The Lighter That Shone Like A Star (Story of The South) (13 page)

Salmont had already proven itself to be a remarkable place full of wonder, and it had not taken long for Lornea to fall head-over-heels in love with her new home.

It was impossible to find even one similarity between Pipton and Ardem, the city in which Lornea now lived. For one thing, Ardem was incomprehensibly bigger than Pipton.

Lornea and her parents had moved into a rather boastful house in the suburbs but on their visit to the city’s centre, Lornea had found herself completely and utterly entranced in the buzzing atmosphere.

There were rows upon rows of shops, illuminated in dazzling glimmer and filled with people. Coffee shops and restaurants were perched on every corner, sheltering shoppers from the nippy breeze and gentle drizzle.

Salmontaïc people were vastly different from Hurburtans, too. The clothes they wore were somehow both eccentric and basic: women and men were dressed in loosely hanging gowns. Lornea would have thought they were wearing potato sacks if they hadn’t been decorated in bright sequins, colourful buttons, and shimmering glitter.

Salmontaïc people were said to live comfortably and extravagantly, and Lornea agreed that their clothes certainly reflected this.

Lornea’s new house was also much larger than her last. The garden resembled a small field and a river lay just outside of the fence at the bottom. It reminded her, with a jolt of regret, of a miniature Pipton.

When the Wardell family first arrived at their new home in the early hours of the morning, Lornea had walked straight through the front door and out of the back, down the garden and through the gate to the river. She sat on the green bank, her feet dangling in the icy water, and stared blankly into the night’s sky.

Suddenly alone, Lornea felt scared.
Scared of the carnage that she had left behind and scared of the future. On the journey from Pipton, her mother had told her that it was just as illogical to fear the future as it was to dwell on the past. Lornea did not understand this, as she thought it made perfect sense to fear the unknown, but she had not bothered to argue. Instead, she rested her head on the car window and pretended to fall asleep.

On the first day, Lornea detested the house with all her energy. She hated the enormous garden, she hated that there were three floors, and she especially hated her bedroom. Everything was too big and everything seemed so empty, which made her feel
even lonelier. But then the following day she had gone with her parents into Ardem, and she began to fall in love with Salmont.

When she arrived home later that afternoon, a girl was struggling with a bulging bin-bag in next-door’s garden. She was wearing a Light on the Landing tee-shirt.

Lornea was too shy to greet her new neighbour but later that evening, while she was sitting on the riverbank under the hazy moonlight, a quiet voice interrupted her busy thoughts.

“Hi,” her neighbour said. “I’m Ari.”

“Oh, hey. I’m Lornea.”

Ari joined Lornea on the damp grass, kicking off her red pumps and inhaling sharply as she plunged her feet into the ice-cold river.

“Have you lived here for very long?” asked Lornea.

“I’ve always lived here,” Ari replied. “But my best friend used to live in your house. She moved away a few weeks ago so it’s been kind of lonely around here.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Lornea did not know what to say. She almost felt guilty that her parents had bought Ari’s best friend’s house. In fact, if her parents had just stayed in Pipton then neither Lornea nor Ari would have been so miserable.

Lornea broke the thick silence by starting a conversation about her favourite topic: Light on the Landing.

The girls talked for over an hour about the five boys that had stolen their hearts. Ari was green with envy when Lornea revealed that she had met the band and spent a whole hour with them. When she said how each of the boys had subscribed to her Scribbler account, Ari almost cried.

The truth was, at that moment in time, Light on the Landing was the only thing that made Lornea happy and Ari felt the same. It sounded ridiculous when they said it out loud, especially seeing as Ari had never met the band, but they had provided a source of positivity through their music in the girls’ time of darkness.

The newly acquainted friends were interrupted from their deep conversation as Lornea’s ScribblePad pinged, alerting her of a new message.

Private Message from :

Hey Lornea, how’s it going? Settling down okay in the new house?

“Oh. My.
Life. You didn’t tell me you
private message
members of the
best band ever
!” Ari screamed at Lornea.

“Well…
Umm… Just Jimmie,” said Lornea, awkwardly.

“Just Jimmie?
Just
Jimmie!? Lornea you are killing me! I am so jealous! What are you going to reply?”

“Err… I dunno, I’ll think about it later in bed.”

“You mean you’re going to wait? You are actually going to wait until you are in bed to reply to him?”

“Well, yeah.”

“See, this is why this kind of thing would never happen to me. You’re sitting there all calm like “Yeah it’s no biggy, man” but I would be flailing about in a river of my own tears.”

