Last night, after the history lesson with Professor Monroe, Mel thought about the history of Aldrion. She thought about the royal line, Falden and about the Taveck line. She wondered why Austin had kept his importance from her, the importance of his family. His ancestor was sculpted riding a horse in the town square and everyone seemed to know who his family was around here.
These thoughts had piqued Mel’s interest about Aldrion and not only magic, but the people who had lived here and the people who lived here today. She wanted to know more, to fill the gaps in her knowledge and progress in her search for the truth about her dagger. Mel didn’t want to feel like she had yesterday, like the only one in her entire class who didn’t know the meaning of the name Taveck.
She had finally opened the book, A mage smith’s memoir, and started reading about a man who had lived in Aldrion during the start of the 12th century. His name was Alexander Etrope, and he had been born here.
So far, Mel had only read the first few chapters that seemed to describe mostly the perpetual darkness of Aldrion and the horror of growing up during wartime.
It wasn’t a pretty story and most of the time, Mel felt chilled to her bones. She didn’t know if it was because the book was written over a century ago or if the war had just been worse back then. But something in his text made her uneasy. How he portrayed the beasts as shadowy and fleeting like the wind and how he described the frequent attacks on Aldrion.
Mel had been living in Aldrion now for a couple of weeks and, so far, no attacks. She was starting to believe that maybe the rumors about the war were just lies. But something told her that wasn’t true. Something in Alexander’s memoir told her it would get worse.
It was early in the morning when Gabs rolled off her bed and thudded to the floor. Her usual wake up routine when they had to get up before Falden was bustling with students. She really wasn’t a morning person. Mel looked up from her book and her legs relaxed down onto her cover. She smiled at Gabs.
“Good morning.”
“Mmrmmr,” Mel heard from the lump on the floor.
“Yes, I know,” Mel said. “It’s early.”
She looked outside the window by her desk and saw the sun rising in the distance. Already tainted by the dark clouds surrounding Aldrion and the wastes, but a few streams of sunlight found their way through the misty substance. She put down the book and changed her clothes.
Gabs had gotten up from the floor by now and was squeezing into a dress, demanding Mel to lace up her back. Since servants weren't allowed at Falden, Gabs frequently used Mel as her professional dresser. She didn’t complain when Mel put a foot against the leg of Gabs’ bed and pulled at the two ends of the lace. Mel strained and tied a knot with the ends at the top of the back.
Gabs turned around and adjusted the chest piece. She blew away strands of hair from her face. Then continued threading another sort of dress over her body. This one, Mel had been taught, was the outer dress.
“Are you sure you don’t want to look nice today for the sun?” Gabs asked.
Mel shook her head. “Not even for the dragons.”
After Gabs had done her hair up and Mel had continued reading a few pages about Alexander’s childhood, they headed out from the dorms. They rode in several carriages with their classmates all the way to the church of the sun, up on the hill, close to the town hall on the north side of Aldrion.
Both Clara and Gabriella wore long dresses and frequently took quick shallow breaths, looking uncomfortable in their laced up chest pieces. Flavio and Brandon had their short puffy pants with silk and golden threads embroidered into the fabric. Mel had on her gray clothes today, warmer than her other, but not particularly fancy.
When she jumped out of Gabriella and Clara’s carriage by the church, she saw Austin standing outside, waiting for them to arrive. He had his eyes turned to the sky and his hands in his pockets. He wore a black shirt and pants, a navy blue cloak and on his chest gleamed a golden sun.
His hair was combed to one side, making him look older and more boring than usual. It was slick and glossy, like he had licked it with grease. He was a dark figure, hit with only occasional glimpses of sunlight, almost vanishing on the gray steps of the church.
Professor Monroe stepped up beside him and a long sliver cloak shimmered along her back. Mel joined them on the steps and the professor turned to the now gathered class.
“Today we will take part in living history,” the professor said. “I want you to listen to the people, watch their faces and see the belief as something worth recording in your mind. This experience is not one from a paper, it is one you create with all of your senses. I know most of you come here once a week, or more often than that. But this isn’t a normal day when you snooze off at Sunday sermon for an hour. This is a day to open your eyes, ears, and dare to touch beyond the superficial. Become part of history.”
The professor walked to the door, then quickly turned back and added. “Also, note that you have to stay quiet at all times when the priest is speaking and mind your place inside. Let’s head in before it starts.”
