As soon as dawn broke the horizon and brightened the obscure world sitting idly a few light years away, an emergency siren has been sounded and the occupants were rudely awakened to it. The peace that they had enjoyed for more than four hundred years has been threatened once again.
A royal messenger came bustling over to my chambers as I was getting dressed. He stepped into the room and bowed - sang his praises and apologies before announcing that there was an emergency gathering of a White Council meeting in ten minutes. It includes the Chief, myself, and my brother, along with the Generals. Enquiring as to what has caused the emergency, he made no mention of it.
It was simple fact. The state of the emergency was not for his ears.
He left as quickly as he came. My Court Ladies hurried on as they dressed me. They had chosen a long flowing white dress made of the finest silks and on my head lay the gold wreath with my hair pleated beautifully. Getting a firm nod from Althea, I left my chambers and headed to the palace grounds where the Council Hall was.
I do not bring my Court Ladies with me during such emergencies.
Halfway through, I was joined by Damon who had adorned his usual flowing attire and his silver wreath on his head. He looked like had not slept a wink and I had an inkling that this problem may not be solved easily. We barely spoke as we walked the remainder of the way to the Council Hall.
White Council Meetings are very rare, and it can only be arranged by the Chief. It was not for any small matters either. Everyone was highly strung the moment we stepped inside the Council Hall. The generals were already seated and waiting for our arrival, and in ten minutes, all attendance was accounted for.
General South was the one who had rung the siren and in his hands, he held a package wrapped in brown cloth. He had not switched out of his attire - his face was caked with dirt and blood. I watched curiously as he set the package on the table in the middle and revealed it – causing a collective intake of breath from all of the occupants.
I felt the air get colder by the second.
On the marble table, lay a blade with a black hilt with a crossguard wrapping. The blade's length was short - it was not meant for defence as it is used to stab the other and poison the victim. The pommel's design was intricate - a crown with three prongs at the edge. It matches with the crossguard below. There was no mistaking it. We all knew who it belonged to.
Curses.
I couldn't stop staring at the infernal blade that sits coolly on the table. My head is starting to hurt and the skin on my back tingles ominously. I tried to remain calm and stoic; lest I catch the attention of Father but upon seeing that infernal blade, I could not control the swell of panic in my chest.
Steady breaths.
"Is that what I think it is?" Damon was the one who broke the silence. "Where did you find that?"
"We heard tales that a sickness lies in the Green Forest by the South," he explained, his face was pale. "I had sent a team to check and they traced the source all the way to the ruins of Bukit Sihir."
I closed my eyes. I tried not to let it overwhelm me.
The name hurts. Hearing it again hurts a lot. It scares me. Rooted me to the spot. Centuries' worth of pain and torture appeared in my mind. I took a deep shuddering breath to control my overflowing fear. Damon glanced at me, frowning at my peculiar reaction to the name but patted my hand nonetheless.
Bukit Sihir used to be the secret stronghold and base of operations of the infamous and wretched Necromancer. It existed centuries ago. The First Age War occurred because of it and we almost destroyed the mortal realm trying to extinguish the growing evil that stained the worlds.
I felt a hand squeezing my own, and I tried to quieten the fear in my heart.
"That sword has been buried with its Master," I said, interrupting the discussions held between the generals. "In the Aurora Peaks of Lhiran, in the North. How can it be found in the South? It's impossible. There are powerful spells that lie upon those tombs, which should have prevented the crypts from ever being opened by any mere soul."
The owner of the cursed blade was the Witch, the Necromancer's Master. That evil being was buried six feet deep in a tomb that cannot be accessed to nor found by any mere wanderer. The Chief had made sure of such. There will be no repeat of the First Age War ever again, we had lost too much.
"It cannot mean that Your Highness," one of the generals spoke with hesitation in his voice. Even he was doubting himself. "It cannot be true, Crown Princcess."
"There is not enough proof that the cursed blade actually originated from the Witch's grave," the Chief of Heaven piped up suddenly.
It came as a no surprise for me as I was expecting him to say it. Even if I was, I did not expect the fury that rose in me. The Chief was there when it happened. The only reason he was denying all these was apparent. I exchanged tense looks with my brother, who held the same thoughts as I did.
"But, my King, isn't this enough proof?"
It is impossible for that infernal sword to appear in the South.
"Silence," he replied flatly. "This meeting is over. The Necromancer and the Witch are dead. They cannot be brought back to life. We made sure of it. I made sure of it. Now get back to work."
This is not good.
I feel queasy.
…
"Why is Father adamant about keeping this hidden?" Damon asked as he sipped tea. "Mmm. This is delicious tea. I should have this in my tea stock."
We were back in my tea room and discarded our attires for comfortable clothes as we wanted to discuss more about what had happened earlier. We wanted to do it away from prying ears. We felt that the White Council meeting was cut short too abruptly, and we were worried about what was about to happen.
