Entry I: Daybreak - The Choosing of the Keeper
The dawn bells rang out across the city, then came the voice.
“For a thousand years of war
And a thousand years defending”
Queen Federica’s voice echoed from the spires, soft and amplified, soaked in reverence.
“Every thousand years this door
Marks a thousand years of mending”
Mothers paused, children straightened. Street vendors bowed slightly without looking up.
“In ten-thousand years restore
What a thousand years was rending”
I mouthed along. It felt wrong not to.
“And with a thousand years more
Find ten-thousand minds Ascending”
Her voice more passionate now, speaking of the golden age to come.
“So walk the path, see through the mist
The Grove beyond stands sure
It waits for one, a catalyst
Whose heart and hands are pure
A soul unbent by hatred’s twist
Reveals the Grove’s own cure
Heir to the throne, the Alchemist”
My lips froze.
“And a light that shall endure.”
Silence. The bell tolled again. The city exhaled.
The words inscribed into the stone door of the Grove. In Obsidian, we awoke to them, every morning. Our identity as a people: forged from heat and pressure into something beautiful and useful. Ten-thousand years have passed since the age of the Keepers began and The Thousand Year War ended. The search for the last keeper has begun.
I slipped on the dress I’d bought just for today; my family crest hanging from a chain round my neck. Today, the ancient doors to the Celestial Grove would appear, and Mira, of course, was already waiting for me. I grabbed her hand as my guards opened the wrought iron gate.
“We’re going to be late, again”, she said with a flick of her wrist.
“Well, let’s go”, I said annoyed.
“I’m not moving until I get an apology”, she said loudly as she turned away from me. The street hushed, eyes everywhere on us. I rolled my eyes. Mira’s dramatics had a way of turning a crowd.
“Mira, forgive me, but I had to look my best. THIS, is a once in a lifetime event,” showing off my outfit, “and so is the Grove opening ceremony.”
Mira didn’t move.
“Mira, please”.
Nothing.
“Mira, for Orthud’s sake. Let’s go!”
She flinched. A smirk broke through her stoic posture. Then she took off at full sprint toward the city center. I bolted after her.
“Mira, slow down!”
“You said, ‘Go!’”
She took off like a gazelle. I only caught up to her in The Great Hall panting and fixing my hair. She tossed her curly hair a few times. It bounced back into place. Her face just barely glistened in the sun light. I cursed, still flushed, frustrated with my hair. The pins I’d painstakingly placed were slipping again. The black slivers of obsidian glass glinted with red aura faintly in the sunlight. Enchanted glass could withstand a blow from a hammer and hold magical aura, living light, but it could not hold my stubborn hair. Without a mirror, I stumbled blindly trying to style it again. Mira reappeared. She’d doubled back to find me. We both knew the consequences of showing up a bit late were tolerable, but late and disheveled, was a line too far. Mira combed through my hair with her hands and shaped it so that it fell to the small of my back. She collected the pins for me.
“I’ll hold on to these for you.”
She held my hand as we walked through the gigantic arcade of the Great Hall. Between the arches were reliefs of the entire history of the Obsidian people. Mira never looked too long at the reliefs. I tried to name each scene as we walked. I still remembered the order from our school drills. The Great Founders. The Discovery of Obsidian, The First Imbuing with Aura and Ichor. The Thousand-Year War. Nomen Delere, The Name Annihilation. At the center stood General Orthud Catenora, sword drawn, foot on a broken crown. He looked proud. Triumphant. Father always said that this statue is why we, of House Catenora, must always walk tall. We are his legacy.
Mira and I took our places in my family’s booth. I looked to my mother. She checked the time, flared her nostrils, paused, then looked me up and down.
“You don’t have to run if you leave on time, Aisling.”
I cursed under my breath and looked at Mira.
“How does she always know?!” She mouthed.
“You’ve managed to properly style your hair with aura I see.” My mother smiled gently.
A chill flew down my spine. The non-complement from my mother meant forgiveness and that she appreciated Mira’s styling job. I hadn’t realized she’d imbued it with aura.
Mira and I exchanged a concerned look. We’d discuss later.
Queen Federica’s voice silenced the crowd. This time, it wasn’t a recording. Her magically amplified voice felt intimate, as if she’d just whispered in everyone’s ears simultaneously.
“We’ve gathered here on the eve of Obsidian’s Jubilee to choose the final keeper who will fulfill the prophecy the Grove gave us ten-thousand years ago on the day the Thousand-Year War ended. Today, we celebrate, for the Ascension is nigh. The new keeper, selected today, will be our final representative to walk the Grove and work…” she touched her extravagantly long fingernail to her lips. She paused.
Silence.
“…to mend and restore that which was lost in the Thousand-Year War.” We chanted in unison, save Mira.
Mira’s face was pleasant, but her eyes burned with aura. Surprised and worried, I took her hand again. I felt an energy I’d never experienced before; I felt the depth, intensity, and complexity of Mira’s emotions wash over me like getting caught in a sudden heavy rain. Such anger, but none of it was mine. She broke her gaze at Queen Federica when I gasped. My eyes had begun to well. Her grip tightened to match mine.
Silence.
As soon as her grip tensed around my own, it was all gone. I felt hollowed. Queen Federica gave a single clap. The air cracked. Magic rippled through the hall.
“And now, let us honor the Keeper who will usher us into our golden age. Scouts have reported the name inscribed on the Grove’s doors since its first appearance. Their report has come one last time.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Our golden age keeper is… Aisling Catenora”. My mother’s jaw dropped. Mira released my hand. I froze, unable to move. Every eye on me, save Mira’s.
Silence.