A frown spread across Mel’s face as Professor Monroe turned her back toward them and strode inside. She had no idea what to expect. She had never been inside any other religious building than the chapel in Windbrook. The chapel that was dedicated to the dragons.
Inside, the place was cold and stuffy. Great chandeliers hung in gold from the ceiling and up over the altar hung an ornamented sun. Mel’s steps could be heard throughout the church, so could everyone else's, and for a moment, that was all that was heard. Feet shuffling forward in a slow pace, reverent bows to the sun, and her hands felt only wooden benches and banisters.
Soon she was seated in the second row. There seemed to be no reserved seats for important families. In fact, Austin from the Taveck line sat on the fifth. He was looking down at his hands and his eyes were closed. Mel watched a priest enter the room, took his place up by the altar and spread his hands before him. There were other people than her classmates seated inside, nondescript people with reverent faces.
“I welcome you today,” the priest said. “Here in front of the sun, we are all equal. The mother doesn’t divide us up by class or position. She loves all. Sees all.”
Mel shifted, uncomfortable on the wooden bench. Uncomfortable with the message.
“It is the rise of her sunrays that we come here to celebrate today. For many, it can seem as just an ordinary time, a day like all the others. But for those of us connected to her presence, we can feel her love rising. Vanishing the darkness and the night, always fighting against evil for us. She gives us what we cannot give ourselves. She loves us when we cannot love ourselves. She is one with us. Therefore, we say to her;”
“Shine your light on us, grant us your loving presence, and lend us your strength to fight another day.”
The crowd murmured with the priest, “Osol.”
Mel looked around the church. What did that mean?
Light shone in through a round window, stained in red, orange, and yellow, in a mesmerizing pattern. It shone down onto the altar and hit a golden cup standing on a piece of white cloth.
“Come, children,” the priest said. “Let us take the mother’s embrace.”
Mel’s classmates stood up from their seats and formed a line in front of the altar. Mel was shoved into the line with gentle pushes and guidance. She didn’t like this. It felt like tiny bugs were crawling under her skin and she wanted to run out from here.
Her gaze searched her surroundings, trying to find a calm place to rest her eyes on. But everywhere were statues of people wearing clothes of silk, gold, and silver. Everywhere was the sun, like an all-seeing eye. Watching her. Loving her, seeing her.
Mel’s breath was quick, ragged, and her chest heaved. She felt someone pushing her forward and Mel’s vision blurred. Then she felt a hand against her back, between her shoulder blades, and she returned to the present. The line was moving forward; the priest handing a cup to professor Monroe, she took a sip of something inside. The mother.
“Osol,” the professor said, handing back the cup to the priest.
Mel felt a breath against her neck and then a tickle as her hair brushed away and someone whispered in her ear.
“You can get out of the line, Melissa,” Austin said. “You don’t have to take the mother’s embrace.”
Somehow it was already her turn and Mel felt her legs moving up toward the priest. He was standing above her, looking down. His lips were moving. But Mel didn’t know what he was saying. He handed her the cup.
Mel took it with both hands, wrapping her fingers around the golden outside. She stared down into blood. She swirled it around inside. The blood hit the walls of the cup, sloshed around like waves on a stormy sea. Mel pressed her lips against the cup's edge and inhaled. Spices and alcohol reached her nostrils.
She took a sip. Red liquid floated in her mouth and down her throat. The mother’s embrace. Her eyes shot up to the priest as he took the cup from her hands.
“Osol,” Mel said, and the priest nodded.
#
The church had emptied of the priest and the reverent visitors, only Mel’s class and Professor Monroe were left. The sun was no longer shining on top of the altar and the cup with the mother’s embrace was gone. But Mel could still feel it on her lips.
Her fingers traced the line of her mouth and when she looked at her hand, the tip of her index finger was stained with blood. It was such a powerful feeling, like nothing she’d felt before. She couldn’t explain it, how the mother felt inside of her. She just felt here now, in her veins, their blood mixed.
Austin kicked Mel’s leg, and she jumped in her seat, drawing the attention of both the class and Professor Monroe. Mel turned to Austin, sitting next to her on the wooden bench, and his eyes rolled. Professor Monroe and the class turned away from them, and Austin leaned into Mel’s ear.
“Stop touching your lips and looking dazed,” he said. “You need to keep up with what the professor is saying.”
