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It is perhaps a delusion of mine that I believe that even she has a heart beneath all of that brutality and deception, concealed by the evil she has chosen to indulge. I fear her, of course. Who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t mean I can’t love her. She is my sister. As much as I have hated her for what she did, and as much as I have despised the person she has become, I cannot rid myself of a feeling of tenderness for her, even if at times I have wished that I could just rip it from my heart.
Maybe it is good that I could never bring myself to. Maybe that is why she could never get herself to do to me what she had done to Cassandra and Helena. If that is the case, I suppose I should be grateful that I cannot look at another person and not find some reason to have love for them.
Love, however, can no longer protect me. Because it has been seven days since I was placed outside the Northern Gate, I am now completely subject to the Decree of Heritage. If the mountain patrols see me, and I am certain that they will be keeping an eye out for me, they will seize me and take me back to the city, where I will be executed. The seven days I have camped here just beyond the walls constitute the time I was granted to get beyond the reach of the patrols, but I prolonged my stay. I just couldn’t let go of Kalepo until I had
to, and so I have watched it from the mountains above the city before saying my last goodbye.
The people here are all I have ever known, nor is it taught that there are kingdoms or lands beyond the city walls. Kalepo could very well be the only city in the world, sitting alone on a plateau thousands of feet above the endless Ethereal Plains. These plains stretch into the distant horizon to the east, south, and west, wrapping around the mountains to the north of the city, the mountains I now view the city from. Perhaps the plains go on forever.
Rarely can any part of them be seen from the plateau. They are too far below the city and are always covered by mist and fog, hence the name. Only warriors and the king and queen ever get to see them up close, and that opportunity only comes during the festival. Because they are all sworn to secrecy, the penalty tied to that oath being death, the plains remain a mystery to the rest of the people, but that mystery will soon be unveiled to me thanks to something my father whispered on his deathbed.
“Come closer,” his strained voice called out to me.
I was already kneeling next to him, holding his hand as tears streamed down my face. I knew his passing would be soon, perhaps even just hours away, a complete shock considering that he had been healthy and full of life just a week before.
When
the illness first hit him, he fell into a deep sleep. In the days that followed, the strength seemed to leak from every measure of his being. His vibrant skin wrinkled, and his dark hair thinned and began to grey. Any fat or muscle on him faded to nothing, leaving him old and frail as though he’d aged a decade in no time at all. It was horrifying to witness.
By the time he awoke, even his voice was so dramatically crackled and aged that I couldn’t recognize it at first. A day later, his speech became faint to the point that I could hardly understand him without sitting directly by his side. As I leaned in close upon his request, however, I learned that this last symptom of his condition was just an act.
“My voice is not actually weak, and I do not need to whisper to speak,” he quietly but clearly said into my ear, which was inches from his lips, “but it is the only way that I can tell you things that she must not hear before I enter my final rest.”
With those words, I could feel the presence of my sister Mariam like a dark cloud around me as though she could hear my father’s whispers even though she stood at the foot of the bed. I did not want her there. Her presence felt like an intrusion on my final moments in my home with my father. I suspected that she was only there because she felt threatened by whatever he might tell me. Based on his first few words to me, she was right.
I pulled away from him just slightly to study his eyes. He smiled at me as though he had just said something loving, and I smiled back, realizing that it was extremely important that Mariam not suspect a thing. Whatever he was about to tell me, it was important enough for him to deceive her.
“I love you, too,” I affectionately replied, trying to really make our conversation appear as something that it wasn’t.
Then I leaned in to let him continue.
“To the north of the city several days is a lake. On the shores of that lake is an abandoned structure. Beneath its floorboards at the southeast corner is a box covered by loose dirt. Find it and open it. There will be a slip of paper, supplies, and a small animal-skin pouch. Do not open the pouch. You are to find a woman whose name is Eliana. She will explain everything to you that I cannot.
“The paper slip has directions on it that will take you to a hidden staircase on the western edges of the mountains. Make sure you are not followed. When you see it, you will notice that it goes down but not up. Do not be afraid to make the descent. The plains are dangerous, but there is safety there, too. You will understand when you get there.
“Kaela,” he then said, his voice becoming soft and emotional, “I will miss you the most.”
Everything he had told me up to that point was so astonishing that I’d almost forgotten he would be gone very soon. This heartfelt reminder of how close we always had been brought the emotions back like the rushing of mountain waters over the plateau cliffs.
I instantly started bawling, gently placing my hands around his tender frame and crying into his shoulder as my sorrow completely overtook me. My head pressed up against his cheeks as I squeezed him tighter and tighter, perhaps too strongly, though he never winced or groaned. He instead lifted and placed his arms weakly around me and kissed my cheek, continuing his words to me.
“You are strong and yet loving, just like your mother was. There may come moments when you doubt yourself, but you have many great things to accomplish. Leaving this city will not be the end of your life. It will be the time that your life finally begins. You are ready for it.”
After that, I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes, something I did often when I was younger. He placed one arm around me and let me be for a while. The peacefulness that followed was powerful, a feeling that I will not soon forget.
Eventually, Mariam interrupted us, and I was asked to leave. When I got back up, I held my father’s hand again and admired him as I stood tall and firm.
“Goodbye,” I said calmly, holding back my grief until I could be out of his sight.
My lips quivered as I spoke, but I wanted him to see me strong, like he said I was. Like he wanted and needed me to be. He believed that I could handle the task that he had just given me, and I wanted to show him that I would.
“Until we meet again,” he choked back, his feigned, crackling voice returning for the sake of Mariam.
As I now admire the beauty of the city and the plains beyond, I see his glow. These last seven days, I have seen the plateau in a way I never could have dreamed of. I wonder if even my father ever saw it from here. No one ventures beyond the Northern Wall except warrior patrols, which protect our water sources, quarries, and mines, but even they wouldn’t have a reason to come this high.
That is except to get me. Suddenly, a unit of warriors marches out of the Northern Gate. Instead of taking the river roadway that patrols normally tread each morning, they head my direction. They must know that I’m here.
I’m not surprised that I’ve been noticed even though I camped very high up. The spot I chose to stay is quite conspicuous, a ridge that juts out toward the city away from the mountain. I have not made it a point to keep myself hidden, having also surveyed forward into the mountains and determined the path I will take. They will require hours to climb up here, and by then, I will be far from their reach.
