1216-12-31
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As I turned the pages of Of Lions and Serpents by Adrian Kundra, I thought about the king's reputation. Many called him the worst king of Pallas, but I felt differently. Known as the One-Armed King, his story was far more complex than his critics cared to admit.
My uncle had recently brought me the sequel—though technically, I wasn't supposed to know about it yet. The first book supposedly details the aftermath of the war between Wara and Ahk. It even describes battles from years past, where dragons were unleashed, violating the Varvensi Agreement.
The book delves into Adrian's faith in the Lion and how he allegedly used its power to defeat a dragon. If true, it would mark the first recorded instance of a human killing a dragon—a story many consider fiction, with Wara remaining as silent as ever.
If proven true, this story could spark a world war, as the use of dragons in battle defies everything humanity stands for. Countries like Shatar, with their formidable sand dragons, or Tobe, with their Vantors, would pose a serious threat. The Varvensi Agreement, enacted on January 12, 1200, had outlawed dragons in warfare, along with other restrictions meant to maintain peace.
As I flipped through the pages, a line caught my attention:
"Oh, Lion, grant me your strength."
And then, the scene described was breathtaking—a white energy encasing Adrian like armor. A brilliant sword descended, and the dragons recoiled as if in pain. Later, Adrian would name this power the "Lion's Armor." He considered calling it "Kundra" to honor his legacy but ultimately decided against it.
"We have been given the authority to trample upon the serpents."
"Hello," a familiar voice greeted me as I looked up. It was the attendant I'd come to know so well. She smiled gently. "The store's closing soon," she said softly.
This bookstore was a haven, with shelves lined with hundreds of books, each with its own purpose and story. The candles above flickered, casting a warm, steady glow over the rows of shelves. There was a comfortable hum in the silence that filled the place, a quiet I'd grown accustomed to. It felt like a small tragedy that it was closing. I'd grown so fond of it.
I stretched, feeling my legs ache from sitting too long. Rubbing my eyes, I made my way over to the marble counter at the heart of the bookstore, with the attendant following close behind.
She had chestnut-brown hair and silver eyes that shimmered slightly in the candlelight, a strange brightness that always seemed to glow. I held up the book I'd chosen.
"How much, Var, for this one?" I asked her.
She gave me a kind smile. "I know you can't afford it, Mary. Take it. Consider it a gift," she replied.
I hugged her, sensing her own sadness as she prepared to close down the shop. As I left, I saw a small sign outside: "By order of King Milton, this Ramona's Books is closed."
My dark blonde hair flowed in the wind as I stepped onto the cobblestone path outside. I took a deep breath. Turning back, I watched as guards entered the bookstore. The attendant stood by, restrained as they seized books Milton had deemed "unfit."
"Good thing I got out when I did," I thought, gripping the book close. "They might try to take it, too."
I continued down the empty street as the sun sank toward the west, casting a warm, red-orange glow over the buildings. Not many people were out at this hour. In Perez, only adults filled the taverns and shops, spending their evenings in laughter, drinks, and conversation, all thanks to Milton's strict decrees on who could roam at night.
Feeling wary, I pulled my hood over my face, blending into the quiet streets as my skirt swayed with the wind. Step by step, I finally reached home without any guards noticing me.
My house was modest but cozy, with a small fireplace nestled in the corner, giving the space a warm glow. I even had a room of my own, a precious bit of privacy. As I opened the door, my little brother ran up to greet me.
"Theo—how are you?" he whispered, excitement clear in his eyes.
"Shhh, Theo," I replied softly, sneaking through the entryway. "I don't want Mom to know I left."
He nodded, his voice a quiet murmur. "Okay," he said, stepping back as I tried to slip past him and up the stairs.
Inside, the house was filled with familiar sounds and scents. Mom was in the kitchen, her short dark blonde hair tucked behind her ears, stirring a pot of stew. Her violet eyes caught a glimpse of Theo lingering in the hallway.
"Theo, what are you doing?" she called, turning from the stove.
"Nothing, Mom!" he replied quickly, his eyes wide as he glanced over at me with a grin.
My father nor my sister were home yet, likely finishing their work. I slipped up the stairs to my room on the second floor, the only room I'd ever called mine, a safe space I felt nervous about leaving.
My room is simple but comfortable. I have a cozy bed in the corner, piled with soft blankets that I loved to jump onto. A small wooden desk sat against the wall, with a new, unlit candle on it that made me pause. I didn't put a new candle here—did Mom do it? Does she know I went out? My notebook and pen lay nearby, waiting for the next entry of thoughts I'd scribble down before bed. In the corner, a small, neatly wrapped box with my name on it caught my eye. "For Mary Elephon. Open at Venedoma. From Alex Elephon." A gift from my uncle that he'd insisted I wait to open.
