The Dark Before The Light

"I think that's enough interrogation for today," Edwin's mother announced with a composed smile, rising from her seat. "You should all rest and settle in comfortably. I'll retire for the night."

With that, she glided out of the dining hall, leaving behind a soft echo of footsteps and a lingering formality in the air. Silence settled like dust.

"The food was delicious," Bella offered, breaking the awkward quiet.

"I agree wholeheartedly," Acacia added, patting her stomach. "I'd leave home every month if it meant eating that again."

Behemoth, having stirred from his usual perch, slithered down and dipped his tongue into the remnants of her bowl, licking with clear approval. Acacia smiled softly, scratching his chin and watching him melt into the touch.

"Your family's...nice," Bella continued, shooting Edwin a curious glance. "I don't really get why you're so tense around them."

Edwin exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "Only my mother is tolerable. The rest? Headaches dressed in court robes. I'm honestly shocked they didn't cause a scene, especially my cousin."

"Lani seemed fine to me," Acacia said casually, leaning back in her chair.

"There's nothing fine about that woman." Edwin's tone sharpened. "She tried to arrange a marriage to me while I was presumed dead. She feeds on prestige. Titles give her power, and power gives her pleasure."

He turned, locking eyes with Acacia. "Do you actually think she's a vessel like you?"

Acacia's gaze dropped to Behemoth, whose long tongue was still lazily sweeping through her bowl. She scratched his chin again.

"No," she said simply.

"Wait...what?" Bella blinked, confused.

'I don't need to ask you, do I? You already said two vessels can't exist in the same space,' Acacia thought.

'Correct,' Daemonis murmured in her mind, a whisper brushing the back of her skull.

"I'm not surprised," Edwin muttered. "She probably cooked something up with her grandmother to seem relevant again. Spun a lie out of the truth. I'll need to comb through the old records tomorrow, get the facts."

"Let Bella and me handle that," Acacia said, her voice firm as she lifted her gaze. "You need to focus on solidifying your place in the court. You can't rule if you're constantly looking over your shoulder."

"I second that," Bella nodded. "We'll take the research. You deal with the politics."

Edwin looked between them, something unreadable flickering behind his eye. He gave a small nod, grateful, maybe, but too proud to say it aloud.

"Alright, let's head to bed. We've got a busy day tomorrow," Edwin said, rising from his seat and making his way toward the exit.

Acacia scooped Behemoth from her bowl, the reptile slithering lazily in her grip. As she passed one of the maids, she paused.

"Could you bring a piece of meat to my room?"

The maid gave a silent nod. Acacia offered a small smile, then followed Bella as they exited the dining hall and split off toward their respective chambers.

Once inside her room, Acacia let the door click shut behind her and finally allowed her shoulders to sag. She tossed Behemoth gently onto the bed, watching him sprawl and coil comfortably in the sheets. A soft knock came a moment later.

She opened the door to see the maid holding a tray with a slab of roasted meat, steam curling into the cool air.

"Thank you," Acacia said, her voice low with fatigue as she accepted the plate and shut the door behind her. She set the plate on the floor, then picked up Behemoth again and placed him beside the meal.

"Eat up."

With a pleased hiss, Behemoth eagerly dug into the food. Acacia sank onto the bed, her fingers working at the clasps of her jewellery. One by one, the pieces came off, set gently on the nearby table. She kicked off her sandals, unbraided her hair, and let the dark waves spill freely past her shoulders.

From the soft cradle of the mattress, she gazed out the window, where a ribbon of orange light filtered through the parted curtain, brushing her face in a warm, fleeting glow. The sunset bled slowly into dusk, and the gentle stillness of twilight settled in.

"I'm starting to miss them," Acacia murmured, almost to herself.

Behemoth, now full, slithered up the side of the bed and coiled lazily around her neck. The familiar pressure grounded her.

"Pits… gods… annoying sibling… Ciflith… beast-men… and now this power I barely understand." Her voice trailed off as she stroked the length of Behemoth's scaled body. Her gaze unfocused, drawn inward. "So much is happening all at once. I don't even know where to start."

