Crack. Arlou’s vision swam across the blue walls as each slam of the sword’s hilt against his head warped enormous pain. It was perhaps warm blood trickling down his cheek when the pointed handle stopped and the blow to the chest came late. The High Adjunct’s rigid iron shoe hurled him across the carpeted floor, leaving the small sharp sting on his ribs as he gasped for air. The child prince's vision rested on the orange capes of his aunt’s colors. The guards had only stood there by the wall, their helmets shadowing their eyes in silent watch as its surrogate master bullied their prince into Shazak. Arlou did not dare call for help. The quiet and private torcher did only prayers for Enthah’s protection and unfortunately, his uncle despised noise. The High Adjunct’s last kick to his stomach finally clouded his mind and the gleam of the chuk coin stub on the soldiers’ armors were the last of Arlou's true vision before he went to sleep.

The mute darkness were the previous memories of her slumber before waking up to the babble of her aunt’s familiar voice. The hefty Lady Dasia stood amidst a swarm of Findeloria trained servants, pointing over Alve’s scattered papers, cabinets and taking them outside. Grandfather Dunder was also there, but was cornering her silent Urda by the balcony and it's broken lock. The feeling of abandonment rose to the princess’ chest and she inevitably surged from her bed

“Am I being sent away?” The servants stopped at their feet. Her aunt who was shaken from the chore at last looked at the princess with surprise. The lady's smile glowed.

“Oh. Yes. Yes you are,” the lady replied. Hearing this, Alve immediately burst into a cacophony of laments. The servants bustled out of the room while Grandfather Dunder sighed gravely. Her aunt was laughing emphatically before she came to Alve’s bedside and comforted her. “Oh, lovely little mouse,” her aunt caroused as she held Alve in a large embrace. “You will be leaving, but leaving with me.” Alve sniffed heavily and listened. “Your uncle and I have decided that you are to come and live near us. It took us long to notice the sheer loneliness up here, dear and we would like for you to have company.”

“Really?”

When the lady only nodded, the princess ruptured in full glee. She was now bouncing up and down her bed before a barrage of questions came fumbling out and about her head.

“Where would I stay?”

“Near our room.”

“What about my things?”

“We can bring them with us.”

“Could I see Savana and Savon too?”

“As many times as you’d like.”

“Can my brother come? Can he? Can he?” Lady Dasia’s face crumpled which in turn made Alve frown. “Can he not? Why can’t he?”

“The king wishes him near, and we can’t disobey your father’s orders,” her aunt explained sadly.

“But he can visit?”

“Yes, indeed.”

Although shortly remorseful, for the new company she will have was enough for the princess. It was certainly true that this side of the palace was lonely, but with her cousins and uncle just a knock away, she might be more blessed than she have ever been . When she had taken her breakfast and prepared for her Mistress Varvarahi’s lessons, Alve was however bewildered when her Urda was not leading her to her lesson room. Still in her hushed state, the maid had only bowed when she finished dressing her and had backed away. Her aunt, the Lady Dasia was again grinning.

“This day could not be more exciting for me dear, because we will be spending our first lesson together,” her aunt said while ignoring Alve's confused state.

Turning to face her aunt, Alve then asked, “But what of Mistress Oldotre? I would be reprimanded if I were late today.”

“Let’s just say Mistress Varvarahin is leaving for a very important assignment and she said I must be the one to take care of you now.”

“Assignment? What sort of assignment?”

“Goodness! We should not dawdle now dear, we will be late for our class schedule. C’mon!”

“But what kind of assignment?” The new Mistress Oldotre continued to abandon her questions as she was led out of her now colder room and to an unfamiliar passage, towards the outer walls of the palace. Her Urda, still mute, did not follow.

The mail steps following her as well were different. There were now four guards in their usual carrot colours, two each at the front and back of their small parade. While the hall they traversed was smaller at each turn of a corner, it was becoming cryptic. The walls were lighter of the color blue. The ceiling was shorter and the windows, slightly in different bow than the flat curves. But the carpet and curtains were still however brine. There was a tingling in Alve’s head as she observe the oddity of the gallery.

