Guinevere felt immediately at ease when she set foot in the Quarter of Order. Though it was the deepest part of night, and the grand promenade was empty and silent, the sight of the cathedrals for each of the major Knightly Orders lifted her spirits. Ars Lirica, the tallest of all, straight ahead down the center. And Ars Umbra, dark and yet beautiful, off to the left. Those had always stood out most in Guinevere’s mind, and they captured her attention most now.
Ars Lirica was the headquarters of the Knights Lirica, which was the Prime Order, the largest, most highly-trained, and most versatile Knightly Order in the realms. It housed branch offices for all of the other Knightly Orders as well, for the Order of Lirica was the origin of the Knights, the foundation from which all other Orders sprang. To be a Knight Lirica was a great honor. To be a Knight-Commander in their Order, like Elliot, was truly a great feat, worthy of highest praise. Guinevere had often wished that the Knights Lirica served as her bodyguards, rather than the well-meaning but complacent and unchallenged Knights of the Promise.
And she’d imagined, many times, how different his fate might have been if Artorius had been protected at the Wonderian compound by Knights Lirica, rather than Knights of the Promise. Would his parents still be alive? Would he have never gone off on his own, vanishing into the world, letting everyone believe he was dead?
Guinevere shook her head, banishing those wistful thoughts. Dreaming of what-ifs would do nothing for the here and now.
Meanwhile, the Knights Aurora had always fascinated Guinevere. They found their origins in the Valkyries, valiant saints from the Era of Shadow, who had brought light back into the world when they’d vanquished the Nocturne Lords. An Order entirely of women, in honor of the Valkyries, they were, Guinevere had to admit, the obvious choice for her if Artorius’ nonsensical imaginings about them not being the Promised King and Promised Queen were true.
But I am the Promised Queen. And I would have it no other way.
Though I am grateful that my best friend is a Knight Aurora. I’ve learned so much from her, and she sets a marvelous example to try and live up to.
Especially now that Guinevere had had the honor of seeing her in action. Like a shooting star launched from the heavens down to earth, she’d made an immediate, dazzling impression that would never leave her mind.
“Well, I’ll go see if Florina and Kent have reported in,” Elliot said, starting off with Ninian and Hector.
“Are you really going to be able to find anything out in the middle of the night?” Alice asked.
Elliot chuckled. “Captain Whitley’s a night owl,” he said. “And an obsessive organizational savant. If my cohort has found anything, he’ll know right away. And I’m sure they’ve had something to report by now. Probably not much, but it’ll give me an idea of how they’re doing.”
“We’ll meet here afterwards,” Tobias said.
And with that, Rosalie led the remainder — Guinevere, Ava, Alice, Tobias, Flynn, Sheena, and Akko — to the left, towards Ars Umbra. The moonlight was sparse tonight, with clouds often drifting in its way, but a silver beam shot across the sky just then, illuminating the high steeple in a beautiful, otherworldly glow.
The last time Guinevere had come here, she’d entered through a side door, sneaking in with Rosalie’s help. This time, Rosalie took their group straight through the ornate main door. In the grand narthex, a pair of Knights Aurora stood vigil. They were around Guinevere and Rosalie’s age, and saluted Rosalie immediately. Upon sighting Tobias, the one on the left immediately narrowed her eyes, while the one on the right turned her attention on Rosalie. “Good evening, Captain,” she said in a swift, professional manner. “I see you come bringing guests. What is the official explanation for the male visitor?”
“He is a valuable informant in an ongoing case,” Rosalie said. “He will remain in my company, as will the rest of my guests, until our business here is concluded. When we are finished, I will personally escort him and the rest of my guests out.”
“Very well,” said the Knight. She opened a ledger and began to write in it. The other Knight continued to glare suspiciously at Tobias, saying nothing. But after a moment, her eyes were drawn downwards by a fluffy tail wagging back and forth. And her glare landed on Flynn, who was happily gazing up at her.
The stare-down continued for several moments, the Knight’s glare not abating. Flynn continued to wag away, his mouth slightly open, looking like the friendliest, happiest dog in the world.