Lornea laughed awkwardly, making a mental note that if Jimmie ever came to visit her, she would keep it a secret from her new friend.

Lornea’s new school was smaller than Pipton’s, because rather than accommodate children of all ages it was just for teenagers in their final two years of study. Stressed students filled the hallways, all preparing for the exam period.

The Hurburtan was particularly stressed as her final ever exams were only five weeks away and she had been extremely preoccupied. Revision had been the last thing on her mind, meaning she had a lot of catching up to do.

Unfortunately, Ari was incredibly studious and seemed to balance her double-life as a fangirl and a final-year school student surprisingly well. In one way, Lornea found great resolve in this; during their nightly chats down by the river, the girls would spend most the time going over revision notes.

However, Ari’s vast knowledge of every subject coupled with her confidence-verging-on-smugness caused Lornea to lay awake in bed feeling stressed and panicked.

Tiredness soon became Lornea’s main enemy. The colossal pressure that was growing day by day took its toll, and prevented her from sleeping. Revision and schoolwork crowded her mind, leaving not much room to think of much else.
Except Freddie. He had not contacted her since the Light on the Landing gig, which added to her mountain of worry.

She hoped that he was safe, but then that would mean that he was choosing to ignore her.
Which was worse?

Jimmie was complicating matters, still messaging Lornea. She replied less often with fewer words. Perhaps if he stopped contacting her, she would feel less guilty about Freddie and have one less thing to keep her mind racing in the early hours of each morning.

By the end of her first week in Salmont, Lornea felt like a different person. Constantly anxious and stressed, she snapped at her parents with everything they said. Ari grated on her, steadily becoming irksome and intolerable.

She had lost her appetite – skipping breakfast, throwing her packed lunches in the bin and managing only a few mouthfuls at dinner time. Jimmie’s messages were largely ignored and Freddie’s absence forgotten.

Lornea had time only for her upcoming exams. Whatever else was going on in her life, or in the lives of those she used to know, did not matter.

And then came the day that she turned off her ScribblePad. No more distractions, no more Jimmie, no more waiting for news. The one thing that kept her connected to the rest of The South, to her friends that she had left behind, lay useless in a desk drawer for weeks.

And she managed for a while, ignoring everything else in the world and focussing on her own problems. Until the inevitable day came when Lornea could not stay away any longer, an uncontrollable urge to see what was happening on Scribbler consuming her thoughts.

That was the day Lornea disappeared.

Max was sitting atop an elegant winged creature riding through the castle’s gates (quite literally – the gates remained firmly shut and yet they passed through the iron barrier as though it was not there) and down into the town.

The creature transporting Max was a Lumatus and it was as terrifying as it was beautiful. Every Lumatus’s horse-like body was covered from head to toe in bright azure feathers and the creatures had strong necks, slim, chiselled faces, the sharpest white teeth and gold hooves.

A glimmering golden horn protruded from the foreheads of female
Lumati, whereas the males intimidated with their impressive size; some were as much as twice the size as the average female.

A beautiful female Lumatus carried Max. He was stunned when Luc first gave him the beast as a gift. In all of Naegis, only two
Lumati had been tamed enough for riding. Luc was riding the second; a small male that was only slightly taller than Max’s.

The rest of Max’s entourage were riding black horses apart from Joz who was holding the reigns of a mesmerising, pure white horse with silver wings and tail.

Joz was leading the procession with two guards dropped back slightly either side of him. Luc and Max were riding together slightly behind, their brilliant blue beasts surrounded by countless black horses.

When they reached the other side of the iron gates, townspeople were standing along both sides of the cobbled road, waving and cheering to their
Clemaris, old and new, as they passed. Max and Joz waved gracefully, smiling back at their people.

Max had a sudden realisation that this must be similar to what Light on the Landing experience on a daily basis as they are herded around in cars, always surrounded by adoring fans. The thought made Max feel important and grateful and, well, famous.

He was a star and everyone had come to see him. It was his time to shine.

Further down the road they cantered, past hundreds of people
(fans?)
, wooden houses, tiny shops and alchemists, blacksmiths and carpenters. All boarded up, closed for good.

Eventually, when both of Max’s wrists were tired from waving, Joz’s horse stopped. The entourage behind him followed suit.

Max strained to peer around those in front of him to see why they had been brought to a standstill. All that he could see was a giant, grey rock, perhaps twelve feet tall, looming over the town’s empty square. It reminded him of the Stone Circle.

