A Lovely Abyss

Synopsis:

Everybody is born with a mark on their wrist that decides their fate and essence of being. Fire, water, air, earth, void and agape. The six entities allotted to each individual at birth. While the first four are common, void and agape are rare to be found. That was not always the case but times gradually have changed it. Often killed at birth, voids are looked down on because of the negative and dangerous energy they wield. They are feared. Agapes are sought after, and captured by those who want to use their power of love to their benefit.

It is forbidden for voids and agapes to interact, make friends, marry, or fall in love. Nobody knows why but it is a law that has been widely known for as long as anyone can remember.

Now, the order that has prevailed in the kingdom of Demetrius for centuries suddenly gives way to chaos when the king is murdered in his sleep. Julian, the heir to the throne returns to his home after having spent most of his life overseas training. Things turn dark when news reaches Demetrius, that near the most holy caves of worship situated in the nook of the cliffs surrounding the kingdom, a man and a woman have been found dead. Both almost as if they peacefully fell asleep, except the maiden has been stabbed in the throat, and the young man’s hands have been burned as if struck by lightning. But the worst part is that the trail of blood leads to a place inside the caves that only few people knew the existence of. A place protected by the royalty since almost beginning of time.

Somewhere, within the walls of the palace, Areum, a simple archer in the royal army, and daughter of the queen's maid panics. She knows something that nobody else does.

As disorder raids every house in the once peaceful kingdom, people kill people, and someone tries to rip apart ancient scriptures in order to find the mystery of the dark caves, can she try to preserve that secret, protect herself and her family, and try not to fall in love with the boy with a dark gaze? Because a crown looming over his head might be only the surface of who he actually is.

Chapter 1:

Did I Sin?

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword.

-Oscar Wilde

Julian’s head was pounding. This is not what he expected he would have to come back to the next time he visited home after years. His heart ached to watched his mother in tears. They wouldn’t stop streaming down her face. The palace was arranging for the funeral, and being the heir, he was the one everyone looked to.

Your highness, what do we tell the people?

Your highness, the ministers are conspiring amongst themselves and there is unrest in the kingdom.

Your highness, the royal treasury is not matching accounts by about 5000 golden coins.

It went on and on and all Julian wanted to do was scream out that he didn’t care about any of it. His father had died, been murdered cold in his bed, and he needed to mourn. But people like him didn’t get what they needed. Ever since he had been born, he was reminded of this fact and now accepted it.

“Your highness,” the guard at the door called out, “the commanders of all sections are ready to see you now.”

There we go again.

As soon as news reached him and he came back to Demetrius, he knew the first place to begin picking back the pieces and putting the kingdom together was to ensure strict laws and implement army curfew for a few months. The only way to stop chaos was to put things at a standstill, no one knew that better than him. It was the reason he was meeting all the commanders and alike today to discuss matters.

----

The best resource a man had was to know what ticks people. It was something his father taught him. You might not always have the tools, but if you had the knowledge of who someone is, you could use that in your favour. Which is why Julian spent his time talking to all the army chiefs one by one, reading them, picking them apart, analysing which one she could trust and which ones he needed to keep an eye on, which ones served from the heart, which ones didn’t. Things he needed to know in order to maintain a successful execution of plans.

When he reached the archery arena to talk to the chief, he noticed someone practicing, arrow after arrow zipping in the air, none missing its target.

“Who is that?”, he asked the chief, not because he was impressed, but because he felt annoyed. The entire kingdom was grieving the loss of their king, but she looked unaffected. As if her art and skill was the only thing she worshipped, only thing she could see.

“Your highness, she is one of the best archers we have.”

“Why is she practicing? Is it not an occasion to grieve, and comfort?”, he asked eyes fixed on her.

“She is always practicing,” the chief sighed. “It is the only place you will find her.”

Julian stepped forward into the archery arena towards her leaving the chief behind. He walked in her range of shooting right before she pulled her arrow from her quiver, turned around, and aimed it straight at him.

He expected her to get startled but she stood there holding her ground, heavy breaths leaving her lips. “Who are you? And why are you trying to walking in way of my target? You could get hurt!” There was a tinge of frustration to her voice and it amused him.

“I am Julian.”

For a second she didn’t move, then realisation dawned on her face. Her eyes skimmed his royal attire, and her eyes showed that she recognized the name. Her stance changed as she lowered her bow. “I am sorry your highness,” she said with a small courtesy, eyes averting. It was a complete turn from the fierce warrior a few seconds ago, now she looked unsure, timid even.

“No, it is alright. What’s you element?” He said as he walked right behind her and took three arrows out, holding them forward. “It is air.”

“Makes sense. You seem as if you can speak to it during archery.” He looked at her. “Show me the best you can do with this.”

As Areum reached forward to take the arrows, their fingers brushed. Almost instantly Julian dropped the arrows as he felt something like needles go up his arms. He looked at her and saw that her brows were furrowed, concern etched on her face. He saw her deep brown worried eyes, tresses of hair framing her face, her pale face, long lashes, and lovely lips.

“Are you okay?” she spoke, “…your highness.”

“Yes I am.” Julian felt disoriented. He looked down to the fallen arrows and noticed that she was still looking at him with caring eyes. He felt vulnerable. And he hated feeling vulnerable, it was am all too familiar and unpleasant feeling he faced as a kid.

“Why aren’t you grieving the king, are you that cold that even this day doesn’t call for you to leave this barren place?” he suddenly lashed out in a distant tone.

He saw her flinch but she gained her composure and said in an even voice. “Not all grieving is visible, even if I were to cry rivers worth of tears, it would not be a validation of my pain. If I stay here all day with my bow and arrow, it is not necessarily a measure of my strength. But rather of my emotions.”

Julian was taken aback as he processed her words.

“I will take your leave now, your highness.” She said with another courtesy.

“Wait,” he spoke as she started to run around. “What is your name?”

“Areum.” It meant beauty, Julian recalled. And everything about her had been beautiful.

---

He looked at the unconscious body of his lover who he had stabbed. She, who was as gentle and flowy, like water which was her element. He could still feel her barely there, shallow breathing. He could also feel his warm teardrops that ran down his face. His hands shook. What was warmer was her blood. It was even warmer than fire to him. Fire, like the flames on his wrist. Now only blood was thre. All over his hands, all over the holy stone. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground. The stalactites and stalagmites all around him seemed to haunt him, mock him in a raucous melody.

But there was no time to waste now, he couldn’t turn back. He didn’t want to. He started to chant the spells just as he had read it in the ancient book. He didn’t stumble, and his voice didn’t shake. Though his body did.

There, near the natural stone altar inside the holy caves, as he held his lover’s body and whispered words which were not even known to exist to most alive; he felt a white hot pain go up his spine. It was like lightning.

And then everything turned black.

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