Chapter Two | Ardaya

A Fool’s Prayer

Our footsteps crunch under the leaf litter scattered across the tiled floor of the entrance. Centuries of neglect has rendered this place dangerous, prime for opportunists lying in wait, but we accepted the risks by coming here.

There are far greater risks in doing nothing.

As I murmur my mother’s words of wisdom, my younger sister crouches down on the ground and sets her lantern out in front of her. Her nimble fingers reach for the latch, flicking it up and pulling the glass door open. She then strikes a match across the ground. With the flame flaring to life, she gently guides the match inside to where the candles reside. One wick, and then two. With the third finally lit, she’s quick to snuff the match out with her fingertips before dropping it on the floor and crunching it underneath her boot.

“It’s not much.” Nera’s eyes focus on the lantern as she latches it shut. “But it’s all I could grab without drawing the guards’ attention.” She looks up, watching the entrance to the temple for any glimpse she can get of danger or disturbances. “And it’s all we’ve got in there.”

Her harsh glare settles on me.

“So be careful with it.”

“Of course,” I promise her quietly. I reach for the silver handle, admiring the lantern’s gentle glow. It’s as if she’s here with us. Promising us that everything will be okay. And that our prayers will be answered.

We ascend the staircase before us, finally entering the Gateway of the Celestials. It wasn’t easy shaking off the guards, but we had no other choice. Something sinister is lurking within the shadows across Ashberry, something dangerous. And despite our efforts to do right by the people, our father insists nothing is wrong.

They all do.

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” I murmur.

“Don’t be stupid,” she scoffs back. “You wouldn’t know what danger was if it came lunging at you with a ten-foot pole!”

“Let’s not, Nera...”

She, of course, had insisted on accompanying me to the Gateway when I’d advised her of my plans the other day. She doesn’t seem to believe it herself, but I know she will when it eventually happens to one of her close friends.

“For months now, people have been disappearing off the streets,” I remind her quietly as I walk past the pews. “At first, it didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. I’d chalked it down to mere mishaps and misadventures...but it’s a particular kind of person that continues to dwindle in number around Ashberry.”

“You think?”

“I do have reason to suspect so, yes.”

But it doesn’t matter.

People are boarding up their homes, questioning the intentions of their own friends and family. Schools and universities are slowly shutting across the country, with fewer numbers left to staff or attend them. Many markets and storefronts lie abandoned; they’ve long been ransacked and looted by the many thieves and burglars that litter our streets.

Those who remain open do so only under extreme precautions, its workers too frightened to leave in fear of what might happen to them.

“Do you think this has something to do with the Magna Carta?” Nera finally asks me. “Is that why we’re here?”

I pause, unsure of how to respond. Nera knows I’ve never really believed in their power. The denizens of the orbit have always been too stubborn and fixed in their own ways to work together. Why is suffering still so prominent across both worlds? Are the Archangels of the Magna Carta ignorant to the limits of their own powers? But I’ve always thought that way.

No. This is something new.

“The Ceremony of Passage is tomorrow, Ardaya.”

“Exactly. But to think it is an instant fix is to live deluded. I just know someone will finally take their chance and strike.”

The air is still with dust inside the temple; it seems at first glance that nobody has been inside for a long time. As the amber flames within my lantern dance a gentle waltz on their wicks, I gaze at the various portraits on the walls, depicting the many people who have diligently served within the Magna Carta’s ranks across the nearly nine millennia.

“Say what you want about the Magna Carta,” Nera decides with a grin, “but they have some pretty decent art, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” I decide as I gesture to a portrait near the entrance. “Who’s that one?”

“Lanra Arpeus of the First. Archangel of the Fractal Planes.”

And right she is. Lady Arpeus is depicted with basic lines as a simple figure shrouded in a shawl of woven fibres, her arms crossed over her chest as she curls into a ball.

“And...what about that one over by the eighth pew on the left?”

“Sydel Caine of the Sixth, Archangel of the Skies. They say he could summon clouds from the skies and walk amongst the gods themselves.”

Correct again.