And then, slowly, a transformation came over the glaring Knight. Her gaze softened. Her rigid posture relaxed. She even started to smile. Then she glanced at Tobias, and she glared — for a moment. She looked back at Flynn, and the glare vanished. Then she promptly cleared her throat and turned on her heel, clasping her hands behind her back and fixing her attention on the Order of Aurora’s coat of arms hanging on the wall.
The more amiable Knight finished writing, closed the ledger, and bowed courteously to the group. “Welcome back, Captain Grants and guests,” she said. “Please respect these hallowed halls.”
Rosalie led them to the left, taking a side door that opened into a corridor leading around the cathedral proper, towards a set of stairs descending to the offices of the Nocturne Special Investigations Unit. Two offices to the left, and two offices to the right, stood closed, their windows dark. But the office straight ahead, belonging to Rosalie, had its door slightly ajar, warm light seeping through the crack. Rosalie paused outside the door, hands on her hips. She gave a little sigh, then pushed open the door.
“Again, Yuri?” she asked.
On the far side of the office, sitting relaxedly in a chair, was a petite Knight with fair skin, sleepy amber eyes, and honey-blonde hair that rested in slightly messy shoulder-length curls. In her hand was a wooden skewer, on which were skewered three round dumplings coated in a glistening caramel-colored syrup. There had presumably been four dumplings, as there was extra space at the top of skewer, and the Knight was chewing something.
“Oh, Rosie,” the Knight said between bites. She waved with her skewer. “Yo.”
Rosalie sighed. “I have guests,” she said. “Can’t you at least be a touch respectable?”
The Knight waved to the others with her dumpling-skewer. “First Lieutenant Yuri Korsakov, of the Nocturne Special Investigations Unit,” she said. “Nice to meet you all.” She then bit the next dumpling off of the skewer and started chewing it.
“She’s my second-in-command,” Rosalie said. “When she behaves herself.”
Yuri shrugged. “You’re the one who appointed me,” she said. Guinevere wondered why Yuri only ever gestured with the skewer, until she realized that her free hand wasn’t just resting in her lap. It was petting something in her lap: a black cat, curled up in a cute little ball. A white star on the cat’s forehead stood out between closed, slumbering eyes.
“So,” Rosalie said, turning her disapproval onto the cat. “You finally come back when Yuri shows up, hmm, Moira?”
“We’re buddies,” said Yuri. She finished her second dumpling, and then stopped petting the cat just long enough to pick up a steaming cup of tea from the desk and take a sip. She put the cup back down, and went right back to petting Moira.
“Yuri,” Rosalie said, her voice stern. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on patrol with Tessa.”
Yuri waved her dumpling skewer. “I had a dango craving,” she said. As if that was the most sensible answer in the world.
“Well hello, little kitty,” Alice said, happily striding up to greet the black cat in Yuri’s lap. “Moira, was it? Oh, and you’re so soft!” She petted Moira, and Moira raised her head, yawned hugely (but quietly), and then rested her head back down, eyes still closed.
“She’s Rosie’s,” Yuri said. “Technically. But I think she likes me better.”
“You’re kindred spirits,” Rosalie said. “Yuri, we have important matters to discuss.”
“ ’Course you do,” Yuri said, nodding at Guinevere. “You’ve got the Promised Queen with you.”
“I —” Guinevere started, then sighed. “Does everyone recognize me, even when I’m dressed down?”
“Yuri’s very talented,” Rosalie said, as if that explained everything.
“Go ahead and discuss,” Yuri said, waving her skewer vaguely. “Don’t mind me.”
Rosalie sighed. “Do I ever?” she muttered. She sat down at her desk. “I’m sorry I don’t have more chairs. But we won’t be here too long, I don’t think. Though Guin, I think you should see these.” She picked up a few newspapers and handed them to her.
Guinevere didn’t have to ask what she was looking for. On each of them, right on the front page, were plastered different photographs of Guinevere in full royal dress, with a variety of headlines, all along the same theme:
“Anti-Promise League Claims to Have Abducted the Promised Queen!”
