CHAPTER TWO

W hen we stepped into my bedchamber, I gently closed the door and locked it as quietly as I could. I didn’t want the guards who were posted outside the doors all hours of the day and night to hear the sharp ‘click’ of the latch. I wasn’t allowed to lock the door, for my safety. My father also wanted the lock to remain available on the door, for my safety as well.

I waited in silence for a few moments with my ear pressed against the door, listening for any sign that the guards heard the lock. It appeared we were in the clear, for now. I turned to see where Rose had gone to retrieve the book. Luckily, she was able to come in, hide the book, and leave without any suspicion. I wondered if she gave the guards an excuse for why she was there, or if they didn’t care to ask since she, along with a few other handmaids, myself, and my father were the only few allowed into my room unaccompanied.

She was kneeling on the floor near my wardrobes, reaching her arms under one of them. “Aha!” she exclaimed as she pulled the book, now covered in cobwebs, from underneath the large wooden cabinet. Her face turned sour as she daintily picked off some of the spider’s webbing from the book. “Remind me to clean under there,” she said as she pulled herself to her feet.

I eagerly rushed over, and Rose warily handed me the book, a frown on her face.

“What is it?” I asked.

She paused for a moment before replying. “I understand you’re excited, Aura, but aren’t you just a little…scared? Who has the same dream over and over and over so many times? And such a vivid one, at that? Someone definitely hexed you or something. Either that, or the gods are trying to send you a message.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I had almost forgotten her fear of witches, which she swore were real. I often wondered what stories she heard as a child that convinced her to believe in such things.

“It’s not like the book can hurt us,” I said with a grin. “Let’s just see what else is in here.” I took a deep breath, ready to open the one thing that might help me understand my dream. Rose turned her gaze to the book, worry etched on her brows.

When I opened to the first page, I was hit with a bit of disappointment. I had forgotten that the book was written in a scripture I had never seen before. “Great,” I scoffed aloud. “How am I supposed to decipher this if I don’t even know what language it is?”

Rose, who had been standing in front of me, moved to my side to peek at the book over my shoulder so she could see the writing properly. “You’re right, I’ve never seen such scripture before,” she said. “Does it have any illustrations?”

Oh yeah. This book contained the drawing of the wolf I saw before. I started turning through each page, looking for pictures or for anything that stood out. I reached the same page that I briefly viewed in the library.

Rose’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”

“The wolf,” I finished for her with a grin. “That’s why I asked you to take the book. I truly think it’s connected to my dream.” I stared into the eyes of the drawing and felt my heart flutter. Visions of my vivid dream flooded my mind. In the moment, I felt both fear and fascination.

The next page had more pictures of wolves. Some were standing next to humans, the wolves towering over them. Each was the size of a horse, just like the one in my dream. I slowly turned each page with Rose watching patiently over my shoulder.

“Whoa,” she interrupted as we reached a page that was one big drawing of what looked like a city of people. “Are their eyes…glowing?” she asked. I squinted and focused on the eyes of one of the people in the etching – a woman who was walking in the street with her hands full with two baskets of food. It almost looked like her eyes were blazing with embers.

“The text seems so old, maybe it’s just faded marks,” I answered.

“But it’s all of them,” she countered. “All of the people. It’s as if the drawing depicts their eyes on fire.” I looked at another person in the sketch. This one was a man kneeling with his arms spread out, a small child appearing to run to embrace him. Both of their faces matched the woman’s, with blurry looking flames emitting from where their eyes should be. So peculiar. “Let’s keep going,” Rose encouraged.

I turned page after page, stopping only when I reached a drawing. Some of them seemed fairly normal, with most of them showing groups of men and women in the woods, doing various tasks such as gathering herbs and plants.

A few moments went by when I reached a sketch that stuck out to me. Rose sucked in a breath when she saw it. Men and women formed a circle, connected by their hands. The artist drew what looked like heavy wind blowing around them, the hair of each participant in disarray. In the center of the circle was a man. His expression, albeit the sketch was old and slightly worn, appeared to be that of agony. His eyes were glowing, like the ones we had seen earlier, but the glow was more apparent. His hands and legs glowed with the same flame-like appearance as well.

“Some sort of ritual,” Rose thought aloud.

As much as I wanted to roll my eyes, I couldn’t help but think she wasn’t far off.

I let out a deep breath and walked over towards my bed. I set the book down on the side table, still open on the ritualistic drawing, and sat down on the edge of the bed feeling defeated. “I don’t know what any of this means,” I admitted. “If anything, I only have more questions.”

Those very questions were thrashing around in my mind like someone shot an arrow that began bouncing off every surface. What even was this book? What strange language was it in? How did it end up in Rimor Library? What did the strange drawings mean, and how did the giant wolves play into the glowing eyed people and the others? I wondered if the drawing was only a coincidence, or if it was truly tied to my dream. Nothing made sense.

“May I?” Rose asked kindly, gesturing towards the book that lay open on my nightstand. I nodded, hands still rubbing my temples. Rose continued to flick through the pages while I occasionally glanced up in curiosity. Eventually she began pacing the room and I couldn’t see the pages clearly anymore.

I waited, questions still consuming my thoughts. “Wait…” I heard her begin to say. “This can’t be right. Aura, come look at this,” she beckoned. I got up from my bed and walked over to where Rose stood with the book. She had the page open to what looked like a map. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she repeated. She handed me the book so I could get a clear view.

The map took up the entirety of two pages. I quickly realized it was the map of the Four Kingdoms – Rimor, Chatus, Monuvia, and Sprath. Unlike the rest of the book, the map wasn’t labeled in the strange scripture.

I’d seen that map a hundred times. As Princess of Rimor, I was well versed in each of the kingdoms. “It’s an ordinary map,” I said to Rose frankly.