"I'd like to point out that he's on the verge of marriage and anticipating the birth of an heir," I mentioned. "He isn't particularly inclined to delve into the affairs of the mortal realm, especially not where Mother rests."
"He can't do that," he replied. "He's Chief. He's the Creator."
"Brother, you are being delusional."
"I am not!"
"You certainly give that impression," I remarked. "The Chief has more pressing concerns than concerning himself with the mortal realm. It's imperative to swiftly fill the Queen's throne before further discussion among the immortals arises. The longer the Gods and Angels are left unsettled, the more challenging it becomes to pacify them. Maintaining their support is crucial in case of unforeseen events."
"But the mortal realm is still under his control."
"Did you not hear a single word that I said to you?" I demanded.
"I know what you said, and I understood what you mean but he cannot ignore the mortal realm as the creator of the three realms," he said, almost stubbornly. "He is bound by what he decreed. He is bound by his own laws."
"He isn't turning a blind eye to the plight of the mortal realm. The dire situation there is understood by all," I conveyed. "Yet, the vacant Queen's throne presents a far graver and precarious situation than what may appear as a mere snare orchestrated by malevolence. Do you comprehend? He urgently requires this matter resolved before any further complications arise."
Damon looked at me. "So the issue of the Queen Consort outweighs everything else at the moment?" he asked.
"You spend most of your waking days by the border, you are spared from the gossip and threats that are surfacing from God's realm," I said. "There are a lot of whispers floating about them getting restless. They've waited too long and their patience is wearing thin. Some even want a God to be the Queen's consort."
"That's ridiculous!"
"They feel it's necessary to keep the peace," I said with a shrug. "Either that or the Crown Prince comes from God's realm."
"Is that why the selection of the Crown Princes is all from God's realm?"
"Obviously."
"That's rough," he added. "Gods are fickle-minded."
"Like as if Angels are better."
He chuckled.
"Anyways, it made little sense why the sword was taken out of the tomb, and found in the Forest at the South," I said, changing the subject back to the main one we had before we started deviating. "There's something brewing at Bukit Sihir. We should get General South and his team to be extra vigilant."
"We can't order them to infiltrate Bukit Sihir when Father's like that."
"Aidan, if you're listening get your butt in here," I said loudly. "I know you're here."
Damon didn't believe that the monkey was eavesdropping. This man was too pure to be a prince. A few seconds later, the monkey slid open the door and entered the room, looking a little guilty for being caught red-handed. Shaking my head at the curious monkey, I patted the free space next to me.
He sat down.
"How much have you listened?" I asked.
He looked guilty but it washed away quickly. "Almost everything," he said. "I was curious. I overheard some people talking about it."
"Do you know what we found?"
"…. No."
I glanced at Damon. He looked hesitant. "We found the sword belonging to the Necromancer at the place where the Witch, Seram was buried," I explained. "The sword was taken out from the North at Bukit Sihir and found at the South - at Aurora Peaks of Lhiran."
The blood drained from his face. "That can't be right."
I watched the monkey closely. It seemed that he knew what we were talking about. "How do you know this?" I asked curiously as I peeked to see his facial expression. "You shouldn't be born yet."
Did he learn it from the history lessons from mortal school? I thought the information of the burial of both the Necromancer and the Witch had been buried. Ironically. No living human ought to know where the sword was buried. That information was not disclosed here either. Only a handful knows.
"Mount Lhisan has been destroyed," he said, ignoring my question. "It's impossible. Bukit Sihir doesn't exist anymore. I – "
"What do you mean the mountain is destroyed? And Bukit Sihir doesn't exist anymore?!" Damon asked in surprise. His eyes were wide as plates as he looked at me quizzically. "We cannot obliterate anything in the mortal realm! It's against the law!"
I rolled my eyes. "I was there to witness his wrath."
"But that's impossible!"
"Shut up, Damon, you're so annoying," I said and turned towards the other man. "Answer my question, monkey."
Aidan looked uncomfortable. "If the sword has been taken out of the grave, it means that history is about to repeat," he said with a shudder. "A second War is about to happen. We need to stop this –"
"Woah, stop what you're saying before you get sent to the dungeons," I interrupted quickly. "He doesn't want to hear about this."
"Wait, are you not going to do anything?" he asked in shock. "Are you gonna watch the war unfold here, on your peaceful and mighty throne when you have the power to stop it from happening?"
I sighed while Damon looked uneasy. "Didn't I tell you before that we're bound to stay in Heaven?" I asked. "Even if we go down and help the mortal realm, it won't mean a thing if we don't have our powers."
He was upset, rightfully so. I was worried. I knew his realm was in trouble but I was powerless to go against the Chief. I watched as he attempted to take off the crown but it was jammed to his cranium and with nothing else to vent his anger out, he flipped the table, sending everything flying to the ground. He uttered a long string of curses before he stormed out of the room.
"He has a bad temper."
"Shut up, Damon."
…