“Promised Queen Abducted?”
“Anti-Promise League Demands Hefty Ransom”
“The Arguments For and Against the League’s Claims of Kidnapping”
“Teddy mentioned that there was talk I’d been kidnapped,” Guinevere said, her stomach churning. “What’s this ‘Anti-Promise League’? What a ridiculous name. Don’t tell me people are buying their story!”
“They’re a bunch of charlatans,” Yuri said, rolling her eyes.
“They’ve been around as a small group for almost a century,” Rosalie said. “It’s only since you and the Promised King were born that they started to gain more members and attention. Even so, they were never really taken seriously. People want the Promise to be fulfilled, after all. And, well, the name certainly doesn’t help their case. They must have realized that no one was taking them seriously, so when word got out that you’d disappeared, they tried to take the credit.”
“Don’t tell me…” Guinevere started, her heart sinking. She showed Rosalie the paper that mentioned a ransom in the headline.
Rosalie gave her a sympathetic look. “Your parents were fully prepared to pay any ransom the League asked of them,” she said. “Captain Tycho started talking them down, and I helped as well. It… took a fair bit of convincing, I won’t lie. But they did eventually relent. They won’t give in to the League’s demands.”
“They truly believed I was kidnapped?” Guinevere asked.
“They did,” Rosalie said. “And right now, well… they’re tentatively trusting our judgment on the matter. I could have admitted to helping you escape, but so far, that hasn’t proved necessary.”
“I… suppose I should go home at some point, then,” Guinevere said hesitantly. That was the last thing she wanted. But if her parents weren’t fully convinced, even with Rosalie’s personal account of Guinevere’s actions…
Mother. Father. Why are you like this?
“But before all that,” Alice said brightly, as if she couldn’t read the mood of the room. Typical. “Let’s figure out this lighthouse business.”
“Lighthouse?” Yuri asked.
And so Tobias, Guinevere, Alice, and Sheena explained what had brought them here. Not just a brief account of their purpose, no — the entire tale, from Guinevere’s arrival in Wonderia to her return to Ars Moran, and all the events that had transpired during her journey. By the end of it, Yuri had eaten the other two dangos on her skewer… and started on a second skewer of four. Where had she been hiding it?
“Well,” Rosalie said, with a small smile, “you wanted an adventure.”
“Yes,” Guinevere said, with a little chuckle. “And it’s not over yet.”
“Clearly not,” Rosalie said. She opened a drawer and pulled out a large cloth map that she unrolled across her desk. She didn’t need to move anything to make space — Rosalie kept things neat and tidy, always. “Here’s a map of Ars Umbra’s Undercroft. It’s a whole webwork of catacombs, memorials, service tunnels, and the old training complex. I’ve spent a great deal of time down there, and I’ve never found anything even reminiscent of a lighthouse. It’s certainly evocative, isn’t it? Hiding a lighthouse underground seems rather counterproductive, though.”
“It’s to guide people back to the surface, of course,” Alice said.
“If it was established to guide people to Elysia,” Tobias said, “then it was probably built before the Fracturing. It would have been on the surface once, long ago.”
“So where would it be…?” Rosalie murmured, surveying the map. “And how did Maestro Brahe find it, and why wouldn’t she mention it to us?”
“Do you recall her being her before?” Sheena asked.
“Oh, she’s visited several times,” Rosalie said, nodding. “Fascinating woman. A bit… odd.”
“Who isn’t a bit odd?” Alice asked.
“True enough,” Rosalie said, smiling. “She always kept her cards close to her chest. Though that’s no surprise, considering how she conducts herself in the scientific community.” She looked up at Tobias, eyeing him thoughtfully. “Why would she come here, make a discovery, not tell the Knights who take up residence here, but share her findings with you?”
“Tobias makes a lot of friends,” Alice said, beaming.
