Page 23 of The Shadow of Polaris

“And did you find them?” she asked.

A trace of amusement floated just beneath the surface of her words. I sighed and shook my head, picking at a hangnail on my thumb nervously. Her eyes sparkled as she snapped her open fingers in front of her. The sconces mounted in each corner of the room erupted into flame, then faded into a dim crackle. Polaris placed her hands behind her back and began down the corridor, her steps so gentle she seemed to float above the floor.

“I would disagree, my dear. I think you’ve found everything you needed tonight.” Smiling, she pulled a book from a shelf, opening it and perusing its contents until deciding it wasn’t what she sought and returned it to its place.

“I have found no clarity here. Just a history lesson on the Great War and the fact that I descended from farmers,” I grumbled, my brow wrinkling with frustration. Polaris reached for another book and flipped to its first page, rubbing her chin as she scanned each line.

Without looking up from the text, she said, “Elpis, dear, how can you expect to find clarity when you aren’t truly looking for it?” she asked, without looking up from the text.

I hesitated, unsure what she meant.

“When you’re ready for the truth, it will appear,” she whispered.

What was it with immortals and riddles?

“But I am ready for the truth! I need to know what I’m up against. I… I’m frightened.” My voice trailed off.

It was the first time I’d truly acknowledged my fear out loud. Speaking those words, it made everything solid. Polaris closed her book gently and looked up at me, her glittering eyes now soft and loving.

“It is you, my dear, that you are frightened of. Just remember that.”

I sighed and slumped onto the oak stool next to me. Holding my head in my hands, I begged the goddess to tell me what she meant. I needed her to explain what was happening and why.

“Goddess, please, I don’t know what that means.” I looked up, wiping the new tears from my eyes.

The sconces, once lit, were cold and dark. I was utterly alone. Had I just imagined that? I rubbed at my eyes, making sure I wasn’t hallucinating. The shadows of these archives must have caused me to see things that weren’t truly there.

I shuddered, wrapping my cloak tightly around myself to warm the deep chill that now dripped down my bones. Scanning the room once more, I noticed a book resting on the desk in the center of the space where the imaginary Polaris had stood. The book hadn’t been there when I entered, and I definitely didn’t place it there.

Something struck within me that maybe what I’d just experienced was real, and I truly did just converse with our namesake goddess. With shaky fingers, I lifted the text from the marble tabletop. A dictionary? What was so special about a Gods damned dictionary? Maybe the Goddess was mocking me. Maybe that’s what immortals did, simply toyed with their mortal people. I slammed the dictionary shut, gripped the leather bound and flung it across the room.

The heavy text hit the opposing wall with a thud, smashing the glass mirror mounted there upon impact. I sucked in a gasp, praying the guards above hadn’t returned yet to hear the sudden disturbance of glass shatter. Save for the blood now roaring in my ears, all was quiet.

Gathering the glass shards, my mouth thinned with growing frustration. I needed to clean this mess to avoid igniting suspicion when the morning guards did their rounds. The last thing I needed was to spark up my search party in the city again. I’d heard they’d scoured the western realm with no success and were making their way down the southern trade routes, hunting for a lead.

When I bent down to pick up the final shard, however, something struck my eye. In the crease where the tile flooring met the wall, a sliver of vibrant magenta peeked from beneath the aging wallpaper. Placing the shards in a pile beside me, I scratched at the wall. The adhesive was aged enough that the wallpaper panel peeled cleanly off.

Hidden beneath was a mural so vibrant, so masterfully painted, it stole every breath in my lungs. Fluorescent greens, blues, and violets washed across the wall. A symbol of our northern goddess and her power.

The borealis bent and curled around a black mountain peak. Something about the landscape felt familiar. The colorful swirls in the painted sky seemed to call to me, inviting me to come closer with its beauty.

As if in a trance, I traced my finger along the mountain range, feeling the raised ridges of the brushstrokes. The landscape extended further beneath the wallpaper. With each panel of wallpaper I tore, the mural grew in size and splendor. A fjord in front of snowy mountain tops. A frozen lake, the reflection of the starry sky bouncing off its surface. A small cottage with smoke meandering out its stone chimney.

What was this place? The area resembled the Northern Realm, with slight variations. Where I expected a dip in the mountainous background, there would be a peak. A crystalline lake where there should have been flatland. I needed to know what this beautiful world was.

Finally, I ripped the final panel of wallpaper from its paste,revealing the last section of the mural. Inscribed within a small box was a sentence or two written in the ancient northern folk’s language. Most of our realm’s written history hadn’t yet been transcribed in the modern tongue. With the hardships of winter and the depression that swallowed our city, transcription was lost to the wayside. And so, my sister and I were required to learn the ancient dialect. Academics and chroniclers maintained primarily, but as royals, it was equally important that we’d read it proficiently.

“When winter and spring coincide, darkness’s heir brings the light of truth and the fall of vanity. Only embers of life can destroy visions of death.” What did that mean? Someone had clearly covered this up. It must be of significance. I had a lot to report to Frya and Rune. Maybe they’d make some sense of this cryptic message. I had come to the archives seeking clarity, but would leave with something far from it.

A shuffle on the level above caused my heart to plummet into my stomach. Shit. How much time had I spent down here? And where the hell was Arcturas? She’d caught on a scent trail and disappeared down some shadowy alcove.

Hastily, I rolled the shreds of wallpaper into a dark corner row, tossing the mirror shards into a pile beside them. The dictionary, I tucked into my cloak. Not that I expected it to unlock the hidden mysteries of the realm, but Polaris had left it for a reason. I needed time to figure out why.

As I hastily made my way up the steps to the upper foyer of the temple, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of dread. Something was coming for me, and if I didn’t figure out what or why… I cast out the thought before it could bubble to the surface. Sitting at the top step was Arcturas, happily wagging her bushy tail, tongue hanging to the side of her mouth.

“Where have you been?” I hissed, reaching the top level, and tiptoeing toward the temple’s entrance. She whined quietly and fell in step behind me. There was no sign of the guards returning for shift. All was quiet. Still, I had already risked too much time here. With each passing second, city guards could be returning to their post. We swiftly exited the temple, leaving the unlit sconces and shadows with their secrets.

The late night air stung in my throat as we made our frosty descent. I barely noticed it though, as thoughts and questions whizzed around my mind. Polaris and her riddles echoed through me until her words were exhaustively carved into my memories. The landscaped mural and its ancient message. Something had been so familiar about that place. Like I’d been there in a daydream, or a distant memory. I needed to think, to reflect on what I’d seen and experienced tonight. I needed to get out of this damned cold.

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