Princess of Astrazalinor Heir to the Crown, the blind one, the rebel fighter, the Ghost, and now the Runaway?
Please, just call me Calixa. The Sun knows my name is now common enough for people not to blink an eye at it.
Let me tell you one thing that will remain true no matter how long the planes last. Life in a castle will never cease to be boring. I am thankful that my parents encouraged me to pursue martial arts to defend myself, lest my soul should slowly fade into the depths of oblivion through sheer disinterest of each new rising sun. Fighting always changes, and its unexpected patterns are a stark contrast to my past 237 years of sitting still and looking pretty.
I find it ironic, to pursue looking pretty when I am wholly unaware of what that may look like. All I know is that it means ‘aesthetically favorable in the eyes of others’. As of now I am unsure whether I can think of anything more superficial. It does not matter to me if my future king believes I am pretty. I would much rather be someone with whom he feels safe.
But of course, that is always the man’s job, is it not?
It baffles me that people cannot see the beauty in things that one does not see. The way somebody speaks about their passions, the feeling of grass under bare feet, the warmth of the sun after a long winter. Gold is just a top layer, silver will one day tarnish.
And a future queen does not bloody her fists whilst fighting her trainer. Well, those who say that may sit back and watch me as I head to their plea and beat him with my quarterstaff instead.
A few years ago, on the eve of becoming an adult, I decided to spend my nights outside, in the city. Not simply in the favorable areas, either. Over the past 57 years I have become accustomed to the night life of The Shard – the rather unsavory quarter of Astrazalinor. The bars were my favorite, they always had the most interesting people. Of course, I steered clear from The Manticore’s Shadow… or so I said. The reputation it had to host a variety of cutthroats and brawlers captured my interest. The people who went to the Shadow did not go to get blind drunk, they went to prove themselves, while drunk enough to feel powerful.
Only going at night, I once tried visiting during the day. It did not take long for me to hear the bartenders talking about a ghost, a visitor they only ever saw in the city at night, as I returned, one phrase made everything clear to me. “The Ghost is back, drinks are on me.”
I made my way out of the tavern that night, seeking for a place people would not recognize me under any nickname. I soon found an inn, hearing voices talking about schemes. I found my way into the building, and everyone became silent. I had walked into a meeting of a guild – the Midnight Sun. It seemed as though they had information on a plot to assassinate me and were trying to dismantle those behind it.
Easy to say I found this entertaining.
I told them I worked for the castle, that I was one of those who trained alongside the princess. I told them I could get them information about my own progress.
Now, these men were obviously the ones behind the planned assassination. Their questions about the castle’s weak points and how many men were in my guard were enough to give their position away in an instant. Yet they asked me to join their ranks. To become a spy for the Midnight Sun.
Of course, I accepted, I am not an idiot.
As a member of the Midnight Sun, they gave me a mask to cover my eyes, and taught me to use my energy – the moon’s energy – to cause my enemy to recoil in more harm after I hit them. It was interesting that this was about the time that my trainer, Klewell, started teaching me how to harness the sun to heal people.
I guess some people find themselves in the position to deserve either or. It is an act of mercy to deliver either of these abilities to the right individual.
I ran away from the Midnight Sun the moment I realized that I had derailed them enough with falsehoods… and the moment they started questioning my origin.
I only ever told Klewell that I was leaving the castle. I told him that it was better if I was thought to be dead.
Maybe I should have told Ezra…
I suppose the funeral they held for me a month later was beautiful as well.
Of course I intend to go home someday, but for now, I am out to see the world. I want to know more about the Midnight Sun, their plans, and who they may be working with, or even for. A group of twelve men would not have been enough for their invasion plans.
And once I have answers to those questions, I will return home, convinced that I have done something else with my life than just be the pretty, blind heir.
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