Mel frowned, but looked back at Professor Monroe. She was giving a lecture, Mel realized, on the church of the sun and Mel was missing it. She planted her feet against the stone floor and focused harder, making out the words spilling out from Professor Monroe’s mouth.
“...Klas the third was actually the one who first recognized the church of the sun and changed his own beliefs to ours. Before that, the people of the valley had believed in the opposite, in fact. They had believed in a looming darkness, in magic and steel. Much like what the people of the wasteland still believe today.”
“Some think it’s why they haven't been killed by the beasts yet, others think they are being killed by the beasts but are just too stubborn to move inside the protection of the walls. It’s all speculation, though. There hasn't been anyone let into their culture and religion for centuries. Who can tell what the people of the wastes really worship or why they keep living out there beyond the wall.”
“I find it most fascinating, but that will be tomorrow's lecture. Today, let’s continue to focus on the church of the sun.”
“The king who changed the state religion was Gustaf the third, the last Gustaf we have had. He was said to hold such reverence for the sun and thought he would be accepted further into the mother’s embrace if he forced everyone to worship her. He got some backlash from this. Eventually he had to acknowledge the dragon cult and other minority religions, such as the people from the wastelands’ beliefs, as valid.”
“But he did tell the people of Stonehearth in one of his more popular speeches that even though the dragon cult was now a valid religion, only ignorant farmers would believe in such foolishness. This, however, I think Melissa can attest to, is not true.“
“Many people from the dragon cult have shown to be very competent and capable. And the dragon cult isn’t so different from the church of the sun as one might think. The dragons have an important part in the church of the sun, such as mythological creatures, that were said to have aided the mother in her fight.”
“Of course, the church of the sun still believes the mother to be real. And the dragons are more like her sunlight. A depiction of a scaly beast with dragon fire, to make people understand her light better. The real fanatics of the church of the sun even say it’s important to distinguish the battle of Cairn as a moment when the sun granted us strength beyond our belief and later gave us the dragon stones as a form of her light. In other words, the mother gave us magic to fight the beasts and we, some say, are therefore the dragons.”
Mel’s mouth gaped open and her head turned to Austin. He was looking at her with a neutral expression on his lips. Mel’s eyes felt beady, and she wanted Austin to tell her this wasn’t what he believed. He didn’t think he was a dragon, right?
Or that he was going to become one when he was done studying and granted the official title of an elemental warrior. But then again, did Mel really believe in flying scaly creatures that walked the earth? What had those first people of the valley discovered beyond Windbrook?
Flying scaly creatures or a sunlight God, granting magic. Both seemed equally preposterous.
Mel’s head fell down into her hands. None of these religions seemed true in that sense. The dragon cult thought the dragons would come back, but would they? And the church of the sun. What did they think was going to save them all from the beasts? Nothing?
“... the second era really reminds us of all these contradictions. Who are the dragons and who is the mother? No one can really answer these things. But the one thing we do know is that it’s all about belief. I think you can believe in the mother or in the dragons. But maybe it’s foolish to put all your hope in eternal gods to come and rescue you.”
“Maybe we ourselves owe it to us and to these gods to pick up our own swords. Use the magic we have, no matter who gifted it to us, and fight the evil beyond the wall. This, I think, is what makes religion so fun. It’s history that’s alive, ever changing in the eye of the believer and always working its magic in each and everyone of us.”
Professor Monroe threw her silver cloak around her body and gave the class a theatrical bow. Some in the class clapped their hands, a bit tired and bored. Mel stared at Austin and he stared at her, still neutral in his expression. Like he just wanted to observe her reaction to this moment when Professor Monroe spelled out his beliefs to her.
The class walked out from the church, Gabs and Clara, linked by their arms and walking to the carriages awaiting them outside. Gabs threw a glance over her shoulder and caught Mel’s gaze.
“Are you riding back with us?” she asked.
Mel shook her head. She felt like walking. Austin stopped on the steps and Mel turned to him. He was darkness himself, shrouded in the midday sunlight, his hair even more black in the light.
“You want to walk together?” he asked.
“Sure,” Mel said.
Austin walked down the steps and passed Mel. He met a man standing outside a black carriage and exchanged a few words with him. The carriage rode away and the students of Falden were gone. All except Mel and Austin.
They walked through Aldrion in silence at first, just them and the quiet day. When they got down to town square, people filled the silence with haggling and gossiping. They walked past them too, up toward Falden and the Taveck mansion.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” Mel asked.
