The Prince of Darkness who brought light

   I cannot see him very well, but from the way he advances, he seems determined. Crows fly behind them as if they are bringing the apocalypse. The sun above is pale. Everyone in the room rushes about. Penelope begins to tremble. I pat her shoulders.

“You have no reason to be frightened; you will see that nothing will happen.”

“But he is coming here. Who knows what he will do,” she says, looking at the queen in panic.

Alistair and the king go down immediately. I follow them.

“Rest, Your Highness. I will report everything to you. Penelope, stay with Her Highness.”

   The girl nods. I am the last person to leave the royal bedroom. I make sure my footsteps fade before I stop to eavesdrop. I am curious what they say in everyone’s absence. After a few moments, I hear the queen’s voice, but colder and more malevolent. Exactly what I was waiting for.

“That fool will ruin my plan. It was not the right moment to fake the illness. I had no idea he was coming here. Why the hell would he come exactly when I am trying to consolidate my power? Penelope, you are useless!”

   The girl begins to cry. Of course she is using her; of course she is her ally. The queen accused the Prince of Darkness of having cursed her after the king wedded her. Everyone thought the Prince's only talent was cursing, which, of course, is not true. I did not know what I would experience in the future, and I acted wrongly only to ensure Prince Alistair’s triumph. I helped accuse an innocent man.

   If the queen faked a crisis while Asterius is on his way, the truth will come out. Only the one who cast the curse can control how often the crises occur. Asterius is on his way, so that he couldn't have done it. In the Kingdom of Eclipse, to control when the curse manifests, you must have all the tools at hand and be in the room where you cast it. So it does not work.

   In the throne room, the king and the crown prince had gathered the entire court to witness the scandal that was about to unfold. They had no right to drive him from the palace. He could come whenever he had a matter to raise or was summoned. After all, he is part of the royal family —though he had been stripped of his right to inherit the power. The whole court was in a stir. No one had seen him visit the palace since last year’s winter solstice, everyone said. A soldier enters through the doors and announces the guest.

   The great doors swing open. The court falls silent. Alistair’s eyes widen—heavy footsteps and the clink of armour cut through the silence. A young man about twenty-five, accompanied by two generals, enters the throne room. I do not move, do not let any expression cross my face, but I feel as if I am turning to marble.

    His long, straight black hair flows around him like running water; his eyes, scarlet as dying embers, glint from beneath thick brows. He wears a black tunic with silver details, armoured with spiked shoulders, steel gloves, and metal-kneed boots. He looks like the leader of an unseen war, lost in the coldest night. He elegantly bows before the king.

“Your Majesty!” he says in a soft, deep voice. Everyone looks at one another, frozen. No one dares approach. His generals remain opposite the door.

“My son, welcome!”  The king smiles and opens his arms. He is the only one with glittery eyes in his presence.

“I am glad to see you well, Your Majesty.”

“What honour brings you here?”

“Does the queen not do me the honour of being present?” Murmurs.

“Mother is in bed, resting. She has just had another crisis because of your curse. You have come to darken our days, haven’t you? You have come to terrorise our subjects!” Alistair steps closer and looks at him with contempt. Asterius rises.

“That is precisely why I have come. I have proof that I did not cause the queen’s illness. Let my presence here illuminate your judgment.”

“Lies! You think that if you prove your innocence, you will regain your right to the throne. But we all know what you scheme in secret,” Alistair bursts out.

The king stops him. “I am listening to you, Asterius. Tell us, dear boy.”

   I don't think it is wise to intervene. Last time he could've cleared his name if I hadn't appeared and schemed everything so that he would be found guilty. Even now I remember his disappointed expression as he left the palace, and it pains me. It was the expression of a man who had fought with all his strength only to be wronged. And I threw his struggle into the garbage with stitched-together words and things that never happened, all to enhance Alistair’s image. My silence will save Asterius without making the prince lose faith in me. Surely this will change the future.

“First, I begin with the most obvious thing: the rules of curses in the Kingdom of Eclipse. The rules of magic state clearly that the one who casts a curse on someone can lift it or make it manifest only if he is present in the room where he cast it, with the necessary tools at hand—a crow’s skull, a glass of smoke, and a personal object. You said the queen recently had a crisis caused by this curse. At that time, I was on the way to the capital; my residence is far away, as you well know. How could I have done that if I was not at home? The treaty that forbids me from living in the palace clearly states that the queen was informed that I cast the curse from my residence.”

Everyone stood in thought. Alistair frowned, and I heard him grumbling. His eyes turned to stone. He could not act improperly; he had to restrain himself before the court. I gently touched his arm like an encouraging fiancée, a sign for him to hold back. He could not contradict that.

“And why did you wait so long to come and tell us this, now of all times?”

“Because, Your Majesty, I was on a journey, and I've found…” He signals towards one of the generals to approach. He holds a wooden box, opens it, and offers it to the king.

“No…” The king brings his hand to his chest. “How is this possible? I thought it was only a legend…”

Asterius signals to the general, and he shows everyone the contents of the box."It is not a legend, Your Majesty. Dear people," he turns to the courtiers, "I went on an arduous journey to the Hidden Realm alongside my best commanders" — the stir intensifies; they are gasping loudly, not knowing what to believe — "and I've found the Onorion. I have tested it. With it, we will learn the truth about what really happened five years ago." 

  Oh yes, the legend of the Onorion. The stone from the Sealed Realm that has existed since the founding of the kingdoms. It looks like a clear, transparent stone with a spearhead. That has brought me decapitation when Alistair made me confess I was not the real duke's daughter. I also remember I haven't let Asterius use the object; I took the stone, threw it, then I drove him away.

"If you do not believe he is the real one, you can test it among yourselves. The Onorion will be the judge. Someone asks a question, then the one being questioned touches the stone. If it emits light, it reflects the truth; if he lies, it will burn his skin."

Alistair steps forward. Let us see, brother, who will burn."

"With pleasure," he says, bowing.

"Briara, dear, you hold the box, in case it is some trick of the dark ones"

   A confrontation of light and darkness, very interesting, the first event that will change the future. I take it from the general's hands and walk between them. I look at the Onorion more closely. It is quite large, two palms tall, exactly as I remember it.

"I will question you first, brother, to see if your stone is truly what you claim it is. If it is not, you will be taken to prison for attempted royal fraud."

Asterius inclines his head and says with serenity, "I accept, Alistair."

"Good. Now that we have so many witnesses, tell me, dear brother, is it true that you use curses?"

All eyes turn to Asterius. I have never used such unworthy things."

Both are so close to me, and I feel their tension rise. He touches the stone. A wave of light envelops the entire room. Screams: "I cannot believe it," "it is real," "so he is innocent!"

"A well-staged trick, I must admit. Your turn."

"Do you love your subjects?"

"What kind of question is that, dark one? Of course I care for them, and they care for me. I am the Prince of Light; I am their guide in bad times." 

He touches it. The light flickers then stops.

"It seems your toy will not—"

The stone begins to smoke. His hand remains stuck to the Onorion as if on a grill. He wrenches it away, his palm red, with his skin falling off like burnt paper.

What have you done to me?"