“I had requested her aid once in my search for Elysia,” Tobias said. “She didn’t have many clues at the time, and I thought that would be the end of it. But then a few years later, out of the blue, she sent me her notes regarding the ship she’d found, and the Intersection, and the lighthouse.”
“Everybody loves a good eccentric,” Yuri said, finishing her third dango on the second skewer.
“If I were an underground lighthouse, where would I be?” Rosalie asked. She ran her hands over the map, as if she could physically draw forth its secrets. “There are places that have been unmapped, of course. But those are collapsed tunnels, sections that we can’t physically explore.”
“Third quadrant,” Yuri said, biting off her final dango. “Fourteenth aisle. Captain Francine Voltaire. She’s always got something interesting to say. And don’t mind the spiders. They’re friendly.”
Everyone stared at her. She chewed on her dango, and petted Moira. Silence filled the office for several long seconds.
“Yuri?” Rosalie asked. “What…?”
“Spiders?” Guinevere asked, shivering.
“Well, my break’s over,” Yuri said. She scooped up Moira in her arms, stood, and gently deposited the black cat on Rosalie’s desk. Moira paced to the center of the map, stretched, and then curled up right there. “Captain.” Yuri saluted in a very casual manner, tossed her dango skewers into a waste basket, and retrieved her officer’s cap from a side table, plopping it on her head. “We won’t take down the Class Five tonight. But soon.” She shrugged. “I’d better make sure Ilia doesn’t drive Tessa crazy. Well,” she gave a small wave to the group, “see ya.”
And with that, she wandered out of the office.
“Um,” Guinevere said eloquently.
“She’s fun,” Alice said, smiling. “Do you think we’ll see her again?”
“Who can ever say?” Rosalie asked with a tired sigh. “Yuri is… well. She’s certainly unique. But aren’t we all?” She stroked Moira’s back, her eyes drifting to the map again. “Third quadrant… Captain Voltaire…”
Then, abruptly, she stood up. “Let’s go see what she was talking about,” she said.
“You think she knows where the lighthouse is?” Guinevere asked. “But why wouldn’t she say outright?”
“That’s who she is,” Rosalie said. “How she knows about it when the rest of us don’t… well, actually, I suppose that’s no surprise. She does like to wander where others fear to tread. Come on. Let’s see if her clue pays off.”
“Friendly spiders?” Alice asked.
“It’s an odd comment,” Rosalie said. “There are no spiders in the Undercroft. Unless they’re somewhere we haven’t been before.”
There was only one way to find out: to investigate the Undercroft themselves. Rosalie retrieved an ornate ring of big, old, elegant keys, and then led the way out of her office. Down winding corridors and ancient, winding stairs they went, a route reminiscent of the one that had taken Guinevere to her door to Wonderia when she’d last been here. If Rosalie wasn’t their guide, they’d all be lost. She’d spoken of the Undercroft as a maze, but really, Ars Umbra as a whole was quite the maze, when one went beyond the space of worship or the offices of Knights.
After a little while, they started down a stairway that instantly set Guinevere’s teeth on edge. There was a chill in the air, and a faint resonance, like the distant scraping of nails on a chalkboard. Down the stairs they went, and though it was a long descent to then emerge into a subterranean chamber that branched off into numerous tunnels, the resonance didn’t grow louder. It remained faint, distant, just barely present.
But present nonetheless. And it made Guinevere feel very ill at ease.
Down here, the ceilings were low, low enough that Guinevere could have reached up and planted her palm flat against the ceiling without fully extending her arm. Tobias only had a few inches of clearance overhead, but he didn’t seem bothered by the tight spaces.
Guinevere, on the other hand, relished the closeness of Ava. Without her sweet dog’s constant comfort, she might already be turning around to leave. To be so closed in, with only dim crystal lamps to light the way, surrounded by stonework with no windows, no sign of the outdoors, no clear means of a quick escape…
It was a living nightmare.
And then came the skulls.
After two long stretches of mostly bare stone walls, they turned a corner, and Guinevere gasped. The walls here were lined with skulls, set on shelves as if on display, their dry, hollow faces staring at the Undercroft’s latest visitors, their empty eye sockets seeming to watch their every move.