“What do you mean?” Austin asked.
“You’re a Taveck. A royal almost. The son of great people. Elemental warriors and founders of Aldrion. Your ancestor has a statue in the middle of town. Everyone knows who you are. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I said I was a Taveck. That day at the administration building when you eavesdropped. You heard me, I know you did. And then later when I introduced myself too. It’s not my fault you aren’t up to date with history.”
“Really?” Mel asked, rolling her eyes at Austin.
He sighed. “Okay, okay. I guess I didn’t tell you because I saw in your eyes that you didn’t know, and I kind of liked the idea of having one person in my life who didn’t know who my father was. Or my ancestors. It was nice, you know. To just be normal for a while. But I guess that’s over now. Queue the fainting and the blushed cheeks.”
Mel laughed. “Queue the what?”
“You know, like how people usually react around me,” Austin said.
“Ehm…no. Tell me.”
“Okay, so when we started school this semester,” Austin said. “Isabella, in our class, she asked me out like five times. And Meredith pretended to faint around me to see if I was going to catch her. And Flavio, well, he made some very inappropriate comments.”
Austin raised an eyebrow at Mel.
“Oh, wow,” she said. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“No, really, I’m not. It’s true. I just don’t like it when people treat me differently because of my last name.”
Mel laughed and shook her head at Austin.
She thought about it for a while and realized she could kind of understand that. She had, after all, been someone important in Windbrook too and Marcus didn't exactly hide his blushes around her. He liked her for her destiny, pretty close to having a famous last name, she assumed.
“Okay,” Mel said. “I guess I kind of understand. But what does your mother say about it? Or your siblings? Do they have it the same way?”
Austin averted his gaze from Mel and he seemed to think it over.
“I guess if I told people that I was in a relationship, things could ease up,” he said. “I know people who are in relationships and use them as a shield.”
“So why don’t you just tell people about your girlfriend, then?” Mel asked. “At least Isabella wouldn’t keep asking you out.”
Austin dragged his hand over his neck. He stopped and looked at the road leading to his mansion. He glanced over at Mel and gave her a thin-lipped smile.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I should. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to be that person and it’s not the time to call her my girlfriend. Things are sort of complicated.”
Last night, after the history lesson with Professor Monroe, Mel thought about the history of Aldrion. She thought about the royal line, Falden and about the Taveck line. She wondered why Austin had kept his importance from her, the importance of his family. His ancestor was sculpted riding a horse in the town square and everyone seemed to know who his family was around here.
These thoughts had piqued Mel’s interest about Aldrion and not only magic, but the people who had lived here and the people who lived here today. She wanted to know more, to fill the gaps in her knowledge and progress in her search for the truth about her dagger. Mel didn’t want to feel like she had yesterday, like the only one in her entire class who didn’t know the meaning of the name Taveck.
She had finally opened the book, A mage smith’s memoir, and started reading about a man who had lived in Aldrion during the start of the 12th century. His name was Alexander Etrope, and he had been born here.
So far, Mel had only read the first few chapters that seemed to describe mostly the perpetual darkness of Aldrion and the horror of growing up during wartime.
It wasn’t a pretty story and most of the time, Mel felt chilled to her bones. She didn’t know if it was because the book was written over a century ago or if the war had just been worse back then. But something in his text made her uneasy. How he portrayed the beasts as shadowy and fleeting like the wind and how he described the frequent attacks on Aldrion.
Mel had been living in Aldrion now for a couple of weeks and, so far, no attacks. She was starting to believe that maybe the rumors about the war were just lies. But something told her that wasn’t true. Something in Alexander’s memoir told her it would get worse.
It was early in the morning when Gabs rolled off her bed and thudded to the floor. Her usual wake up routine when they had to get up before Falden was bustling with students. She really wasn’t a morning person. Mel looked up from her book and her legs relaxed down onto her cover. She smiled at Gabs.
“Good morning.”
“Mmrmmr,” Mel heard from the lump on the floor.
“Yes, I know,” Mel said. “It’s early.”
She looked outside the window by her desk and saw the sun rising in the distance. Already tainted by the dark clouds surrounding Aldrion and the wastes, but a few streams of sunlight found their way through the misty substance. She put down the book and changed her clothes.
