LEVORA APOLLA ARVENALDI
The doors to her chamber are pushed open by the two men standing guard, Queens Sentinel. They both wear a sigil made of a Wolf and Fae wings, these are Ivella’s protectors. I may not know why I am here, still, I want to be. Ever since the day that I read about Ivella in the morning papers I have craved to meet her. Now I have the chance to know her, and soon enough, she is supposedly going to be my sister.
Ivella sits at her vanity toying with her hair, immediately upon seeing me, she turns with a smile, urging me to come closer and the doors close behind me.
Her robe is a rich night blue and so simply I see her donned in our Vaigosian blue cloaks and dresses.
“Do you braid, Levora?” She asks as her hands rest on my shoulders.
“I do.”
“Would you like to braid mine for the Coronation? I cannot properly braid the back and I am growing displeased with how it is turning out and I now wish to find a cutthroat’s razor and shave my head.”
I laugh seeing how her curls are messy from fussing with her hair. “How would you like it braided?”
“I loved how you plaited your hair for solstice.” Her eyes brighten through her previous frustration. “Would you be able to style it as so?”
I touch her hair feeling the soft yet slightly coarse curls.
“Come sit down,” I urge her back to the satin bench at her vanity. “I think it will look beautiful given how long your hair is.”
Ivella smiles at me through the mirror. “I am nervous.” She speaks lowly, so low I nearly did not hear her. “I am speaking lowly because I do not want your brother to hear me.” She stops once more before carrying on. “He will come in here and then I will cry and look a mess for today.”
I smile. “He is good at eavesdropping, but I did not see him in his chamber as I arrived at the doors.”
“Good,” Ivella playfully grins. “I can speak freely then.”
I grab small pieces that frame her face and pin them at the back of her hair. “My brother and you know one another well?” I reference the last time we spoke at solstice.
Her eyes fall. “Laven has known me since my arrival in New Vaigon years ago. We were young, I believe he was seven and ten at the time.”
During the beginning of Lorsius claiming Vaigon.
“How old were you at the time?” I cautiously ask knowing well enough this topic of conversation treads heavily on trauma.
She struggles to speak. “I as well was seven and ten.”
“If you do not mind me asking,” Ivella turns to me. “Why was Lorsius such a hateful person? How could he allow the imprisonment of his nephew and chosen Heir.”
I exhale, hearing the story my father told me countless times as a tale but it was all truth. I sit on the bench next to her. “My uncle grew up differently. You see, we come from a family of white hair. Meaning–”
“You are Originals—Orviantes.”
“Yes,” though sometimes I do not ever feel like I am one. “Lorsius was the only son born with darker hair. It was always a mystery as to why since no one in our family has dark hair other than my mother who was a commoner and married into the family. Lorsius was treated differently by the people around him because we were a family of a pure bloodline, either we had mates or not. My grandfather did his best to live by his father and all those before him, but sometimes–”
“The pot boils over.” Ivella quietly interrupts.
I laugh. “Exactly. My grandmother laid with a man that was not my grandfather, but was her mate, she had one upon many secret visits with him and one day, there was a slip. And came Lorsius. My grandparents swore to never tell him why he looked as he did. And in this secrecy my father, who was the second eldest after the death of my aunt, my namesake, he promised to stop the purity of our bloodline because it was not fair that the truth was withheld from Lorsius.”
“He was not born with white in his hair at all? Not even like Laven.”
“No, not a single streak of white. Growing up my father did his best to protect Lorsius. He was his little brother but even through the love and protection my father gave him, Lorsius still grew hatred solely because he looked different from the rest. As well as the others high in society who looked down on Lorsius made him angry. He tried his best growing up to be a man like my father and grandfather, but, as you said. Sometimes the pot boils over, and that hatred never goes away. Then, after time, Lorsius found a mate and she was not an Orviante, she was a commoner.”
Ivella’s shoulders stiffen. “In those times commoner mates of an Orviante were slain to keep the bloodlines pure.” Even when there were complications with birth due to inbreeding, that never stopped the reigning royals from keeping things within the circle they saw fit for a crown let alone a Throne.
I smile softly. “She was taken from him before they could flee.
Their plan was revealed by someone who overheard their conversations, then it was revealed that she was pregnant, and not just pregnant but showing, and that made it all the worse. She was the only person who brought Lorsius his happiness given his circumstances. She made him feel needed in the world and it was taken away.”
