Hello again!
Read chapter 1 here.
Lyion woke the next day fresh and cheerful. He leapt out of bed and got dressed, then went to the dining room to eat breakfast with his father. King Albert was a cunning ruler, successfully balancing allies and rivals to preserve Valmont’s status as a peaceful and scholarly nation in the land of Druwald. Under his rule, Valmont had grown powerful and influential. However, with his efforts concentrated towards improving the kingdom, King Albert had grown farther and farther away from his son. As Lyion traveled through his teenage years without a father, or mother for that matter, and nobody else to turn to, he had begun to slowly turn away from what his father had taught him.
The king inquired about his son’s plans for the day before casually asking about whom Lyion had spent so much time with the day before, taking particular note of Lyion’s reaction--and evasive response--to the question. Albert reminded his son to be at the ballroom, smiling at the distracted nod that was his only response.
Lyion left breakfast in a very good mood, which lasted until he gave into his curiosity and went outside to look for Myra. Then he stopped, stumped. How in the world did his father know that he had spent time with someone? And how was he supposed to find Myra?
Lyion sat down, groaning, on a rock. He must have said something. He really had to curb his mouth. Did the king know who Myra was?
“Looking for me?” A voice said. Lyion jumped up, terrified, and spun around.
“Myra?” He asked in amazement. Myra was right in front of him, smirking. “Will you stop sneaking up on me?!”
“I’m sorry Lyion, but you looked so sad sitting on that rock, so I decided to have some fun. I really am sorry.”
Lyion raised an eyebrow, confused at Myra’s behavior. Yesterday she was so serious!
Myra noticed his look and her smirk disappeared. “You noticed I was acting different pretty fast,” she said thoughtfully.
Lyion stared at her in utter disbelief. “What was that for?” he asked.
Myra’s eyebrow drifted up the tiniest bit. “Just for fun. A sort of test.”
“And did I pass your sort of test?” Lyion asked, his expression mimicking Myra’s.
“Yes.”
Lyion rolled his eyes. “What were you doing in my bedroom yesterday?” he asked abruptly.
Myra sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Like how you know my name?”
Myra studied him, amusement once again speckled across her face. “Yes.”
Lyion groaned. “Why won’t you tell me anything? I won’t tell anyone else, if you don’t want me to.”
“I’m not questioning that you can keep a secret, I’m wondering if you will,” she said.
Lyion looked at her in a why-wouldn’t-I-manner. Her mouth twitched up a little, although her expression still held...hesitation? Then the moment disappeared, and she spoke with no humor.
“Because you already know me.”
Lyion frowned. “No I do--”
“Lyion, you’ve known me for years,” Then she seemed to think of something. “And if you really want to know who I am, I’ll tell you. But I’m warning you, you won’t like it.” Lyion studied her for a long time, raking his eyes over her medium length black hair (in a ponytail again), her curious eyes, the way she hid what she was thinking (although he had a feeling she was still very amused by something).
Then, he finally spoke.
“Tell me.”
Myra’s eyes had a definite glint of approval.
“Well then, brace yourself, ‘cause you won’t like this.” She was suddenly more open, like Lyion had earned her respect.
Lyion closed his eyes, half not believing it could be so bad, half scared about who Myra really was.
“You would know me not as Myra, but as...hmm...what do you guys call me?” She sounded thoughtful. Then, “Ah yes, I believe you call me Kerri?”
Lyion’s eyes flew open, astonished. Myra couldn’t mean Kerri, could she? Kerri, who was a refuge from a distant planet (distant galaxy, they say), and had come to live here five, almost six, years ago? Kerri, who authorities had started to track almost two years ago? Lyion gaped at Myra. Look at the way she was tracking his reactions even now!
He started to back away, his face, although he did not know it, terrified. Kerri was a monster. She was...evil. She was horrible, vile, a monster…
Lyion’s scrambled thoughts began to spiral in another direction. Wait, but why (how?) would (could?) she be here? This was the palace for Ryrith’s tricks! Nobody could get in without inside help or others knowing. Was his father really behind this, trying to trick her into revealing something important? After all, the king wouldn’t let somebody dangerous near the heir to the kingdom, his heir!
And if she was actually dangerous? Well, she had very aptly demonstrated her speed and how she could out-react anything he could try the previous day.
