"Sweep of the Royal Palace is complete. No evidence of an heir was found. The rumour appears to be false. Our assessment is that the Queen was merely hiding her own person, not an heir." - Sentinel Internal Report, 26th June 197 A.D.
***
7th May, 207 A.D.
Caerum
The walking closet smells of cheese and old parchment. This is my personal sanctuary.
I sit cross legged on the floor, squeezed between towers of leather bound books. I close my eyes and reach inward. Feeling the power within me.
It's there. Always there.
A hum beneath my skin. A river of cold, dangerous fire waiting for me to let it out. Taliah calls it lumina. She says everyone has it, but mine feels different. Hers is a quiet stream, mine is riptide. It feels hungry.
I focus on the tip of my index finger. Come out, I think. Just a little.
The air drops few degrees. A thin thread of blue mist curls from my fingertip. It's beautiful, yet terrifying.
...Break it...
The whisper echoes in the back of my mind.
...End...Kill...Die...Destroy...
The voices are faint, like people arguing in a distant room, but the intent is sharp. The blue mist pulses, hungry. It wants to grow. It wants to touch the books, the walls, the world. It wants to destroy.
My heart hammers. Beads of sweat prickle my forehead. I shouldn't do this. Taliah forbade it. "Never channel blue lumina. Not until you are ready."
But I am ten today. Not a child anymore.
The mist expands, bathing the closet in blue light.
...Destroy...
I can hear door handle turn.
Panic spikes in my chest. I clench my fist, severing the flow of lumina. The blue mist vanishes instantly, leaving only the lingering chill and fear.
I snatch the nearest book from the stack, history of Central Dominion, and bury my nose in it just as the sunlight floods in.
"Seraph?"
Taliah stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the afternoon sun from the bedroom. She scans the small space, her eyes narrowing. She sniffs the air.
"What are you doing?"
"I ... I am reading," I stammer. holding up the book.
Taliah stares at me for a long second. She looks tired. There are new lines around her eyes, that weren't there before. She steps inside and wipes the sweat away from my forehead. Her palm is warm, grounding.
"You are freezing," she murmurs. Then she looks at book in my hands. "And you're reading upside down."
I flush, flipping the book over. "I am practising ... inverted reading. For mental agility."
A rare smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. She sighs, the tension leaving her shoulders. "You act more like your mother every day. Stubborn and reckless."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Besides hiding from your lessons on your birthday?" She reaches down and pulls me up. "Come on. Jonah is waiting. We aren't doing history today," she grabs the book from my hands and places it back on the stack.
"We aren't?" I ask, dusting of my trousers. "Can I go outside then? To the garden?"
"Not yet," her face hardens. "Come we have a different lesson."
She leads me out of the bedroom and down the marble corridor. The manor is quiet. Too quiet. It's always just the three of us.
We enter the main hall. Jonah is already waiting there. He looks up as we enter, his expression serious.
"Happy birthday, little spark," he says, though his voice is tight.
"Taliah said no history today," I say, hoping for a game or tasty pastry.
"No history," Jonah agrees. "Today, we practice the protocol."
My shoulders slump. "Again? We did it last week."
"And we will do it every week until you can do it in your sleep," Taliah says, moving to stand beside him. "Seraph. Code Black. Begin."
A chill settles in my stomach. I hate this part.
I sigh, straightening my posture. I recite the words I've been memorising since I was five.
"If you give the command, I do not ask questions. I hide."
"Where?" Jonah asks.
"The attic. The loose panel behind the old chest."
"What do you take?"
"The Go Bag. It has clothes, dried meat and ... the coin pouch."
"And then?" Taliah presses.
"I wait until it's safe. Then I take the servant's stairs down the back wall. I don't look back. I don't scream. I run until I reach the Outer Ring. I go to the slums"
Jonah nods, satisfied. He reaches into his pocked and pulls out a black locket. He hands it to me. "This is for you. Put it on."
I take it. The metal is black and cold. I click it open. Inside is a painting of beautiful young woman with long black hair and modest crown.
"My mother?" I whisper.
"Dinah," Taliah confirms softly. "She was a Sentinel just like us. Keep it hidden. Always."
I can see her right hand trace the tattoo on her left arm, as she is says it.
"Now let's get something tasty to eat," Taliah says, her voice shifting from commander back to caregiver.
I feel my smile growing, stretching wide across my face. The tension of the drill melts away as she produces a small box from behind her back.
Inside are honey glazed rolls, still warm. My favourite.
We sit on the floor, right in the middle of the hall, ignoring the proper dining table. Jonah takes a bite and gets sticky glaze on his chin. He doesn't wipe it off immediately. Instead he puffs his cheeks, making me giggle until my sides hurt.
Taliah laughs as well. Then she reaches out, brushing away the glazing tenderly, while looking into Jonah's eyes. Her touch lingering longer than necessary.
I look between them, my mouth full of sweet dough. The fear from the closet feels miles away. Here, sandwiched between Jonah's sturdy shoulder and Taliah's gentle gaze, I feel safe. I feel at home.
***