“What…?” Guinevere started. “Why?”
“The Corridor of Observance,” Rosalie said. “These are the heads of the Watchers, an ancient order within Aurora. They were sworn to watch the world, to observe the early days after the Fracturing, and judge those who sought to ruin the peace people were attempting to achieve. When their work was done, the last members of the order swore they would be the last, but that even in death, they would continue to observe. ‘Our eyes shall ever watch the healing world. Even in death, our swords shall be swift to execute the wicked.’ Such were the words of the order’s final leader, in his last days.”
“So why keep them down here, if they need to watch the world?” Alice asked. Undeterred by the macabre, she was looking each of the skulls right in the eye, watching cheerily for signs of life.
“This was where they requested to be laid,” Rosalie said. “No one knows why. But this passage takes us to the catacombs.”
“What on earth is a Captain doing down here?” Guinevere asked.
Rosalie glanced back at her. There was something in her eyes, but Guinevere couldn’t read it. “What?” Guinevere asked.
“We’re almost there,” Rosalie said. There was something ominous in how she said it, and a shiver crawled up Guinevere’s spine.
The Corridor of Observance ended, and they found themselves in a circular chamber that branched off in five new corridors. Each of these had a plaque over the entrance, displaying simple numerals, one through five.
“Third quadrant,” Rosalie said, starting down the corridor marked with a three. Inset into these walls were deep shelves, upon which lay stone coffins. Each had a name, rank, and a set of dates inscribed below it, as well as a brief passage or phrase.
“If it’s a quadrant, why are there five of them?” Alice asked.
Guinevere suppressed a sigh. Couldn’t the child display a little bit of a respect for the dead? Must she act like it was just a jolly jaunt to the park for a picnic?
“Good question,” Rosalie said with a whisper of laughter. “I asked the Knight-Commander the same thing when I was a young girl, first being introduced to the catacombs. She said ‘there is always value in the extra.’ Which… well, I’m still not entirely sure what she meant. But there you have it.”
“So it’s like a baker’s dozen?” Alice asked.
Guinevere couldn’t help a sudden chuckle. Rosalie laughed, too. “That’s an interesting comparison,” she said. “Ah, here we are.”
They turned right at an intersection, and Guinevere once again marveled at Rosalie’s sense of direction and excellent memory. She hadn’t brought a map, yet she knew exactly where to go, walking with sure steps and no hesitation at any turn. Halfway down this new corridor, Rosalie stopped at a stone coffin.
The plaque displayed the name Captain Francine Voltaire.
She’d lived to the age of seventy, judging by the dates, nearly three centuries ago. A small phrase served as her epitaph: “Let my life be a beacon, shining forth the Creator’s Light.”
“Well, that certainly sounds like we’re on the right track,” Alice said.
“Yes,” Rosalie said. She was staring with narrowed eyes at the coffin, however. Guinevere looked, too, but she couldn’t notice anything to be worried about.
“It’s been disturbed,” Tobias and Sheena said at the same time. They looked at each other, and Tobias nodded to Sheena, so she continued, “Recently. Someone’s been opening this coffin.”
“Yes,” Rosalie said, eyes narrowing further. “ ‘She’s always got something interesting to say.’ Oh Yuri, tell me you didn’t.” She sighed, then, pressing her hands against the coffin’s lid, pushed.
It slid open easily, but Rosalie only pushed it far enough that she could peek inside near the head. She let out another sigh, then, with a look of displeasure, reached inside. There was a brief, soft clatter — bones, Guinevere realized with a shiver — and then Rosalie withdrew her hand.
Clutched in her grip was a silver tuning fork.
“I’m going to have to have a word with that girl,” she said. She bowed to the coffin. “My apologies, Captain. Especially on behalf of my lieutenant.” She straightened, then held up the tuning fork, examining it.
“What happens next?” Alice asked.