The room was mostly empty, except for the three bags I'd packed earlier, the notebook, and that mysterious present.
I changed into more comfortable clothes, then went back downstairs where the warm candlelight danced across the walls, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow. Mom was still cooking, stirring with steady hands as I approached.
"Hey, Mom," I greeted her, trying to mask my nervousness.
Without turning, she said in a steady voice, "Maria Elephon… what did I say about leaving too late?"
I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, Mom. I panicked, but I had to get the book before they closed."
She shook her head, sighing. "You're still reading that work of fiction?"
"Yes," I replied, smiling slightly. "I love the part where Adrian meets Lilian and the first fight of the war. It's a shame what happened."
Mom nodded, still stirring. "As long as you know it's fictional. Just don't go gloating about it at Venadoma."
"I won't," I promised. "I'll keep it secret."
"Did you finish packing at least?" she asked, finally glancing at me with a raised eyebrow, though her attention soon returned to the pot.
"Yes, I finished before I left."
Ever since King Milton outlawed books like this, it'd been harder to find them. Luckily, the store's attendant had tipped me off about this copy, and my uncle had managed to get me the second part, The Lion, the Serpent, and the Spirit Within. Well it's in the present that I definitely haven't opened
Before my mom could say anything else, we heard the sound of hinges creaking. I ran to the door and saw my father standing there, holding bags of food. Beside him was my sister.
My father had dark black hair and deep black eyes, his face set in a steady, weathered expression. He wore his silver armor, which gleamed faintly in the dim evening light. My sister stood beside him, her long hair a striking yellow-blonde—she'd once had black hair, just like father, but after becoming a Holy Knight, it had changed, taking on the hue of the lightning she could now wield. She wore armor too, her breastplate and greaves a bold combination of blue and yellow. A long cape flowed behind her, the fabric catching in the slight breeze as they stepped inside.
Despite being a year younger than me, my sister was accepted into Venadoma at 14 and became a Holy Knight by 16—the fastest recorded pact in history.
"Is Alex going to make it?" I asked, looking from my father to my sister.
They exchanged a heavy glance before my sister replied gently, "Our uncle was killed in Tobe, fighting for a better cause."
I felt tears rise to my eyes, but I blinked them back, trying to stay strong. My father looked troubled, his expression darkening, and he quietly went to his room to change, my mother following close behind, giving me a quick glance before leaving.
My sister passed by as well, her cape billowing slightly as she disappeared down the hallway. Left alone in the kitchen, I turned back to finish preparing dinner.
Mom had been cooking a rich stew. The smell of carrots, onions, and seasoned meat filled the air. I stirred the stew slowly, watching the broth thicken.
The family gathered around the table, the savory stew steaming in each bowl. My father glanced around, his expression softening as he looked at each of us.
"I'm sorry for working so many hours lately," he began, his voice weary but hopeful. "But if I keep at it, I might be a general soon. Then we can afford a better house."
"Really?" I asked, a smile tugging at my lips. "That would be wonderful, Dad."
He nodded, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. Across from me, my sister was already eating the stew. I turned to her, eager to hear about her recent journeys.
"How was Venedoma, Lucia?" I asked.
She set her spoon down, swallowing her food before answering. "It was good, actually. Just remember, don't say anything… treasonous,"
She added, "Keep that book to yourself, and you'll do fine."
"Listen to your sister, Maria!" My father chuckled.
"If you do happen to say something foolish," Lucia continued, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth, "I can always bail you out. Just don't do anything too reckless."
I nodded, taking her advice seriously. I was about to respond when I accidentally tipped my spoon, spilling stew onto the table.
"Maria.. remember your manners at Venadoma," she said gently.
I tried to shrug it off, giving her a playful look. "I'm 18 today."
She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You're still my daughter."
WHOOSH
A gust of wind swept through the room. Snuffing out the candles. Lucia raised her hand, and with a flick of her fingers, a small spark of electricity reignited them.
"When does the carriage to Venadoma Academy come?" Theo asked.
"Today," I replied with a smile.
"Today?" Lucia gasped, the realization hitting her all at once. "Time really flies."
Knock.Knock.
We finished our meal, and I couldn't help but glance around the table. After clearing the dishes, we heard a knock on the door. I grabbed my bags, and as I stepped outside, I was met by two knights dressed in the same blue and yellow armor as Lucia. They opened the door of the waiting carriage, the light of dawn casting a golden glow over it.
My family stood together by the door, waving, and I felt a small smile.
I was leaving, yet on the path to becoming a Holy Knight.