Lord Caine carries an air of nobility with his silken robes and plentiful, precise brushstrokes. He’d hailed from the emerging kingdom of Pelagia, a once quiet and secluded atoll, now the top island getaway destination for Cycleran retirees looking to shell over top dollar for a night at one of the many high-rise resorts.

It’s funny, the sheer amount of change he would have seen in his thousand years of service. And yet...how much he hadn’t.

As the ages progress, the portraits become increasingly intricate detailed, with the current, Eighth Magna Carta, depicted with beautiful stained glass portraits. They would have been illuminated by the soft glow of candles back in this temple’s heyday, each dancing flame making the portraits appear as if they were breathing and moving...well, that was the intention, I’m told. If this temple was still in use by the masses today, I presume it’d be illuminated by LED lights, although it wouldn’t have the same beautiful effect.

I approach the Celestial Altar.

Its offerings, left by centuries of worshippers, vary from hand-carved idols and antique trinkets, to more lavish gifts, such as medallions and talismans. All of them priceless in her eyes, I imagine. I kneel down before the golden statue at the centre of it all and set down my lantern. I clasp my hands together and lower my head. Even as my vision fades, I can sense the warmth of the lantern’s flame against my eyelids. But just as I close my eyes, the lantern flickers. Not from wind, but almost as if something has passed through it.

Only she can help us now.

“O’ Mother of Worlds, hear my plea. I call upon you in our greatest time of need.”

“This is your plan?”

I open one eye, met with the sight of Nera’s arms crossed over her chest in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to come.”

I’m secretly glad she did, though.

“This is stupid, Ardie, even for you. You really think Astra cares?”

“Someone has to,” I murmur under my breath, wincing at her use of the name. “It’s worth a shot, is it not?”

With a hefty sigh, she joins me and presses her palms together.

As we continue my prayer together, I secretly thank the Mother of Worlds in thought. Nera means well, I’m sure of it. I just think she can be a bit too harsh at times.

These things take time, Ardie. You just need to be patient. Do good unto others, and others will do good unto you—

“Your father worries for you, Princess Ardaya.” 

With a hefty sigh, I pause my prayer.

Of course.

“I’m sorry, Archangel Cavaliere,” Nera sighs while standing up and making her way over to the doorway. “Please forgive our absence from this evening’s duties.”

“There is no need for an apology,” he assures her. “He just wants to know that you two are alright.”

“And why would he have any reason to worry?” I rise from the ground and spin on my heel. “As far as our father is concerned, the Ashberrian Empire is completely fine.”

Cavaliere peers at me over the top of his silver-framed, tortoiseshell glasses. Compared to the grandiose stained glass portrait (in which he’s depicted in a heavy, gold-threaded cloak of deep, royal blue), he’s dressed today in a simple mustard yellow trench coat and dark grey trousers. His short, silvery coils of hair are tucked underneath his trilby hat.

“We both know that isn’t true, Your Majesty.”

I feel a pang of anger coursing through my chest. He’s one of the reasonable ones, I have to remind myself. But it just infuriates me. I know Archangel Cavaliere doesn’t believe the words he speaks. But instead of letting my disdain loose with a scathing snap or a nasty remark, I sit with it.

Try to understand where it’s coming from.

“Do not be fooled, Princess,” he continues as he places a hand on my shoulder. “I know something is wrong. And you have done well to take note of it. But waiting for something to change will do your people no good. You will be of more help to the people if you are there in their time of need.”

“Then how do I stop this?”

He lowers his head. Nera notices my glance to her and almost immediately looks elsewhere, shuffling in her boots.

“How, Colton? How do I act for these people who don’t know if their next day will be their last?” I try to hold back my tears, but a few slip through, dripping onto my open palms. “You think I haven’t tried. But I’ve been out there, passing out rations to people who haven’t seen as much as a crumb in days. Consoling children who’ve lost their parents, and parents their children. My guards have been on countless patrols at night, looking around for the perpetrators. But nothing has worked. What has my father done for his people?”

I return to the Celestial Altar and clasp my hands together.

“He is doing enough, Lady Gaud.”

I close my eyes.

“Maybe if I pray to the Mother of Worlds...maybe she’ll choose nine tomorrow who will take this matter seriously.”