Without even taking her eyes away from the path they were taking, her aunt must have read her mind when she said, “this is an older part of the palace.”

“Old?”

“Of old, yes. Many years ago, before your grandfather, King Armoldeous Chonerin, claimed his seat as king of Cheron, palace Skahstrah was still under construction. This part of the palace were the firstly built before we entered into the deeper parts of the Tron Mountain. This hallway, my dear little mouse, is the Hall of the Ancestors, or house, home, you can name them unofficially.”

“Ancestors… then does that mean there are ghosts here too?”

The Lady Dasia was always joyful. Though the tightness of her bodice and arms looked constricting to her bigger size, and the amount of sculpted curly red hair atop of her head looked heavy, she seemed to not be privy any longer. The lady laughed. “If you have eth dear, you can.”

“But I don’t have eth.”

The lady bared her smile. Abandoning the small conversation and continued their journey down towards the illuminated Home of the Ancestors, they were passed a room of arched interiors and pillars. There were other passages by the sides and one of which came out a very beautiful woman. Whose hair was astonishingly white, and skin in fabulous spotted dark amidst ivory. But when she came to them in a courteous manner, out of nowhere, Alve's chest was suddenly flushed by a deep sense of sorrow.

Of the void, and of the deep

Of emptiness, and of nothing

“Tibey, you still haven't left?” Lady Dasia asked the pretty woman, a glint of anger in her tone.

“That I may greet the princess before I part Entherah, my lady.” The woman said as she immediately groveled to the floor in full lengths of her tattered clothes. Upfront, Alve could see the iron braces around her tragic arms. Already distressed to feel such emptiness from the woman, Alve froze and muffled her tears as the courtier started speaking in tongues.

“Guards! Take her down!” the Lady Dasia commanded, and the white woman cried in antithesis. Her aunt held Alve tightly, covering her eyes as two of the guards reached for the sheepish woman roughly. Still screaming in the foreign language, her cries were melting away as the guards dragged her to an unknown place. Alve was still sobbing for moments before she had finally gathered herself.

Under the cover of her aunt’s protection, she asked, “Who was that, Mistress?”

There was a long silence before the lady answered. “She was of the Satehk dear. Nothing to worry about.”

“Satehk?”

“Unlawful Fae Folk. Now, let us leave this hideous memory and to your new class room.”

Alve arrived to a very spacious room. A domed room. The dwelling had light-stone capped over bookshelves. Arranged in a circle, the shelves belt around a table at the middle where writing equipment and papers were already stacked in ready. Astonished, Alve turned towards the open arches that lead to the balcony. Although the room was refreshing, nothing was ever competing the vast outreach of the entire city. And with the reminder of the tears falling from her eyes, Alve could no longer recognize whether it was for the lady Satehk or for the spires and the beauty of Cheron.

“This was formerly Queen Laylic Novembron Chrovestera’s, quite the loveliest and queenly room possible,” her aunt said as she came near to the balusters where Alve stood. She was still entranced. Such size of the kingdom covered away from her... -and yet the Satehk’s unfamiliar tongue was still singing in her ear. She was not able to see the woman’s face as she had tried to comprehend the growing void.

The echoes of the unfamiliar however were overcome by the ditto of children's laughter from the other large coned shaped building in the west. Alve turned to that side, in which her aunt immediately answered her curious foray.

“That there is the Pillar-State School of Eth. When you will finally be able to read, write, and do court properly, we will be sending you there with your brother and cousins.”

“Ho... how?” she turned to her aunt.

“I brought you here so that you may find the desire to work harder in your lessons. And once we get you there by this winter under your Krakem, you will finally be free. Well? Are you willing to come work with me?”

The tolls of laughter hummed throughout the skull of the building. Alve could not make a finality of what was happening. It was too much for a child. It was too much for a princess.

The lady insisted again, “Shall we start?”