At the corner of a deserted crossroad, a gloomy house stood out from the rest of the landscape. Its lack of chimney and light made it appear uninhabited. Still, a carriage pulled up in front of it and one of the narrow windows lit up.
“Aluna!” a voice called out.
Down in the cellar of the darkened house, a young girl lay on the floor. She was thin, with fine features and long strands of tangled hair down her back. The little light that filtered through the cellar did not reveal more than the huddled figure in the corner of the room, her ebony skin nearly invisible in the darkness.
“Aluna!” the voice called again.
The girl frowned when she heard her master’s call. She had been dreaming of a castle. He had interrupted her kissing a handsome man and brought her sharply back to reality. She woke up startled and sat up, alert. She was no longer surrounded by high walls upholstered in red and gold; she was now in a bare, lifeless room. The olive-skinned stranger dressed in black had disappeared too, leaving her with nothing but her own reflection in the glass before her.
Aluna stood, lit a lantern and went to the mirror. She examined herself, from her thin legs to her rebellious dreadlocks. She ran a hand through her tresses and started gathering them in a braid.
Aluna’s hair was important to her. Her mother had always said that keeping it long and neat could help her pass for a noblewoman one day. She had spent years teaching her daughter to care for her hair and make it attractive in spite of its considerable volume, and Aluna had been a very good student.
Once she finished her braid, she turned away from her reflection and put on a garment which had been lying on the ground. Soon as the fabric touched her thigh, she gave a little cry of pain. The wound was far from the only one. Injuries and marks all over her body bore witness to the suffering of her daily life.
“Aluna! What are you doing?” the voice rang out again. “We have company!”
She trembled all over, as if her master was shouting right in her face. She hurried to finish dressing.
“I’ll be there in a moment!”
As she strapped on her sandals, Aluna remembered how she had ended up in Arabica, this small, abandoned town northwest of Goran, one of the four sovereign nations of Iriah. The inhabitants had all fled during the last war with the neighboring state of Crystallia. Since then, a truce had been signed, yet peace was still hanging by a thread. Opposition to the Lord Regent’s regime was growing and people were less and less willing to tolerate the horrors that had been perpetrated since the law prohibiting the birth of twins.
The Lord Regent. . . Even the thought of His name made her shiver. Who could He be? Was He a man? If He was, how could He be so cruel to his fellow human beings? Or, as certain people whispered, was He a god? Aluna had been told that the Lord Regent had come to power sixty years ago, proclaiming His supremacy over the four kingdoms. Although a brief rebellion had followed His declaration, everyone had been powerless against His show of force. No one knew how the Lord Regent had managed to make thousands of men and women kill one another without lifting a finger but one thing was clear: He had done it. Since then, fear had reigned over Iriah. The kings—the only ones permitted to communicate with Him—had instituted two main laws to show their submission: the payment of unprecedented taxes and more importantly, the murder of twins. So much blood had been shed!
The master’s ringing bell brought Aluna away from her thoughts. He was growing impatient. She climbed the ladder out of the cellar in which she lived. Closing the hatch behind her, she faced her master, who was awaiting her.
“I-I am sorry I’m late,” she mumbled, bowing her head.
“It’s about time! Your mother and sisters are waiting for you in the living room.”
Aluna stood up straight in surprise. The man before her was not very imposing; in fact, he was rather small. His spectacles sat on a hooked nose, allowing just a glimpse of hypnotizing blue eyes. His skin was frightfully pale, and his curved spine accentuated his sickly appearance. Aluna did not know the old man’s exact age, but everything about him indicated that he had long since passed half a century.
“Have you lost the use of your legs?” he yelled. “I’ve just told you your mother is here!”
Aluna jumped, apologized and slipped into the back room that served as a kitchen. She knew she should prepare a snack to welcome her family properly. She found a tray and started cooking peccas, small appetizers very popular in the kingdom of Goran. She began with a bread base and added meat and egg. The final touch was meris syrup, made from those unique-tasting red fruits that only grow in the Shadow Valley. Once they were ready, Aluna lifted the tray, took a deep breath and headed for the main room that served as a living room.
As soon as she walked in, a woman called out to her. She was tall, black and dressed in a sky-blue dress decorated with silver sequins. She looked so elegant that Aluna didn’t recognize her at first, even though she had her mother’s typically beautifully dressed hair: those long locks gathered in a chignon at her nape.
Without warning, she took Aluna in her arms. The girl stood still, trying not to drop her tray. Her mother released her after what felt like a minute and examined her.
“You’ve grown so much in six years, sweetheart! You look well, just a bit thin for my taste. . . But never mind that; I was so scared that something would happen to you during that horrible war! I see that you’re just as beautiful as ever!” She smiled, her eyes lingering on her daughter’s braid.
“I. . .”
“Let me carry that. Give it to me.”
She tried to take the tray, but Aluna’s grip was stronger.
“Don’t trouble yourself. It . . . it is my duty.”