Gabs had gotten up from the floor by now and was squeezing into a dress, demanding Mel to lace up her back. Since servants weren't allowed at Falden, Gabs frequently used Mel as her professional dresser. She didn’t complain when Mel put a foot against the leg of Gabs’ bed and pulled at the two ends of the lace. Mel strained and tied a knot with the ends at the top of the back.
Gabs turned around and adjusted the chest piece. She blew away strands of hair from her face. Then continued threading another sort of dress over her body. This one, Mel had been taught, was the outer dress.
“Are you sure you don’t want to look nice today for the sun?” Gabs asked.
Mel shook her head. “Not even for the dragons.”
After Gabs had done her hair up and Mel had continued reading a few pages about Alexander’s childhood, they headed out from the dorms. They rode in several carriages with their classmates all the way to the church of the sun, up on the hill, close to the town hall on the north side of Aldrion.
Both Clara and Gabriella wore long dresses and frequently took quick shallow breaths, looking uncomfortable in their laced up chest pieces. Flavio and Brandon had their short puffy pants with silk and golden threads embroidered into the fabric. Mel had on her gray clothes today, warmer than her other, but not particularly fancy.
When she jumped out of Gabriella and Clara’s carriage by the church, she saw Austin standing outside, waiting for them to arrive. He had his eyes turned to the sky and his hands in his pockets. He wore a black shirt and pants, a navy blue cloak and on his chest gleamed a golden sun.
His hair was combed to one side, making him look older and more boring than usual. It was slick and glossy, like he had licked it with grease. He was a dark figure, hit with only occasional glimpses of sunlight, almost vanishing on the gray steps of the church.
Professor Monroe stepped up beside him and a long sliver cloak shimmered along her back. Mel joined them on the steps and the professor turned to the now gathered class.
“Today we will take part in living history,” the professor said. “I want you to listen to the people, watch their faces and see the belief as something worth recording in your mind. This experience is not one from a paper, it is one you create with all of your senses. I know most of you come here once a week, or more often than that. But this isn’t a normal day when you snooze off at Sunday sermon for an hour. This is a day to open your eyes, ears, and dare to touch beyond the superficial. Become part of history.”
The professor walked to the door, then quickly turned back and added. “Also, note that you have to stay quiet at all times when the priest is speaking and mind your place inside. Let’s head in before it starts.”
A frown spread across Mel’s face as Professor Monroe turned her back toward them and strode inside. She had no idea what to expect. She had never been inside any other religious building than the chapel in Windbrook. The chapel that was dedicated to the dragons.
Inside, the place was cold and stuffy. Great chandeliers hung in gold from the ceiling and up over the altar hung an ornamented sun. Mel’s steps could be heard throughout the church, so could everyone else's, and for a moment, that was all that was heard. Feet shuffling forward in a slow pace, reverent bows to the sun, and her hands felt only wooden benches and banisters.
Soon she was seated in the second row. There seemed to be no reserved seats for important families. In fact, Austin from the Taveck line sat on the fifth. He was looking down at his hands and his eyes were closed. Mel watched a priest enter the room, took his place up by the altar and spread his hands before him. There were other people than her classmates seated inside, nondescript people with reverent faces.
“I welcome you today,” the priest said. “Here in front of the sun, we are all equal. The mother doesn’t divide us up by class or position. She loves all. Sees all.”
Mel shifted, uncomfortable on the wooden bench. Uncomfortable with the message.
“It is the rise of her sunrays that we come here to celebrate today. For many, it can seem as just an ordinary time, a day like all the others. But for those of us connected to her presence, we can feel her love rising. Vanishing the darkness and the night, always fighting against evil for us. She gives us what we cannot give ourselves. She loves us when we cannot love ourselves. She is one with us. Therefore, we say to her;”
“Shine your light on us, grant us your loving presence, and lend us your strength to fight another day.”
The crowd murmured with the priest, “Osol.”
Mel looked around the church. What did that mean?
Light shone in through a round window, stained in red, orange, and yellow, in a mesmerizing pattern. It shone down onto the altar and hit a golden cup standing on a piece of white cloth.
“Come, children,” the priest said. “Let us take the mother’s embrace.”
Mel’s classmates stood up from their seats and formed a line in front of the altar. Mel was shoved into the line with gentle pushes and guidance. She didn’t like this. It felt like tiny bugs were crawling under her skin and she wanted to run out from here.
Her gaze searched her surroundings, trying to find a calm place to rest her eyes on. But everywhere were statues of people wearing clothes of silk, gold, and silver. Everywhere was the sun, like an all-seeing eye. Watching her. Loving her, seeing her.