Rosalie looked closer. “Oh, there it is,” she said. “She’s inscribed an Elysian phrase. A riddle — or, well, more of an inside joke. She meant for me to see this… eventually.” She pocketed the tuning fork, closed up the coffin, and bowed once more to the deceased Captain, expressing her regrets. Then she turned and led the way back, down numerous corridors, until they were back at the main catacombs hub.
“Baker’s dozen,” Rosalie said, casting an amused smile at Alice. She led them down the passage marked with a five. Guinevere tensed up in the closed-in spaces, shuddering at the sight of so many coffins lining the walls. Her hand found the top of Ava’s head, and she let her fingers toy with her soft fur, assuaging her anxieties as she walked.
They turned left, then right, turning, turning, over and over finding narrow, partially-hidden entrances to new corridors. The paths kept winding round and round, and Guinevere got lost, thankful for Rosalie’s familiarity — but also longing for them to stop, to finally reach the end of this ominous, foreboding road.
Then Rosalie stopped at the entrance to a new, narrow corridor. The lamps here flickered, casting the long hall in harsh, inconsistent shadows. Rosalie raised the tuning fork and struck it against the wall. Two tones rang out, a crystal-clear harmony.
“Clever girl, finding this,” Rosalie said with a smile. She started down the hall, passing three sets of coffins before stopping as the shelves came to an end and there was only bare rock to her left. She struck this wall with the tuning fork, and the same two tones sounded again.
And the wall vanished.
There was no fanfare, no magical lights or movements or sounds. The wall was there. Then Guinevere blinked, and it wasn’t. Now stretched before them a rugged, cramped tunnel plunged in shadow. The harsh flickerings of the lamps barely cast any light in the tunnel, but when they did, Guinevere caught a glimpse of movement that made her flinch.
There was something in that tunnel. Many somethings. Small, crawling somethings, moving along the walls, and the ceiling.
Rosalie reached into one of her belt pouches and pulled out an electric torch. She turned it on and cast the shining beam down the tunnel. Guinevere swallowed a scream.
Spiders. Spiders in uncountable numbers crawled along the walls, along the ceiling, along the floors. They were so numerous that they crawled over each other, so tightly packed that Guinevere couldn’t even tell if there were walls and ceilings and floors of stone, or if the spiders themselves made up this tunnel with their own bodies.
“Ooh, look at them all!” Alice said, peering into the tunnel. “There must be millions! And they’re all so cozied up with each other. What a happy family.”
“Um,” Guinevere said, or, rather, squeaked. “Can we… can we go?” She couldn’t help her voice rising two whole octaves. She could barely find her voice to begin with.
“Of course not!” Alice said. “Guin, we’ve got to find the lighthouse. Don’t you want to get to Elysia?”
Guinevere nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Yuri said the spiders were friendly,” Rosalie said. She eyed the tunnel with trepidation. Took in a deep breath. “All right, then. Let’s test that theory.”
“Rosalie!” Guinevere cried, reaching for her. But it was too late. Rosalie stepped resolutely into the tunnel, minding her footing. She found a place of actual stone to land her first step, and then her second. The spiders skittered all around her. Two clambered up and over her boot, and Guinevere noticed her shiver slightly.
And then…
The spiders moved away. They crawled off, making way for Rosalie, vanishing into tiny holes at the base of the walls on either side. Rosalie shone her torch forward, and Guinevere watched as the spiders on the walls and ceiling even reeled in their webs which were blocking the way, clearing the path ahead before crawling away into their own hidey-holes.
“Right, then,” Rosalie said. She nodded stiffly. “Come on. Looks like there’s a chamber up ahead.”
Alice was the first to follow with a cheery, bouncy step. Flynn followed her, then Sheena.
“Guinevere?” Tobias asked. “Do you want to go last, or…?”
“No,” Guinevere said quickly, shaking her head but not moving. “Definitely not.”
“I’ve got your back, then,” Tobias said. Guinevere glanced at him, and noticed the genuine care and sympathy in his eyes. She faced forward, squared her shoulders, and with Ava right beside her, followed Sheena.