A guard assisted Joz off his winged stallion and handed him his mahogany stick, giving Luc and Max their cue to swing their legs over their
Lumati and land firmly on the ground. The pair met Joz in front of the stone, one either side of the elderly king, and the three joined hands.

Joz spoke, his voice somehow booming through the air, his words reaching everyone’s ears.

“Here stands Joz Domen, Clemari of Naegis.”

“Here stands Luc Domen, Witness to the Changing of Hands.”

“And here stands Max Myers, Rightful Clemari of Naegis and the Last Naegean.”

The stone casting a shadow over the three men began to glow as Joz continued the rehearsed ritual.

“We stand before you, The Fallen Star, on the dawn of a new Naegis. I, Joz Domen, have come to the end of my rule. I hereby offer my duties, powers, and title to my rightful heir, Max Myers.”

“I, Max Myers, accept the duties, powers, and title offered to me by Joz Domen.”

The stone glowed brighter and greener, causing all three men to squint. Words that Max did not understand appeared on the stone.

Joz released his hands from the others’ and stepped forward. He placed his left hand below the Naegean text, as if he was signing a contract. The old man stepped back, the light shifting from green to purple, shining brighter and illuminating the town square.

Max stepped forward next and placed his right hand next to Joz’s handprint. Purple changed to a deep red, the glow stretching further up into the clear evening’s sky.

Luc approached the rock and placed both his hands over the two existing hand prints.

The stone suddenly burst with every colour, light exploding through the skies and forming the biggest, brightest rainbow Max had ever seen.

Joz, Luc and Max reformed their line and looked up at the magnificent spectrum of every colour. One blow of a horn bellowed throughout the town and echoed through the East of Naegis. Everyone would now know that the times had changed. Max Myers, the humble teenager from Hurburt, was the New Clemari and Joz was to live his last days a free man.

The crowd burst into deafening applause, cheers and whoops filling the New Clemari’s ears. The stone ceased to glow but the rainbow remained radiant in the air. This time, Joz and Luc followed Max back to their convoy.

“Well, that went rather well I thought!” Joz chirped cheerfully in Max’s ear.

“Yes, I think so!” Max sang in reply. “But next time I think I’ll bring some sunglasses,” Max joked.

“Now for the good bit, I’m blind
and
starving!” Luc added.

“Same,” Max laughed, but as he sat on his Lumatus and looked over the people stood beneath him he had a horrible realisation: everybody looked gaunt, weak and unhealthy. These people really
were
starving.

Stomach-churning hunger rapidly transformed into heart-wrenching guilt. He did not notice that no children stood beneath him.

***

“Ladies and gentlemen, I greet you today in this hall as your Clemari. I have been in your magnificent land for only one day, but already I have fallen in love: In love with the skies and the clouds, in love with the grass and the trees, in love with the people, the animals, and the insects. I am infatuated, people of Naegis, with the wonders of our land.

Joz Domen, your Clemari for three centuries, is a wonderful man. He is the reason I am here. He is the reason I live. I express my infinite gratitude and admiration for the Old Clemari, and I hope that we can continue to work together and bring the magic back to Naegis.

I thank each and every one of you for being here. I thank you, and everyone whom you represent. Today, we all are one. There exists no hierarchy while you are within these walls. Clemari is my title, but my name is Max. Do not stand when I stand, do not bow when I look your way, and please,
please,
do not laugh at my jokes unless you find them truly funny – I am still haggling with a jester in an attempt to buy some decent jokes.

I leave you with these few words: We are all equal, even if we are odd.

To Naegis!”

***

Max was sitting on a grand, golden throne at the centre of a long horizontal table at the head of the hall. Luc and Joz were either side of him, with some familiar and some not-so-familiar faces filling the rest of the seats.

Hundreds of people had come from all over Eastern Naegis to join the New Clemari for his feast. During the event, each guest approached Max to offer him words of wisdom, shower him with gifts, and display their affection. Luc’s job was to tell Max who each of these people were.

Dessert was being served and so far Max had met wizards and witches, alchemists and professors, animen and manimals, elders and youngers, drifters and travellers. He had been given gifts that promised magic, wisdom and glee – all wrapped and invisible.

Luc had known everyone’s names, their parents’ names, and the town from which they had travelled.

Max’s head was already feeling clouded from the array of ales and fruity cyders that he had been encouraged to taste. Luc’s eyes struggled to focus and Joz had begun to snore.