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, exhaling.

"I should focus on the pit. Find whatever Ramiel left behind. But it took him… eight months? No...nine? I can't even remember." She groaned softly, rubbing at her temples. "That's too long to be trapped in some cryptic hole with no food."

Her eyes opened again, the resolve slowly gathering behind them.

"I'll bring supplies. Enough to last as long as possible. But before I dive into anything, I need to talk to that old woman… see the pit myself… and read Ramiel's book."

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Outside, the last of the orange light faded into indigo. Acacia lay back against the plush pillows, eyes still fixed on the shadowed ceiling, as Behemoth curled tighter around her like a whisper of protection. With a final pat on Behemoth's smooth scales, Acacia let her eyes drift shut, surrendering to a deep and dreamless sleep.

Time slipped by like silk on skin. The morning sun spilt golden light through the gauzy curtains, casting warm, rippling patterns across the room. The maids entered with practised grace, gently rousing Acacia from sleep. As always, they assisted her through the morning rituals, her bath scented with crushed lotus petals, her hair unbound and then braided anew, and her gown fastened with delicate, practised fingers.

By the time she entered the dining hall, Bella was already seated at the long table, delicately sipping from a glass of water.

"Good morning, Acacia," Bella greeted with a soft smile.

"Morning," Acacia returned, offering a faint smile as she took the seat beside her. She picked up her utensils and sampled the warm, fragrant breakfast laid before her, fluffy spiced flatbread, slow-cooked beans laced with citrus oil, and a mild pepper sauce that tingled on her tongue. "Where's Edwin?"

"He left early to handle an emergency," Bella replied, cutting into a slice of fruit. "But he assigned that man over there to escort us to the library afterwards." She subtly motioned toward a tall man with deer antlers stationed by the doorway, hands clasped behind his back and posture immaculate.

Acacia blinked. 'I didn't even notice him standing there.'

"We shouldn't waste any time," Bella added, her tone quiet but resolute.

Acacia nodded, and they ate quickly. The moment they finished, the servants stepped forward, clearing their plates with seamless efficiency. The man approached them, offering a slight, respectful bow.

"It is an honour," he said, voice smooth and steady. "My name is Siran. Please, follow me."

He turned sharply, leading them through the quiet hallways of the palace. Their gowns swished softly with each step, trailing behind them like wisps of silk. The air grew fresher as they passed into the garden, thick with the perfume of morning dew, blooming jasmine, and sun-warmed earth. Birds flitted through the trees, and the distant gurgle of a fountain echoed faintly as they followed the cobblestone path.

A modest building soon came into view, its façade covered in flowering vines and carved with old runes. Siran opened the door and gestured inside. Within, rows of shelves stretched to the ceiling, every inch crammed with books and scrolls. The scent of parchment and aged ink settled thick in the air.

"If you need any assistance, I will be nearby," Siran said, offering another bow before stepping aside.

"Thank you," Acacia replied, already scanning the room.

She and Bella drifted toward the aisles. Acacia's eyes landed on a polished plaque that read "Histories & Lineages." She followed Bella into the section, her fingers brushing over worn spines until one caught her attention. She slid it free and flipped it open, her eyes immediately drawn into the faded ink and delicate sketches within.

Time seemed to pause as the dusty stillness of the library settled around them, thick with untold stories and half-buried truths. The pages crackled faintly as she read, accounts of how the kingdom had weathered the monstrous invasion eighty years ago. She traced the ornate, faded ink with her eyes: tales of warriors who had blessed their blades with sacred rites, of kings who led men into battle beneath a bloodstained sky, and of sacrifices that kept the beasts at bay, though at the cost of thousands of lives. The text also described their enduring reverence for the mountains and the gods believed to slumber within them.

With a tired sigh, Acacia snapped the book shut. Dust leapt into the air, dancing in the golden shafts of sunlight slicing through the high windows.

"Same story," she murmured, sliding the book back onto the shelf. "Different place. Different methods."