It was a narrow, low tunnel. She had to duck slightly, and her heart leapt into her throat as she felt something brush along the top of her head. She reached up quickly, brushing at her hair, but felt nothing.
“They’re all gone,” Tobias said. “I’ll let you know if one gets on you.”
His voice was kind, reassuring. There was no condemnation of her fears, nor was there an overbearing protectiveness.
He was just there for her. It didn’t completely steal away her fears, but it did help her calm down a little bit. She resisted the urge to shut her eyes, and instead watched Ava, calmly padding along beside her.
She stepped out from the tunnel into an open space, and when she looked up, she gasped in amazement.
The chamber was vast beyond measure. Miles stretched ahead of her to the far side. A towering, domed ceiling was an indoor sky, glittering like starlight and moonlight. Her tension vanished in the refreshing openness, and she took in a full breath for the first time since descending into the Undercroft.
And then her eyes fell on the center of the cavern. There stood a wide stone stage, a spacious foundation for a magnificent tower. But the tower in question had collapsed, lying in a ruin of battered stone, twisted metal, and shattered glass.
“The lighthouse,” Alice said softly, her voice magnified by the vastness of the chamber.
“I can’t believe this has been underneath us for so long, and no one knew,” Rosalie said, gazing in awe.
“But it’s destroyed,” Guinevere said. “What do we do now?”
“There may yet be clues,” Sheena said, approaching the stage that served as the lighthouse’s foundation. “Look here.”
They all gathered around her, and saw there was a metal plaque fixed to the front of the stage. On it was inscribed a musical staff, and amongst the notes, lyrics in Elysian.
“ ‘For those who lose sight,’,” Tobias read, “ ‘when darkest night descends. May this light cut through the night, that the wayward children may find their way back home.’ ”
“It doesn’t rhyme,” Alice said.
“It does in Elysian,” Tobias said.
“Why don’t you sing it, then, instead?” Alice asked, giving him an endearing smile.
“You get the gist,” Tobias said.
Alice sighed, then stood up straight and lifted her voice, singing in a bright, clear tone the song inscribed on the plaque. Guinevere’s heart was overcome by the song, a hope tinged with melancholy — a knowledge that night would indeed descend, that sorrow would come, and yet hope that the light would yet shine.
When Alice finished, she gazed upon the ruined lighthouse, an aching sorrow in her eyes. “The light shines no longer,” she said in a small voice.
“We should find the top,” Tobias said, stepping up onto the foundation. “There may be something there that still bears the light.”
They began their search, walking slowly, carefully amongst the ruins. Flynn darted off on his own, sniffing everything, ears up and alert. Akko hopped down from Sheena’s shoulder and explored the small cracks and crevices that no one else could enter.
Guinevere and Ava stayed together, taking their time as they strode up the perimeter. Guinevere laid her hands on the stonework, feeling the weight of history and hope in the weathered, rough ruin. Slowly, she voiced her thoughts. “This was built before the Fracturing, wasn’t it?”
“All signs point to that,” Tobias said. “Someone knew that the night of the Fracturing was coming. It seems this and other lighthouses were meant to point the way back to Elysia when all hope was destroyed in the Fracturing.”
“But how?” Guinevere asked. “How could they have known? And if they had known, why wouldn’t they prevent what was coming?”
“Perhaps they were contending with forces beyond their ability to overcome,” Alice said. “They knew they couldn’t win, so they secured a hope for the future. Or, at least… they tried to.” She bowed her head, and standing there in the middle of the ruin, with a shaft of silvery light falling on her from above, she looked like a phantom memory of the past, a somber ghost haunting the lonely ruin of the lighthouse.
“The tales of the Dragon Devas allude to a similar situation,” Sheena said. “The Four Dragon Devas were dispatched by the three Divine Dragons to secure a safe haven for future generations. Kisetsuryuu-En: The Dragons’ Garden. My home has existed since the dawn of this post-Fractured world — but we have no history of our own predating the Fracture, save the Dragon Devas and their great mission.”
“To know that the world was ending, and not be able to stop it,” Rosalie said softly, gazing up at the night-sky-ceiling. “The choices those with power had to make must have broken their hearts.”