“And Laven, the first, and Apolla stayed together. Why is that?”
I smile thinking of their gentle yet crazy love. “My father met my mother after this all transpired, and for my grandparents to avoid this happening again they pursued to have the law changed.”
Ivella’s head tilts. “That is why Lorsius would not allow my people to be mated. It was out of spite.”
“Deep spite.” I carry on. “Then, my parents were allowed to stay together and live the life Lorsius prayed for. And in this, he took Laven and made him his Heir and then me.”
“You poor children had nothing to do with his need for reign. Did Lorsius grow to hate Laven’s father as well?”
“He never said yes, but I feel that he did. I never knew my uncle as a good man, though I do not think he ever was. All I hope for people like him is that they are paying for their dues when they proceed to the afterlife. Lorsius took my brother as Heir and treated Laven the way the people wanted to treat Lorsius when he was born out of wedlock. That I will never forgive him for. My brother was happy, and free, and careless, and fun. He wanted all the riveting aspects of life.” Ivella gently places a hand upon mine as tears fall down my face. “Not only after imprisonment was Laven a drastically different person, but before then, when he was declared Heir, something in him altered to someone I did not know. Lorsius deserved to rot for what he did to Laven and your people. He did not deserve a quick death. Everything he did to the people around him should have been done to him.”
“Revenge is lovely, is it not?” Ivella weakly smiles.
“I think my brother and I are similar in that way. Sometimes, I wonder if the reason Laven killed all those men was for revenge, but he never said to anyone why he did what he did . . . the deliverance of twelve heads and three missing bodies without reason? You murder this way out of revenge and hatred.”
Never in Laven’s life did he have enemies nor did he seek out people to eradicate. This was out of sorts for the man who was so happily free.
Ivella pauses and her eyes drift. “Say that again. The deliverance.”
“The deliverance of twelve heads?”
She is captured in thought.
“Are you all right?”
“I–I never knew what it was that he did to the men.” Ivella forces a laugh. “He is creative in his killing, is he not?”
“He is.” I chuckle.
I stand to finish her hair and as I am doing so it is hard not to notice how distant she grows and how quiet she has become.
Then, by surprise she speaks again.
“He saved me and . . .” she swallows and looks up at me again through the mirror. “He saved me. That is a debt to be paid for eternity.”
“There is no debt to be paid,” I assure her.
Within her eyes I can see the deep-rooted love for my brother that she holds. Their love that I can feel was built on nothing less than trauma.
“Laven will want nothing from you other than knowing you are safe. That is another downfall of my brothers.”
“Constantly needing to be the hero.” She whispers.
“But who saves the hero?”
She seems afraid to speak, the hesitance grows, yet she continues. “Me.”
“Tell him that over and over until it is all he remembers.”
Ivella nods and a smile appears.
“Thank you,” I say. “For being there for him after the cremation of Lorsius.”
“He fell.” She says both literally and figuratively.
“And you caught him.”
Ivella hums. “I will catch him for the eternity of my life.”
“And he yours.”
* * *
When I find Phyv in the same place as before, the boys leave so I may speak with him alone as he very shyly requested.
“That took a while.” He begins.
I tilt my head as I see his angst. “What is wrong?”
“I think now is the time to speak with you about what I saw when I touched Ivella’s hand.”
“Phyv,” I heavily breathe and pinch the bridge of my nose as I sit next to him. “You pick the most opportune moments.”
“No,” he holds up a finger. “I have just now discovered how to explain what came to me in the vision.”
“And that is?”
“Her standing in the midst of all elements of the world and war raging around us. I believe she may be the key to winning the war, but if not controlled she could do more damage to those around her and herself if she does not have her powers in check.”
I knew Ivella held strength, but I did not think she held old strength. It has not been known for someone to possess powers of all elements since Old Voschantai. But this is only a vision, he could be wrong about this. All visions hold the opportunity to change as the future does.
“What elements, specifically?”
“Fire, water, earth, air, ice, lightning. All you can imagine.”
I nod. “I will speak to Laven, it is also time you spoke in depth with my family of your powers. You could learn a great deal about yourself and help others in the process.”
“The Coronation is beginning.” A guard says from the doors of the drawing room.
“Let us go and enjoy ourselves before we think too rashly.”
