Page 42 of Return of the Darkness
“Unfortunately, I think he is beyond help,” Alvan said as Father Zoro paced around his small home, clutching his hair. Slowly,Larelle nodded, pained by the sight of one of Nerida’s people in such a state. “Let’s get back.” Alvan kissed the top of Larelle’s head. Together, they strode through the darkness towards the bookshelves.
It was a half-hour walk at least, and Larelle hoped Zarya was not worrying about her whereabouts. They paused upon finally reaching the bookshelves. Larelle unfurled her fingers from the pendant and furrowed her brow, tracing the engravings of a wolf and two symbols, one of which she recognised from Sadira’s Wiccan book. Larelle turned it over and found the Garridon Sigil with the hawk on it raised.
“Was he from Garridon?” Alvan asked.
“I have no idea. As far as I knew, he has always been a priest in Nerida. Though, perhaps it is possible his mother or father hailed from a Garridon family when our ancestors were still on Ithyion.” Larelle frowned at the three marks on the back.
“Odd that he is a Neridian priest, given his obvious devotion to Garridon,” Alvan said, pulling books from the shelves.
“He knew about a curse,” Larelle said. “Osiris said many on Novisia would begin to remember and reveal more to us. What if Father Zoro hailed from Garridon, but when his family fled from Ithyion, they hid something in his memories, leading him to a different realm instead?”
“It seems plausible, but without knowing the full extent of why memories were hidden, and why Osiris’s lands were cursed, we will not know for certain.” Alvan grunted, placing a tenth book atop the stack in his arms.
“What are you doing?” Larelle asked. Alvan jerked his head to the lantern, and she reached for it.
“I don’t particularly want to stay in here. I will carry the books to the front of the room, so we can read them near Zarya and Lillian. It will only take a couple of trips.” Larelle nodded and reached for four copies of the navy covers titledThassena, balancing them under one arm. They walked back along the dark hallway untilreaching the two cases hiding the darkness. She was keen to return and discuss the priest with Vivian.
“Mumma, is that you?” Zarya’s voice sang from the other side of the door from where she still sat at the table. Placing the books on the stool, Larelle peeked around the door to smile at her daughter.
“What is all this?” Larelle asked in an excited voice, noting her daughter’s grin, and the many large parchments spread across the table.
Zarya clapped her hands. “Maps!”
“Sorry, Larelle,” said Lillian. “She burst in after you both, insisting she knew what to look for. She came back with all these scrolls.”
“Do not apologise,” Larelle murmured, recalling what Osiris had told Zarya. “We should trust her intuition.”
“How many maps did you find, Zarya?” Alvan asked, peering over Zarya’s shoulder.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!” Zarya counted, pointing at each in turn. She had laid them out, using books to hold down the many corners. “This one is Novisia,” Zarya said, pointing to the nearest. “And this one is Novisia too, but without any of the places or names on it. It’s empty, except for this circle in the middle.” Larelle stood beside Alvan, inspecting the map. Zarya was right. But why would anyone create a duplicated yet empty map of Novisia? Vivian closed her book and strode over from her desk, watching the princess. Larelle moved closer to Zarya. The acolyte may be keeping the priest locked away for his own safety, or she may know more about his jumbled thoughts. Larelle’s uncertainty on the acolyte’s intentions made her wary.
“Perhaps it’s a map from when our ancestors first arrived on Novisia, before they divided it into realms and began building,” suggested Alvan.
“These three don’t have names, only marks for places on the land, but these three do,” Zarya continued, pointing at the three maps above Novisia, with a scrawled font etched in the corners ofeach. Lillian read them out for Zarya, who struggled to pronounce them. “Xyliar, Carvyre, and Thassena.” Larelle’s eyes immediately tugged to the map titled Thassena. Though she had not heard of the other two names before, Osiris had mentioned the third, and she had since found it on the map and spines of books.
“They’re all huge,” Alvan murmured. He was right. The lands on all six maps were far bigger than Novisia—in fact, they were triple the size, perhaps more. Larelle circled the table, intent on examining the map of Thassena, but her eyes paused on Vivian, who returned to her desk and scribbled a note in her book, stealing another glance at Zarya.
“Could you help Alvan organise all these books, Zarya?” Larelle asked Alvan. She strode over to the acolyte, who promptly closed her book when noticing Larelle’s approach. “You appear to be fascinated with my daughter,” Larelle said sharply, driven by a fierce protectiveness. The acolyte widened her eyes and stepped back, clasping her hands.
“She will one day be our ruler. It is natural to document her history,” Vivian said, though there was a tremble to her voice.
“What did you write?” Larelle asked, reaching for the book. Vivian snapped it up. “Are you refusing your queen, sister Vivian?” Larelle’s eyes glowed, and the glass of water on the desk shook.
“I—”
“Is that why you have Father Zoro locked away, too? So you may study him and document his history?” Larelle urged. The acolyte's expression changed, and the fear faded to a stony-like appearance.
“Father Zoro is a danger to himself,” she said, her words clipped. Larelle opened her mouth to counter, the gold pendant burning in her clenched fist, but a crash from behind the curtain, below in the pews, stopped her. The guards that had been stationed below barrelled into the archives, blocking the door behind them. Larelle rushed forward with Vivian as Alvan ushered Zarya back in her chair before joining his queen. Taking a deep breath, Larelle pulled back the curtain, a replay of the day’s earlier events.
“Darkness.” Vivian shook. “Darkness has come to claim us.” Under the glass dome, shadowed soldiers stalked between the pews. Larelle relaxed when she realised the shadows fought for Elisara, but something about their movements, slow and prowling, raised the hairs on Larelle’s arms. One lone soldier had pushed over the altar and swiped items off the tables. Elisara had no reason to send her soldiers to Nerida—or anywhere, for that matter—especially not to behave like this.
“They’re not listening to her,” Zarya called. Larelle faced her daughter, who seemed bored of the maps now. She drew on a blank piece of paper instead.
“What do you mean Zarya?” asked Larelle, moving towards the princess. Alvan kept watch of the shadows below.
“Some of them don’t want to listen. She’s sleeping, so she doesn't know the bad people are ignoring her,” Zarya said, adding the finishing touches to her drawing. “Do you like it?” She held up the picture to her mother, who pursed her lips as the reality of Zarya’s intuition settled in. Larelle gazed at a drawing of a place Zarya had never seen: a towering mountain in the middle of a lake, where a dark-winged creature roamed the sky. Although Larelle had never visited herself, it matched Elisara and Kazaar’s descriptions. Larelle knew where the Queen of Vala was taking refuge.The Unsanctioned Isle.Behind her, despite the panic of the darkness, Vivian scribbled in a book again. Larelle intended to have Alvan steal it amongst their other books when they left.
“Vivian, do you have an Avery attached to the church?” Larelle asked, holding Zarya’s drawing. The acolyte jolted, but then nodded in agreement. “I need to send three letters.” The acolyte gathered parchment and a quill for the queen. She would write a letter for the Queen of Keres, King of Garridon, and Vala’s new commander, Vlad, summoning them to the Unsanctioned Isle. Though it pained Larelle to force Elisara to confront reality so soon after her loss, it was time for the rulers of Novisia to get answers and protect their kingdom.
