04: Faces of the Past

   The ritual was due to take place in the observatory on the other side of the palace. Jeongri almost tripped on the hem of her dress, trying to keep up with her father. He hadn’t said a word the entire time, but she knew something was deeply wrong.

   Floor to ceiling windows lined the entire right side of the corridor. On a typical day, the sunlight would stream in, reflecting off the miniature chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling, casting a beautiful light across the mahogany wood floors. Unfortunately for Jeongri, the clear morning that she had enjoyed earlier had quickly turned to overcast leaving nothing but a wash of monochrome clouds painting the entire sky. Jeongri hurried quickly behind her father, but then something caught her eye. She froze, eyes wide open and stared agape at the scenes outside.

   A ferocious fire engulfed what use to be the western gate of Central, its flames across the marbled walls, acrid smoke billowing into the skies above. Hundreds of plumes of smoke dotted the inner city far and wide. Fear gripped her heart, she hadn’t seen scenes like this since before the treaty was signed.

   “Jeongri! We don’t have time for you to stand idly!” her father shouted. For the first time, she heard a twinge of panic in his voice. He marched over and grabbed her arm, pulling her away.

   “Father,” she couldn’t tear her sight from what was going on outside, “What’s happening? Are we… are we being attacked?”

   A loud explosion just outside the royal compound gates rocked the entire building. Jeongri screamed, clutching onto her father as her legs gave away. The chandeliers swayed violently, flickering on and off. They both cradled each other, shocked by the sight unfolding outside. The gates had been blown open, smoke billowed up revealing numerous crumpled bodies clad in their black and gold uniform lying in the streets. Unfamiliar soldiers in uniforms she didn’t recognise poured through the gate with some perched on the back of mythical beasts she had only seen in fantasy books. The sound of gunfire rippled through the air as these soldiers battled with the men in her father’s army.

   “Who are they?” she asked, pointing towards the unfamiliar soldiers. She could feel tears of fear brim at her eyes, “Are they…. Are they here to stop the ritual?”

   Overhead, an ethereal aurora coloured phoenix swept through the skies, screeching as it rained down a beam of ice and fire from its mouth. Another one of those unknown soldiers was perched on its back, guiding its attack over Central.

   “It is not your concern,” her father barked, yanking her away from the windows and back towards the observatory. Within moments, they were at the entrance doors. Two of her father’s heavily armed guards stood at the doorway, “Jeongri, I must leave you here. Are you ready?”

   Flustered, she wiped her eyes and bowed deeply, gulping back her fears. If people were here to stop her, she had to get herself together.

   For the family.

   For her freedom.

   “I’m sorry, father. I’m sorry,” she stammered, standing back up and finally looking him in the eyes, “I’m ready.

   For the first time that day, her father smiled, and suddenly Jeongri felt her heart calm. As much as he scared her, she still loved him. Whenever he smiled, which was rare, it magically washed away any doubt in her mind and made her feel like his little princess again. Because of that smile, all the anxieties she had about the battle outside slipped away, replaced by the mental preparation she would need for the monumental task ahead.

   They entered the observatory together, closing the heavy ornate doors behind them. Jeongri had heard tales of the old human prince spending hours in here, staring at the stars and galaxies beyond. Of course, nothing from those times remained. The space had been left disused for a decade now, but the decorators must have been around recently. The area had been cleared, the walls painted white. Intricate black carvings of scripture and symbols formed a ring around the upper dome of the ceiling surrounding a deep red glyph that had been painted in the middle, and a simple black and gold carpet lay in the centre of the room below it. It was there where she would stand and represent her families colours today.

   “My daughter,” her father turned to her and cupped his hand around her cheek. Those harsh lines on his face smoothed out into a rare kind expression, “I need to attend to the situation outside. I will leave guards outside this room should you need any assistance.”

   Unknowingly, she tightened her grip on her father’s sleeve, not wanting to let him go.

   “Once you start, you must not stop no matter what happens outside this room. You have to complete the ritual, the stars have only given us a small window to do this.”

   He smiled at her again. That was the second time