“And the world didn’t end,” Tobias said. “It was broken, but not irretrievably. The world lived, and rebuilt. Their efforts were not in vain.” He paused, near the lighthouse’s top, peering into what had once been the windowed beacon, that was now a heap of twisted metal and shattered glass. “Though not all of their plans went exactly as they’d hoped.” He knelt down, looking inside an opening, and then said, “I’ve found something.”
They all went to join him as he carefully reached through the glass and sharp metal. When his hand came back out it was clutching a fist-sized crystal. It was strange, though — because it was dull. It didn’t glow with its own light, it didn’t ring with any resonance, and its reddish hue was cloudy and dark.
“A focusing stone,” Alice said, gazing in awe.
“You know what it is?” Guinevere asked.
“It’s similar to a crystal, but it doesn’t have a resonance of its own,” Alice said. “Instead, it responds to the proper resonance to bring forth its focus.” She then sang a wordless melody. It was like an inverse version of the melody of the song on the plaque, and there was an ethereal, haunted atmosphere to it that sent a shiver down Guinevere’s spine.
But when Alice was finished, the stone lit up in Tobias’ hand. He held it up, and lights beamed out around it, each light creating a different symbol in the air. A sphere of twinkling symbols floated around the focusing stone, and Guinevere wondered at their purpose.
“Constellations,” Sheena said. “These are stars. Is this stone trying to point us towards a specific constellation?”
“Perhaps,” Alice said. “We can’t know that easily. It needs to be placed within a modulator to make its focus shine more clearly.” She knelt down, peering into the lighthouse’s window, and frowned. “Well, that won’t work. It’s completely destroyed. We’ll have to see if we can find a modulator, but these kinds of devices aren’t built nowadays. It’s been ages since anyone had a use for them.”
“How do you know all this?” Guinevere asked. “And the song, too — you knew exactly what to sing to awaken the stone’s focus.”
Alice shrugged. “It just came to me. Divine inspiration, I suppose.” She smiled. “Or I’m just a clever girl.”
“But this will help point us in the same way the lighthouse would have?” Tobias asked.
Alice nodded sagely. “Precisely. I think the lighthouse just served as a high-powered modulator with a beacon. The focus stone is where the secret truly lies.”
“Then we’ll keep this close, and keep it safe,” Tobias said. He unslung his pack, stuffed the stone into an inner pocket, and slung it back over his shoulder. Then he looked at Rosalie, a bit of sheepish guilt crossing his face. It was a very candid expression — even rather cute, Guinevere thought. “I, um… if it’s okay with you, of course. I don’t mean to just take things from Ars Umbra without permission. It’s just…”
“You’re the ones searching for Elysia,” Rosalie said with a smile. “And I can trust it’s safe in your hands. I certainly have a lot of questions about this place — why it’s here, what it might mean for us, the history of it all, and the future it points to… but I can investigate on my own time.” She gazed up at the towering ceiling in awe. “And I’d love to know how Yuri found this place. And why she kept it a secret until now.”
“Thank you, Rosalie,” Guinevere said. “This has been a huge help. And it’s the second time you’ve helped me without me returning the favor. I owe you.”
“Friends don’t have debts,” Rosalie said, shaking her head. “I’m just glad you’re back already. It’s nice to see you — even if it isn’t likely to last long.”
“I’ll be wanting to get back on the road soon,” Guinevere admitted. “But…”
She gazed off into the distance.
It’s no coincidence my path brought me back to Ars Moran so soon, is it? There are things I need to do here, while I still have the chance. More than I realized.
A list was already growing in her mind. She checked her memory, thinking if there was anything she was missing.
And then a yawn came to her, unbidden. She tried to suppress it, but it came out big and strong, and when it finished, she was blinking bleary eyes.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.”
Rosalie laughed. “That’s all right,” she said. “It’s past midnight, after all. Let’s get out of the Undercroft, shall we?”
“Great idea,” Alice said. “We found what we needed. Let’s go.”