CHAPTER 2
The cliffs rose as towering ramparts of bleached limestone that glinted dull crimson in the rising sun. They rose above the waving emerald sea, their jagged rocks catching the light as though they were winking and coming to life.
It was from the top of those cliffs, that Tlemismeria looked like a colourful speck against the dull, damp terrain of its plains.
This kingdom in the cliffs was a land of raging waves, hidden forests and serpentine rivers that emptied into the ever-hungry mouth of the Oto nars sletva – The great sea.
The palace stood at the head of Tlemismeria and protruded out into the emerald sea; the crown jewel of the starched cliffs.
Lys and his brother, Ezra had often escaped to the cliffs. It was the perfect break from the monotony of the palace life and the incessant political babble.
It was on top of those cliffs that Lys found himself in his dreams that night; and as he stared down the dizzying drop, he felt no fear.
When his father, the white king had ruled the kingdom, Lys and Ezra had often spent countless nights here. They would gaze at the star-lit skies while joking about all worldly affairs. The night was always made brighter by their laughter.
One reckless night, seeking an adrenaline rush, they had attempted to climb down.
Lys had escaped that ordeal relatively unscathed, but Ezra had not been so lucky. He had slid down twenty feet before he'd acquired a foothold. The palace guards had been summoned to pull up his bruised, battered body. His tunic, though looking worse for wear was only slightly streaked with crimson. His back however, told another tale.
Long gashes painted a broken mural of brambles all through.
Years later, those scars still hadn't faded. They had only darkened to a burgundy network of bruises.
The incident itself was rarely brought up and even then only by their sister, Aria. The siblings however often teased Ezra mercilessly about them. Aria had even fondly named them Ezra's rusvin brisca – his rose garden; the only garden he had ever been in.
***
Lys' eyes shot wide open and he sat up. It had been quite a while since he had thought of his dear brother who was out in the battlefield. The memory of Ezra brought a lump to his throat and he felt suddenly parched.
After he got a drink of water, Lys laid back down and closed his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep.
But it wasn't meant to last. The still silence of the night was shattered by a series of rapid knocks; pulling him from his reverie. Grumpily, he surveyed his surroundings.
Tossing on a robe, he wrenched the doors open. A mouse-haired pageboy stood at the threshold. His right hand was balled into a fist, ready to knock again and he held a crumpled parchment in his left.
A sheen of sweat coated the pageboy's skin which was deathly white in its pallor. His fingers twitched, body fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint down that damp, shadowed corridor; dragging the king alongside. Slipping into a shaky yet graceful bow, the page kept his eyes lowered, refusing to meet the king's stormy glare.
"Lady Aria demands your presence at the aviary immediately, my liege," he stuttered out.
Lys inhaled sharply and raised an eyebrow. His grey irises, now stormy were narrowed to a slit. He reached forward and grabbed the page boy's chin, lifting his face roughly upwards.
"What Did. You. Say?!" he asked in a voice of frozen steel.
The page backtracked promptly, his face further paling.
His feet were barely touching the floor. His Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed.
"Requested my lord. She requested his highness' presence at the aviary at his earliest convenience," he choked out.
The king flicked his fingers, dismissing the pageboy who scurried off on spindly legs.
He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up wildly in every which way. He huffed a breath in annoyance and stole a glance at Rhana, who had slept through all this with a pillow over his head.
The young king pulled the door shut behind him and walked quickly towards the aviary and for one bizarre moment, wished he had the page for company
Lys walked in to the aviary already speaking to the sister he was sure waited for him there -
"If it is Ezra and he has engaged in something foolish again, I will -
Aria?"
He looked around and in the far corner, the cloaked figure of a woman turned to face him.
She walked towards him in an unbalanced gait, carelessly. Her face was pinched and her eyes -as pearly as his own- were practically luminous.
Wordlessly, she held out the note to him.
As he read it, his world tilted.
Somehow, he was against the wall now. His sister held him close and as the note fluttered to the floor, its chilling message glittered under the moonlight.
Three words; no more.
"Sca rusvinz kvetlar", Ezra had written –
The roses have bloomed.
***
WORDS IN THE LANGUAGE OF THE CLIFFS:
Oto nars sletva - eye of the world
Rusvin Brisca - rose garden
Sca rusvinz kvetlar - the roses have bloomed
***
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