Lyion suddenly paused. If this really was Kerri...well. His father, his old nurse, all the servants...nobody would tell him why she was being hunted. This irked him. Lyion was the crown prince, after all, and he was usually one of the first to know about things that had to do with the kingdom, especially important things.
Either in helplessness or curiosity (he wasn’t sure which), Lyion decided to play along, wondering if it was his father or Ke- uh, Myra who was running the show.
“I’m sorry Lyion.” The girl’s voice jolted him back to reality.
He shook his head, pretending to be in shock. “A-are you telling the truth?” he croaked. She nodded, but Lyion could see hints of suspicion in her expression. He had never been a good actor.
“Yes. I won’t pretend not to know why a lot of people don’t like me. But--” Myra studied Lyion for a moment before going on, Lyion trying to present a neutral facade. “Two years ago, your grandfather died, right?”
He nodded, somehow knowing that he would not like where this was leading.
“So, two years ago, your father was made king. And I was named a criminal after the coronation, along with a lot of others. So,” her voice became the tiniest bit gentler, “Your father was the one who made us criminals.” Lyion shook his head, about to speak. “And Lyion, you might not want to know this, but your father was the one who started the Great Massacre, and he knew it wasn’t needed, so he killed a lot of people for no reason.”
Lyion stared at her with his mouth open for a moment. “No, no, you’re lying,” he finally managed. “My father wasn’t, isn’t, a bad person. He’s the king, for Ryril’s tongue!” Lyion glared at Myra, who muttered something under her breath.
“I can prove it to you,” she continued, ignoring his snort. “Come with me.” She walked in the direction of where Lyion was pretty sure the village was, glancing back at him when he didn’t move. “Come on!”
Lyion stared after her in disbelief. The nerve of that girl! But, to his annoyance, he still followed her. He was going to kill whichever of his parents had passed on his curiosity. And anyway, no matter how bad a person Myra was, she could never put him in any real danger, at least as long as they were in public.
A few minutes later, they reached the village. Lyion glanced curiously at everything, as the last time he had been there had been a few years ago. He followed Myra to a building that stood out because of its large(er) size, and they walked inside. Lyion frowned as he realised it was a library. His confusion turned into sadness as Myra spoke to him.
“This is the biggest library in Brookwood.” Lyion silently compared it to the libraries in the palace, which were easily three or four times bigger, then followed Myra to the front desk. “Hi Lorie,” she said, and Lyion couldn’t help but notice that her tone was much more friendly than the one that she had used to speak to him. The woman behind the desk smiled at her.
“Hello Myra! Who is your friend?” Lorie glanced at Lyion.
“This is Peter. I wanted to show him something,” Myra answered smoothly.
“Well, what do you need today?”
“May I borrow the key to the back?” she asked politely. Lorie’s smile disappeared as she glanced quickly at Lyion.
“All right,” she said slowly, bending down to get something. When she straightened up, Lorie handed Myra a small, brass key. Lyion couldn’t help but notice that it was worn, and looked old.
“Thanks.” Lyion followed Myra as she led him to the very back of the library. She pulled out a small stone that was in the lower right part of the backwall, and Lyion saw that behind it was a simple keyhole. The key was inserted and turned, and then pulled on. A small door slowly opened, and Lyion stared wondrously into the lighted hallway behind it.
“What is this place?!” he asked in amazement.
“The villagers have been making and hiding books and documents that are kept secret for years now. This is where they keep them. You can’t tell anyone, okay? If the wrong people find out, most of these people will get in huge trouble.” Myra glanced at Lyion with a serious look on her face, only moving when he nodded, somewhat scared at her expression.
They walked down the long hallway, passing many doors, until they reached one the had some graffiti on it. Lyion raised an eyebrow, but walked inside.
“Don’t touch anything,” Myra cautioned, before she started skimming the titles in front of her. Lyion glanced around, noticing that this room seemed to be hated, as there was quite a lot of graffiti and mold everywhere. He also noticed, however, that the documents and books were very well kept. “Here.” Lyion started. Myra was holding out a folder, a faint smile on her face. “You can sit over there,” she said, pointing to a small cluster of stools. Lyion nodded, already opening the folder. When he was right next to one of the stools, he paused.
Then he reread something.
Then paused again.
Slowly, the meaning of what he was looking at entered his brain. He sat down heavily, shattered. In his hands were the records of the Great Massacre. And at the bottom was affixed a very familiar seal--that of the king.