“Look here,” she said, pointing to a northeastern point on the map. I followed her finger and froze when I saw it. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before.

“A fifth kingdom?” I whispered, eyes wide. Zolmara , it read, clear as day. I cursed myself again for not noticing the mystery kingdom on the map immediately. Some princess I was.

I knew the Four Kingdoms like my life depended on it. There was Rimor, of course. My kingdom. Often times referred to as the “Stone City.” Then there was Chatus, the “Golden City,” Monuvia, the “City of Steams,” and lastly Sprath, the “City of Knowing.”

I stared at this mystery kingdom on the map. Zolmara . Then I noticed its location. That must be why I hadn’t seen it immediately. It was on a spot on that map that I typically never paid attention to, since no kingdom resided there. At least, there wasn’t supposed to be a kingdom there.

“Look where it is,” whispered Rose as if reading my mind. “The Forest of Torment.”

Where the Forest of Torment sat on every map of the Four Kingdoms I had ever viewed, this map showed Zolmara. The Forest of Torment was a large, heavily wooded area shrouded in fear and mystery. Multiple rumors surrounded the Forest – from it being where bandits, raiders, and exiles lived freely, to terrible creatures inhabiting the never-ending woods, ready to swallow you whole if you dared set foot in its vicinity. Some have said the Forest will drive a person mad, and that if you made it through unscathed, you’d find riches beyond your wildest dream on the other side.

In addition to all of that, even though it sat on a map, the Forest was nearly impossible to find. It was rumored that getting there was like walking through a labyrinth. Those who believed they’d find treasure and dared attempt to make their way to the Forest but never found it blamed it on trees that moved, mountains that appeared in your path out of nowhere, and even spirits that whispered to you and led you astray. But the only rumor that had any truth to it was that anyone who was bold enough to enter the Forest of Torment never returned. The rest were surely fabrications.

I paced the room, staring at the map and Zolmara. At some point, Rose had made her way to sit on my bed without me noticing, patiently waiting for me to speak. I didn’t really know what to say. This added another huge item to my endless list of questions. I looked at Rose, who was staring towards the one window I had in my room. “Maybe you can ask your father,” she said, breaking the sound of my pacing steps.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Knowing him, he’ll burn the book and play it off like it never existed.” Rose nodded, agreeing with me. Her idea struck me with my own epiphany, however. “But,” I continued, “I think I might know someone I can ask.” I smiled maliciously, and Rose caught on quickly.

“Is it almost the third new moon already?” she asked. Rose was the only person in the entire kingdom who knew I snuck out every third new moon to meet my uncle. It was the only time I ever snuck out at night.

Nearly one year after Balor’s exile, I got a mysterious letter, handed to me by a stranger on the streets of Rimor during one of my escorted outings. The man ran up from behind, pushed past my guards, and shook my hand vigorously, thanking the gods he got to shake hands with the Princess. Horus quickly grabbed him and beat him to a pulp, the poor man. No one knew that the stranger had slipped a folded piece of paper into my grasp, which I kept hidden in my robes until I was alone.

It was a note from Uncle Balor, saying when and where to meet him – an abandoned, rundown theater on the outskirts of the city. My only task was to figure out how to sneak out of the castle at night. It took weeks of planning, but I did it. And when I met up with Balor, I had never felt more nervous, and yet never felt so alive. He was risking his life to meet with me, and I was risking my freedom to meet with him. We decided to let him continue training me, but only a few times a year. Every third new moon, we would meet at the same time and spot and train until I had to leave to make it back to the castle before the sun came up.

This was the only time I snuck out of the castle. During the day, on the rare occasion my father would agree to let me go into the city with an escort, I could evade my guards to have a little mischievous fun. For all my father knew, that’s all it ever was – harmless fun. But if he knew I snuck out at night alone to train with his exiled brother, he’d increase security and never let me leave the castle again. Not until his dying breath. I would be locked away, never to see my uncle again. And so, as often as I wanted to sneak out at night, I just couldn’t risk it.

“Yes,” I answered Rose with enthusiasm. “And what better person to ask about Zolmara than the King’s brother,” I whispered to avoid the prying ears of the guards outside.

I told Rose how I planned to take the book to my uncle and see what he may know about Zolmara, or about the giant wolves and glowing-eyed people. I would ask him every question I had on my mind, with the book in tow. Maybe he could even tell me what language it was in. In just three nights, I would meet him at the abandoned theater and do my interrogation.

Rose left shortly thereafter, remembering to quietly unlatch the large lock on the door. The guards said nothing as she left and returned to her castle duties. She did, in fact, come back a little later with enough rags to clear the cobwebs under my wardrobes. Bless her.

That night, I had the dream again. The wolf chased me through the woods. I ran to the cliff. The creature stalked closer and closer until my eyes shut and my hands reached out to feel human skin. I opened my eyes and shot up in my bed, drenched in sweat per usual. Something felt different this time, though. I glanced around the room, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

And that’s when I saw it. The dark shadowy figure of a person staring at me from my windowsill, the breeze blowing in from the open window causing the candles to flicker. In a state of shock, I couldn’t move or scream. Mere moments passed as I stared directly at the dark silhouette of the cloaked man.

I could tell it was a man now, the longer I let my eyes adjust. He had broad shoulders and a large build. He faced me, his body as still as a statue. The hood of his cloak hid his face, but I could feel him staring at me. My hairs stood on end and alarms in my head screamed at me to defend myself. Finally pushing past the fear that caused me to freeze, I shot up then darted down to grab the knife I kept hidden under my bed. It took only seconds, but when I looked up again with the dagger now clenched in my hand, the figure was gone.