Before her mother could react, Aluna passed her and set the treats down on the table, staring at the two girls seated on the chesterfield. One was young, dressed soberly, petite, with lovely honey-colored skin. Her auburn hair was silky, and her eyes were bright. Aluna immediately recognized her little sister, who had been only seven years old when she had left home. The other girl was older, with piercing gray eyes. Her long, rebellious hair, similar to Aluna’s, was fixed in a large braid on the side. This surprised Aluna; she did not remember having ever seen her twin with such a hairstyle. However, she did not linger on that thought: it did not matter. She turned to her mother, in a hurry to move things along.
“Your peccas are served, please enjoy.”
“Wait, wait!” her mother pleaded. “Don’t you want to say something to your little sister? Look how much she’s grown!”
Her younger sister immediately crossed the distance between them and hugged her.
“I missed you, Al.”
Aluna was taken by surprise and needed a few seconds before she could speak.
“You too . . . li-little Bey,” Aluna said, remembering all the times her sister Beth had come to visit her when she was still living in the cellar of their family home. They used to love playing with wood dolls and giving each other nicknames.
“We have so much to catch up on!”
“I-I suppose we do.”
Uncomfortable with all these unaccustomed displays of affection, Aluna suddenly pulled away from her sister and turned to go. Her mother stopped her.
“So you’re never going to forgive me? I am your mother!”
Aluna stared. Her mother had tears in her eyes and looked sincerely regretful for what she had done. She had abandoned her to Xerox six years ago to protect her from the spears of the royal guards. She had been forced to leave the city of Minabis and flee to Arabica, which, besieged by fighting since the beginning of the war, was not subject to royal raids. However Aluna did not blame her mother; she had simply made herself forget. So what was she supposed to tell this woman who had now become a stranger to her?
Before she could answer, her mother took her by the arm and made her sit beside her twin sister.
“Does Xerox treat you well?”
What could Aluna say? Should she confess that her friend regularly subjected her to such painful experiments that her skin was constantly burning? That Xerox was an insane druid without the tiniest shred of human decency, and all that Aluna did was dream of returning to the life she had known before?
“No. . .” Aluna muttered.
“No? Do you mean he treats you badly? You do look pale. . .”
“No—I meant, yes, he treats me well,” Aluna corrected.
“Are you sure? Because if he treats you badly, you know I’ll find you somewhere else to stay. I will, I promise.”
“What would be the point? You already said that I cannot live with you. I’m fine here.” Aluna lied.
“Sweetheart, you know how much I want you to live with us. But I don’t have a choice. If the guards had found the two of you, they would have. . .”
“I know,” Aluna interrupted her, her voice void of emotion. “They would have killed the both of us. You had to make a choice. . . I’m not angry.”
She suddenly stood up, ignored her mother’s questioning look and studied the three women. They were a family, and Aluna realized she was not part of it. Her heart sank. She would never belong in the way they did, there was nothing she could do about it. She looked at each of them, her gaze resting on Beth. Her extremely fine ears and fair skin were so unique. Her sister was a hybrid, half-Ælf, half-human. This type of marriage had only been legalized in Goran half a century ago, long after the massive immigration of Crystallian citizens who had come to the continent seeking riches. Hybrids often had human features, but also possessed the legendary grace and beauty of their Ælf parents.
“Beth’s father is not here?” Aluna asked, suddenly taking note of his absence.
“Papa had to stay at Minabis,” Beth replied. “But he wanted to see you very much; it’s just that he wasn’t able to get away.”
“I don’t know why he would want to see me; he doesn’t even know me,” Aluna retorted. She could barely remember having spent any time with Beth’s father. “And that goes for the rest of you, too. . . I don’t know what you’re doing here. The war has been over for more than a year; I. . . I was sure that you would never come, so I do not understand.”
“We wanted to come earlier, Al! It’s just that we had to wait for the guards to leave and the roads to clear. I promise we didn’t forget you—we thought about you every day, didn’t we, mama?”
“Yes, sweetheart, we had to. . .”
“Why are you here?” Aluna cut her mother off. “I suppose you’re just passing by.”
“Actually, we can’t stay,” her mother stammered, struggling painfully to find the right words. “But I absolutely wanted to see you and. . .”
“Well, I am fine,” interrupted Aluna, surprised at the disappointment she felt.
Against all odds, her other sister—her twin—finally broke her silence.
“Mama says there is a free nation in the northwest, a nation of rebels and outlaws. You should go there. You could live more freely.”
“Elena!” Their mother was angry. “That would be far too dangerous! We do not know what those people are like!”
“I thought she was dreaming of freedom,” her twin said coldly. “Anyway, it’s not as if you were planning to bring her back with us.”
“How can you be so cruel to your sister?” Their mother scolded her. “That could be you in her place!” She turned to Aluna, looking very serious. “Listen, sweetheart: Beth’s father has contacts at the castle. I’ve been thinking we can try to bring you back by submitting a special request to the king. Perhaps he would make an exception. . .”