The townsfolk who were at the far end of the hall were singing odes that Max had never heard before. Some of the higher people, those nearer to the Clemari’s table, shot disapproving looks in their direction, while others had joined in with their singing. Max thought it was wonderful.

The atmosphere was joyous and Max was grinning, the vision of unity through all of Naegis strong in his mind.

A warm hand on his shoulder shook Max away from his daydream.

“Clemari, are you enjoying your feast?” Giorgie asked.

“I am, but I wish people would stop calling me that,” said Max.

“You do not like your new title?”

“I like my name better,” he replied, not nastily.

“As you want, Max.”

Max smiled up at his councillor. Her accent was almost as mesmerising as her deep blue eyes.

“Giorgie, I’m bored of sitting here. Will you dance with me?” asked Max, getting to his feet.

“But your dessert is coming, and people are still waiting to see you,” she replied, glancing at a small queue of people that was forming.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Max resigned.

Luc looked at Max and shrugged, “Clemari, this is all for you. You may as well enjoy it.”

“Oh Luc, just call me Max will you!”

“I will, and I shall see you a little bit later,” his friend replied.

“Don’t you want to come with us?” asked Max. “I know you’re dying to bust a move”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I’m asking now.”

Luc smiled and stood to join Giorgie and Max, who quickly motioned to the rest of the hall to stay seated. Giorgie smiled at him and Max beamed back, thinking about the way Sofia first smiled at him in the History classroom and the way she bit her lip playfully. He missed her more with each passing second.

“So, where do you wish to dance?” asked Giorgie.

But Max did not give an answer; he had stopped listening. His eyes were fixed on the grand hall’s doors that had been thrown open, and then on the girl who stood on the threshold.

She was clutching her chest, struggling to breathe. Four guards hurried towards the gatecrasher.

“STOP!”
Max yelled, bringing his security and the rest of the hall to a sudden halt. “I know her.”

Max strode down from his table towards the breathless girl, his robe sweeping behind him.

“Anne-Alicia?”

“Oh, Max, I’m so sorry,” she replied through exasperated sobs.

“What’s happened?” asked Max, positively dreading the reply.

“It’s Matthew. They... He...” Anne-Alicia struggled, unable to say the words that would make it all real.

“No... Anne-Alicia, no, tell me he’s not...”

“He’s d-dead, Max. I’m so sorry.”

Max could feel the emotion rising through his body. He could feel the anger and the frustration, the devastation and the guilt. His friend was dead and somehow, undeniably, it was his fault.

He clenched his teeth, forced his eyes shut and managed to catch the tears in his throat; he had to hide his emotion at least until he was alone. Max turned to face his guards and guests.

“The feast is over. Everyone, go home. Guards, I will not be interrogating our new guest tonight. Search the grounds, search the castle. Make sure everyone inside is safe and that everyone gets home safely. Giorgie, take care of Anne-Alicia. Find her a room where she can rest. Request that Dorot Aponaria brings her some medicine to help her sleep undisturbed. Luc, come with me.”

There were mumbles of “Yes, Clemari.” around him while everyone did as they were bid by their new leader.

Max did not know why he had asked Luc to join him or how he had managed to hold himself together in the hall. He entered his room, sat on the edge of his bed and allowed himself to cry. Luc stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to say or do. He allowed his Clemari to cry for a few minutes before speaking.

“Clemari?”

“What, Luc?”

“Sofia... she’s alive.”

Max’s head shot up to face Luc, his face fixed with a confused expression.

“I’ve seen her,” Luc confessed. “I’ve seen them all, well except -”

“How?”
Max interrupted.

“I wasn’t meant to see, and my father would kill me if he knew, but I followed him this morning while you were sleeping. He went into a room and there were many screens on the walls. I know not what they show exactly, but it was as if your friends were staring straight into cameras. Well, Sofia, Russell, and Lornea at least. I did not see Freddie, Matthew or Anne-Alicia. There were other screens, but many were blank.” Luc explained.

“And were there any other people? Any other faces?”

“There were some more boys, or men. I did not recognise them. And there was another screen...” Luc hesitated, unsure if he should continue.

“What did it show, Luc?” demanded Max.

“It showed you.”

“
Me
?” He asked.

“Yes. I found it most peculiar.”

Max sprung to his feet, scanning his room for a camera, but neither he nor Luc could see anything that could be projecting an image of his face. All Max knew was that Joz was secretly watching him and his friends.