Page 88 of Ruby & Onyx

“She’s getting to it,” says the man who seems eager to argue, regardless of the point.

Guylita continues, “After the failure of Raylor and Lucia, Manka had an idea. Granting immortality to one would never work; he had to find two. Only a pair could survive for an eternity. And so, he searched for a human couple to bestow the gift of immortality. Decades passed before he found Caelis… and you.”

“Caelis? As in King Caelis of Umbra?” My mind is spinning in so many different directions.

“Yes, King Caelis of Umbra. Though, at the time, he was not a king, and you were not Radya. You were Caelis and Perdita,” the man explains matter-of-factly as if his words were self-explanatory.

“What do you mean I was not Radya? I am Radya, not Perdita. Wouldn’t I know if I was somebody else?”

“Well, let’s see. Did you know that you were once someone else?” The man asks sarcastically.

“No,” I huff.

“Okay, then. I think it’s safe to say that you wouldn’t know if you were someone else. Can we continue?”

I grip my hands together and nod, even though he can’t see it in the dark.

Fortunately, Guylita takes my lack of response as a prompt to continue. “Perdita and Caelis lived in a small Umbrian village, tucked away in a remote corner of the forest, far away from the rest of the world, with little interest in anything but each other. The stories say that a stranger came wandering to your doorstep after being turned away time and time again, looking haggard and hungry. Most people mistook him for a beggar and slammed the door in his face. But not you. The two of you took him in, cared for him, and offered to let him stay for as long as he needed. And while you were busy caring for him, the god himself was observing you. He took note of the kindness that you showed to him, and to each other, and decided that you were worthy of the gift.

“They say that you both refused Manka’s gift at first, claiming to be happy enough for a lifetime without an eternity to look forward to. But that only made him more adamant. It was you or nobody. Allegedly, you still refused his offer, which displeased the god of life and death. And so, he bestowed his gift upon you, despite your protests. He trapped you both in immortal bodies, unable to pass on from this life until he deemed it so.

“But unlike your predecessor, you did not seek wealth or abundance. You stayed in your village, never growing older or accruing fame. It stayed that way for decades until Manka decided to nudge you out of your seclusion. He told the village of what he did, and the people started to flock to you. They left gifts at your doorstep and lined up for miles to get a glimpse of the couple who would live to see the end of time.

“When the prior King of Umbra passed without a living heir, the people declared you and Caelis best fit to lead the kingdom. Despite your refusals, they made you their king and queen, placing crowns of onyx on your head to represent your unbreakable love.”

Guylita pauses her explanation there, and questions ring through my ears like a horn at daybreak. “I still don’t understand. If Perdita was immortal, how did she die?”

I refuse to use the first person. She, Perdita, and I are two different people, no matter what she says.

“Will you shut it? I mean,” the man stops to clear his throat. “Respectfully, can you please save your questions until the end? Please and thank you.”

“Have some respect, Amin,” Guylita says. My back stiffens at the mention of his name. I remember it. I remember him. He is without a doubt the same man that I met in Carcera.

“I said respectfully,” Amin refutes.

Guylita scoffs. “Where were we? Ah, yes. You, Perdita and Caelis, became revered throughout the land. The people worshiped you like gods. Each generation born under your rule brought with it an increased appetite for conquest. They felt that you were the true leaders capable of uniting the two kingdoms. The people pushed for war.

“Caelis refused to put his people in jeopardy, but they demanded it until, finally, war became inevitable after the Alium skirmish that killed fifteen Mendacian soldiers. King Benedict saw the murders as an incitement and declared war on Umbra. The fighting went on for over three hundred years. And with each passing of the Mendacian crown on to the next generation, they grew hungrier for victory, desperate to finish their ancestors’ war. Neither side made headway as they sacrificed the lives of countless soldiers. Until twenty-three years ago, that is, when Sir Magis came along. He convinced King Vani to try something new. He studied Davina’s prophecies and believed that he found meaning in the line, neither death nor life can disrupt the pair bonded in Onyx, and only the cerulean cage may separate them. He believed that the cerulean cage could be made with magic.”

I audibly gasp at her words. Could Sir Magis have betrayed me in this life and the previous one while looking me in the eye without a hint of remorse?

She continues undeterred, “He gathered all of the praecian warriors and trained them to complete the spell that would suck the immortality from your bodies. They surrounded both you and Caelis on the battlefield, but Caelis slipped away in the mass of bodies, unknowingly leaving you behind. The warriors surrounded and trapped you within that cerulean cage. The cage got smaller and smaller until it finally engulfed you. Everyone assumed that it worked when they saw your lifeless body lying limp in the dirt. That belief remained intact until a baby girl named Radya appeared in the very same village in which Perdita and Caelis were born, only a month later.”

“How -” I start to ask, but Amin clicks his tongue. “Fine, sorry. Go on.”

“People started to raise eyebrows when they noticed the imprint on your hand. It was identical to a marriage imprint, a mark which doesn’t appear naturally. It can only be created in the binding ceremony of marriage, as is custom in Umbra. You see, as long as both spouses are alive, then the marriage symbol will stay tattooed on their hands, only erasing upon death. But Caelis’ never went away, even after Perdita departed. Many believed it to be a fluke. But as long as the imprint stayed visible, Caelis never lost hope,” she pauses, allowing me a moment to let all of this sink in.

The marriage symbol… that’s why everyone was so fascinated with my birthmark. Liliana had a similar marking on her hand, which makes sense, seeing as she was also married in Umbra. She told me that it was a sign of womanhood, or maturity, or some other nonsense. I start to rub my hand together as if it might help me remember some of this, but the slate has been wiped clean.

“One day, a man stole you from your cradle while your parents were sleeping, returning you before they awoke. He drew every detail of the mark on parchment so that he could report it back to King Caelis for comparison. When your parents discovered what the man had done, they fled. They refused to sacrifice you to the king, not believing the lore behind the mark. And so, they made a deal with King Vani. Safe passage into Mendacia and a life of protection in exchange for your hand in marriage to their son.”

“Why would I be safer with King Vani than with King Caelis?” So much of this doesn’t make sense. How could they trade one evil for another? How could I not remember an entire lifetime?

“After your supposed death, King Caelis lost control of his temper. His grief blanketed the kingdom in darkness. Without sunlight to nourish the crops, the land became barren and the people starved. But what your parents didn’t know is that when the man who kidnapped you returned to Caelis and confirmed the markings, the veil of darkness in Umbra was lifted. The small seedling of hope breathed life back into the land. He began his search for you right away, but you were already gone.” Guylita lets out a heavy sigh as if relieved to have finished telling the story, as if every word was a labor.

“That’s where I come in,” Amin says. “I spent years searching for you, turning over village after village looking for that mark. We nearly gave up until Perry sacrificed his life trying to enter Carcera. I knew that he must have found you. And when I saw you with my own two eyes, I nearly cried,” he laughs.

“I remember. You stared at my hand and gave me the creeps,” I try to laugh, but it comes out flat.

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