“What?” Elena shouted, concerned by the sudden turn of events. “I will NOT share my life with this. . .”
“Enough!” Aluna intervened.
She knew the king would never accept such a request. Her mother must be desperate to even suggest something that would put their entire family in danger. How would the Lord Regent react if He found out she had flouted his authority? The risk was too great.
“Mother,” she said calmly. “You don’t have to worry about me like this. As much as I appreciate your efforts, I have lived on the margins of society for too long now to ever be part of it again.”
To bring the conversation to a close, Aluna awkwardly hugged her mother, who took a few seconds before returning her embrace. After a minute that felt like an eternity, Aluna released her and said, with a smile that she hoped looked genuine. “Come back whenever you like.”
After sharing some old memories and exchanging effusive embraces, the Sachs family carriage finally pulled away from the house.
Aluna found herself alone. She was convinced that her unhappiness would soon come to an end: her mother really did intend to get her out of there, and even if she did not want to nurse any illusions, she hoped with her whole heart. After all, saving her did not necessarily mean legitimizing her existence. She could be perfectly content with the old cellar that had been her favorite hideout during her childhood. . .
Suddenly, the clock struck seven, reminding Aluna it was time to go down to the cellar. She bravely walked to the place where she had been sleeping a few hours earlier. She stopped to look at the moonlight through the basement window then continued on towards the back wall. There, she reached up and pushed the highest stone. She heard a grating sound, and a passage appeared in the middle of the stones. She crept in, taking care to close up behind her, just as she had done nearly every night for the past six years.
Her master stood before her in a room furnished with only a bed and a table displaying various masex, which were stones withholding magical powers. The druid was studying their effects on the human body—or at least that was what Aluna thought he was doing. Xerox was not the talkative type.
“Get yourself ready,” he ordered.
Aluna was accustomed to this ritual, so she prepared herself immediately. Her master came over and gave her an injection in the arm that made her jump. The dose seemed stronger than usual.
“Relax,” Xerox said. “I have slightly elevated the dosage, but you can handle it.”
“It burns. . .” she grumbled, feeling the heat of the solution rising up her arm.
“It’s normal. Just relax.”
Aluna tried to calm down. A burning fire penetrated her skin and flooded rapidly through her body. She trembled of pain with tears building up in her eyes when she felt herself being projected into another reality: there, she was trapped in a maze of fire, the flames approaching slowly, ready to consume her. It was frightening, but routine.
Aluna knew exactly how to emerge from this maze unscathed and pass the day’s test. She followed the path between the alleys of flame, instinctive as an animal, rapid and efficient. However, just when she thought she was in control of the situation, an enormous pair of flaming eyes loomed up above the barrier of fire to stare down at her. She was scared, but she continued her frantic race, ignoring their insistent gaze. It was not much further now to the exit. She was just a few turns away when a hoarse voice shouted: “You dare try to defy me? You will burn for this!”
It startled and frightened her. She could not stop now; she had to get out as quickly as she could. She rushed to the nearest exit, but it was too late. The flames were already closing in around it, blocking off her way out. The hoarse voice laughed at her. Trapped, she recoiled. The cruel chuckle sang out again and a wall of fire came down on her as she let out an ear-piercing shriek.
Xerox startled at the girl’s cry and stifled a curse when he saw her body writhing in pain. He tried to bring her under control, but nothing worked: she was still thrashing and screaming on the mattress. Her hand seemed to be burning from the inside, and he attempted every method he knew to stop the pain from spreading to the rest of her body. She had several convulsions before everything came to an end with one last cry that rent the silence before she lost consciousness.
∾
At that exact moment, leagues away, Rosa Sachs was seized with a sudden pain. She ordered the coach to stop immediately. She climbed down from the carriage to get some fresh air, her hand on her chest and her eyes turned to the ruins of Arabica. She looked out at the landscape, lost in thought. Despite her daughter’s indifferent reaction, she sensed that something was not right. Beth noticed her anxiety and came outside to join her.
“Mama, what’s going on?”
“I . . . something is happening there. I can sense it. What if she needs me? I’m so worried!”
“Mama. . .”
“I know it sounds silly,” she said, finally tearing her eyes away from Arabica. “But I really have this feeling that. . .”
Beth was not listening anymore. A piece of paper had fallen from her mother’s coat pocket and caught her attention. She picked it up and handed it back to her. Rosa grabbed the paper and scanned it rapidly.
“By the seal of Maldas!”
“What is it?”
“It’s Aluna, she. . .”
Rosa suddenly realized her daughter must have slipped the note into her pocket when she embraced her. Without wasting a second, she called to the driver:
“We’re going back to Arabica. My daughter is in danger!”
“Mama?” Beth was confused. “What’s going on?”
In reply, Rosa showed her the paper, on which were written just two words:
Help me.