She reached for another, only to find the title inscribed in Lalannese script. The elegant curls of the letters swam before her eyes.

"Ugh." She groaned and shoved it back into place with a sharp thud.

From the next aisle over, Bella's voice piped up, soft and thoughtful. "I think I found something."

Acacia turned as Bella approached, eyes fixed on the open book in her hands.

"It says: The gods cannot step onto mortal soil without consequence. So they send their voices through vessels they deem worthy. Priests and priestesses may catch faint echoes, but vessels hear them clearly. To become one, a soul must be the purest of devotees, unwavering in faith, powerful in magic, and perfected in body and mind. Only then might a god judge them worthy."

Acacia blinked. "Yeah... I'm basically the antithesis of that."

Bella cracked a grin. "Maybe deep down you secretly adore the god of destruction and rebirth."

Acacia snorted. "Unlikely. I grew up in a household where we barely remembered our birthdays, let alone prayed. And magic? I only got that after this whole mess started."

"Then maybe it's just a story they tell themselves to feel in control," Bella said, closing the book with a quiet snap. "It could be their way of rationalising something they don't understand."

"Which makes sense. Control is comforting." Acacia ran a hand down the worn spines of the books in front of her, pausing as her fingers settled on another leather-bound volume. She pulled it free, cracked it open and groaned aloud at the sight of yet more incomprehensible Lalannese.

She didn't hesitate.

"Siran!"

The man appeared almost instantly, as if summoned by thought alone, bowing low with the practised grace of a court servant. "Yes, my lady?"

Acacia handed the book to him with a raised brow. "Summarise this for me. Fast."

Siran accepted the book with both hands, his expression calm and composed. His eyes scanned the pages swiftly, fingers deftly flipping through them with the ease of someone long accustomed to such tasks. After a few moments of silent reading, he stopped, exhaling lightly through his nose.

"It speaks of the cultural evolution of Lalan," he said at last, voice steady.

"Anything on Ramiel?" Acacia asked, watching him closely.

He paused before gently closing the book. "No, my lady. His name is not mentioned."

"Shame." Acacia exhaled. "Do you know anything about him personally? Stories passed down?"

"I've only heard the common tale," Siran replied, returning the book to its place. "That he was a revered priest, beloved and devout until he vanished without a trace. All he left behind was a book bearing his name. No mention of family, only vague passages about the pit."

Acacia frowned, tapping a finger against her arm. 'I don't think I'll find anything useful here about him. Either someone erased his trail… or he never wanted to be found.'

"Where exactly is the pit?" Bella asked.

Siran turned to her. "It lies behind the first mountain range, shielded by wards and magical barriers."

"Of course it does," Acacia muttered, rubbing her temple. "Alright, stay close. You're my translator now."

He gave a small nod and silently moved to assist. Together, they resumed digging through ancient tomes, Siran murmuring translations as he skimmed their contents. But the deeper they searched, the clearer it became: Ramiel was little more than a shadow in Lalan's recorded history. The priesthood logs described him as a gentle, persistent soul but his name only appeared once or twice, and always without detail.

Acacia eventually closed a particularly dense manuscript with a frustrated snap. "We're wasting time. He's been scrubbed from the records or he never mattered to them."

"I'm starting to feel dizzy from all this reading," Bella admitted, rubbing her eyes as she leaned against the end of a shelf.

The two girls stepped out of the aisle, Siran quietly returning the last book to its place before joining them. They exited the building, greeted once more by the soft scents of the garden's blossoms and the sound of rustling leaves in the breeze.

"We should try asking Edwin or one of the older staff to see if anyone knows more," Acacia said as she stretched, her shoulders cracking from tension.

"Good idea, but he might still be busy." Bella walked alongside her as they moved across the stone path toward the palace.

Just then, something caught Acacia's eye. She slowed to a stop, her gaze drifting downward.

On the path ahead lay two long, lavender peacock feathers. They shimmered faintly, the ends curling slightly as if freshly dropped.

"Edwin…?" Bella murmured, brows furrowed in confusion.