Mel’s breath was quick, ragged, and her chest heaved. She felt someone pushing her forward and Mel’s vision blurred. Then she felt a hand against her back, between her shoulder blades, and she returned to the present. The line was moving forward; the priest handing a cup to professor Monroe, she took a sip of something inside. The mother.
“Osol,” the professor said, handing back the cup to the priest.
Mel felt a breath against her neck and then a tickle as her hair brushed away and someone whispered in her ear.
“You can get out of the line, Melissa,” Austin said. “You don’t have to take the mother’s embrace.”
Somehow it was already her turn and Mel felt her legs moving up toward the priest. He was standing above her, looking down. His lips were moving. But Mel didn’t know what he was saying. He handed her the cup.
Mel took it with both hands, wrapping her fingers around the golden outside. She stared down into blood. She swirled it around inside. The blood hit the walls of the cup, sloshed around like waves on a stormy sea. Mel pressed her lips against the cup's edge and inhaled. Spices and alcohol reached her nostrils.
She took a sip. Red liquid floated in her mouth and down her throat. The mother’s embrace. Her eyes shot up to the priest as he took the cup from her hands.
“Osol,” Mel said, and the priest nodded.
#
The church had emptied of the priest and the reverent visitors, only Mel’s class and Professor Monroe were left. The sun was no longer shining on top of the altar and the cup with the mother’s embrace was gone. But Mel could still feel it on her lips.
Her fingers traced the line of her mouth and when she looked at her hand, the tip of her index finger was stained with blood. It was such a powerful feeling, like nothing she’d felt before. She couldn’t explain it, how the mother felt inside of her. She just felt here now, in her veins, their blood mixed.
Austin kicked Mel’s leg, and she jumped in her seat, drawing the attention of both the class and Professor Monroe. Mel turned to Austin, sitting next to her on the wooden bench, and his eyes rolled. Professor Monroe and the class turned away from them, and Austin leaned into Mel’s ear.
“Stop touching your lips and looking dazed,” he said. “You need to keep up with what the professor is saying.”
Mel frowned, but looked back at Professor Monroe. She was giving a lecture, Mel realized, on the church of the sun and Mel was missing it. She planted her feet against the stone floor and focused harder, making out the words spilling out from Professor Monroe’s mouth.
“...Klas the third was actually the one who first recognized the church of the sun and changed his own beliefs to ours. Before that, the people of the valley had believed in the opposite, in fact. They had believed in a looming darkness, in magic and steel. Much like what the people of the wasteland still believe today.”
“Some think it’s why they haven't been killed by the beasts yet, others think they are being killed by the beasts but are just too stubborn to move inside the protection of the walls. It’s all speculation, though. There hasn't been anyone let into their culture and religion for centuries. Who can tell what the people of the wastes really worship or why they keep living out there beyond the wall.”
“I find it most fascinating, but that will be tomorrow's lecture. Today, let’s continue to focus on the church of the sun.”
“The king who changed the state religion was Gustaf the third, the last Gustaf we have had. He was said to hold such reverence for the sun and thought he would be accepted further into the mother’s embrace if he forced everyone to worship her. He got some backlash from this. Eventually he had to acknowledge the dragon cult and other minority religions, such as the people from the wastelands’ beliefs, as valid.”
“But he did tell the people of Stonehearth in one of his more popular speeches that even though the dragon cult was now a valid religion, only ignorant farmers would believe in such foolishness. This, however, I think Melissa can attest to, is not true.“
“Many people from the dragon cult have shown to be very competent and capable. And the dragon cult isn’t so different from the church of the sun as one might think. The dragons have an important part in the church of the sun, such as mythological creatures, that were said to have aided the mother in her fight.”
“Of course, the church of the sun still believes the mother to be real. And the dragons are more like her sunlight. A depiction of a scaly beast with dragon fire, to make people understand her light better. The real fanatics of the church of the sun even say it’s important to distinguish the battle of Cairn as a moment when the sun granted us strength beyond our belief and later gave us the dragon stones as a form of her light. In other words, the mother gave us magic to fight the beasts and we, some say, are therefore the dragons.”
Mel’s mouth gaped open and her head turned to Austin. He was looking at her with a neutral expression on his lips. Mel’s eyes felt beady, and she wanted Austin to tell her this wasn’t what he believed. He didn’t think he was a dragon, right?
Or that he was going to become one when he was done studying and granted the official title of an elemental warrior. But then again, did Mel really believe in flying scaly creatures that walked the earth? What had those first people of the valley discovered beyond Windbrook?
Flying scaly creatures or a sunlight God, granting magic. Both seemed equally preposterous.
Mel’s head fell down into her hands. None of these religions seemed true in that sense. The dragon cult thought the dragons would come back, but would they? And the church of the sun. What did they think was going to save them all from the beasts? Nothing?
“... the second era really reminds us of all these contradictions. Who are the dragons and who is the mother? No one can really answer these things. But the one thing we do know is that it’s all about belief. I think you can believe in the mother or in the dragons. But maybe it’s foolish to put all your hope in eternal gods to come and rescue you.”
“Maybe we ourselves owe it to us and to these gods to pick up our own swords. Use the magic we have, no matter who gifted it to us, and fight the evil beyond the wall. This, I think, is what makes religion so fun. It’s history that’s alive, ever changing in the eye of the believer and always working its magic in each and everyone of us.”
Professor Monroe threw her silver cloak around her body and gave the class a theatrical bow. Some in the class clapped their hands, a bit tired and bored. Mel stared at Austin and he stared at her, still neutral in his expression. Like he just wanted to observe her reaction to this moment when Professor Monroe spelled out his beliefs to her.
The class walked out from the church, Gabs and Clara, linked by their arms and walking to the carriages awaiting them outside. Gabs threw a glance over her shoulder and caught Mel’s gaze.
“Are you riding back with us?” she asked.
Mel shook her head. She felt like walking. Austin stopped on the steps and Mel turned to him. He was darkness himself, shrouded in the midday sunlight, his hair even more black in the light.
“You want to walk together?” he asked.
“Sure,” Mel said.
Austin walked down the steps and passed Mel. He met a man standing outside a black carriage and exchanged a few words with him. The carriage rode away and the students of Falden were gone. All except Mel and Austin.
They walked through Aldrion in silence at first, just them and the quiet day. When they got down to town square, people filled the silence with haggling and gossiping. They walked past them too, up toward Falden and the Taveck mansion.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” Mel asked.
“What do you mean?” Austin asked.
“You’re a Taveck. A royal almost. The son of great people. Elemental warriors and founders of Aldrion. Your ancestor has a statue in the middle of town. Everyone knows who you are. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I said I was a Taveck. That day at the administration building when you eavesdropped. You heard me, I know you did. And then later when I introduced myself too. It’s not my fault you aren’t up to date with history.”
“Really?” Mel asked, rolling her eyes at Austin.
He sighed. “Okay, okay. I guess I didn’t tell you because I saw in your eyes that you didn’t know, and I kind of liked the idea of having one person in my life who didn’t know who my father was. Or my ancestors. It was nice, you know. To just be normal for a while. But I guess that’s over now. Queue the fainting and the blushed cheeks.”
Mel laughed. “Queue the what?”
“You know, like how people usually react around me,” Austin said.
“Ehm…no. Tell me.”
“Okay, so when we started school this semester,” Austin said. “Isabella, in our class, she asked me out like five times. And Meredith pretended to faint around me to see if I was going to catch her. And Flavio, well, he made some very inappropriate comments.”
Austin raised an eyebrow at Mel.
“Oh, wow,” she said. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“No, really, I’m not. It’s true. I just don’t like it when people treat me differently because of my last name.”
Mel laughed and shook her head at Austin.
She thought about it for a while and realized she could kind of understand that. She had, after all, been someone important in Windbrook too and Marcus didn't exactly hide his blushes around her. He liked her for her destiny, pretty close to having a famous last name, she assumed.
“Okay,” Mel said. “I guess I kind of understand. But what does your mother say about it? Or your siblings? Do they have it the same way?”
Austin averted his gaze from Mel and he seemed to think it over.
“I guess if I told people that I was in a relationship, things could ease up,” he said. “I know people who are in relationships and use them as a shield.”
“So why don’t you just tell people about your girlfriend, then?” Mel asked. “At least Isabella wouldn’t keep asking you out.”
Austin dragged his hand over his neck. He stopped and looked at the road leading to his mansion. He glanced over at Mel and gave her a thin-lipped smile.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I should. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to be that person and it’s not the time to call her my girlfriend. Things are sort of complicated.”
