Page 27
Story: Blinding Light
26
“ T iganos. Check. Coffee. Check. Great company. Check. Are you now going to tell me why the hell we’re sitting here?” Archer held up a hand in the air. “No, let me guess. This is about Professor Dai’s challenge. I was thinking of going to the port since you love Helion light so much. It’ll be a great location to create.”
Cyprian grinned, his mouth full of breakfast.
“Oh? That’s it? I guessed it already?”
He shook his head, swallowing another delicious bite of tigano. Helianth’s furry frame slid past him, purring when Cyprian’s hand brushed over the soft brown hairs. “I have a major favour to ask you.”
Archer’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Shoot.”
Cyprian hesitated. Then he blurted, “The University of the Living Dead.”
Archer frowned. “What about it?”
“Have you ever heard of it?”
“I have,” Archer drawled, eyes narrowing, “but it’s not a very nice place, so I’ve been told. I’ve never been. Most of us have never been. I mean, it’s far away and not open to the public. Plus we have hospitals here in Zephyr. Why are you asking?”
“My mother’s there.”
Archer’s mouth fell open, eyes widening. “Your mother ? Hang on, when did you find out about this?”
“Last night.” Cyprian’s face heated. “I overheard Moargan talking to Yure and Aviel. They were in the kitchen, and I wasn’t, but?—”
“You were eavesdropping.” Archer’s smile was small, his gaze filled with pity.
“Yeah.” Cyprian’s heart had dropped the moment he’d heard them talk of his mother. He hadn’t meant to linger and steal their conversation. But when he’d heard Aviel mention that Yure had found something, this feeling of hope had spiked. And then they had spoken of his siblings… They had spoken of many other things that were both terrifying and intriguing, but then Yure had told Moargan that they knew the current location of his mother. And…Cyprian had pretended to sleep when Moargan had returned to the bedroom. Had listened when his angel had read a story beautiful and sad with a nostalgia so intense it had threatened to drown him in sorrow. And shame. Because of course, there were no such things as butterfly roofs and happy families. Not in his tale.
“It’s a hospital,” Archer looked up from his multi-slate.
“Do you have the address?” Cyprian’s mouth was dry. His multi-slate pinged.
“There you go. But listen,” Archer leaned in and squeezed his arm, “if you want to go and visit your mom, I can go with you. Unless you want to go with the Imperial Prince?”
“No,” Cyprian blurted. He cleared his throat. “I mean, Moargan is a busy man. He—” He stared down at his arm, where Archer’s hand still held tight. He couldn’t drag Moargan to a hospital. It would ruin his reputation. But Cyprian could use a friend. “Are you serious? ”
“Of course.” Archer winked. “It’s far away and you might get lost.”
They agreed to leave class early today. The journey was long and Cyprian needed to find a way to shake those guards off. He didn’t want them to know where he was going. Didn’t want Moargan to know he knew, despite this connection they were forging around their bond. Cyprian loved how Moargan had opened up to him, how he had shown him his old bedroom. It had been intimate, proof there was so much more than his privileged self. He had spoken of the Dariux to Cyprian, a cruel world filled with primal needs. And in return, Cyprian had been honest to him about his visions. Those words, leaving his troubled thoughts, had made him feel lighter. A secret was revealed. They would continue unwrapping whatever it was that had settled in his mind. And then there was that story Moargan had read to the stars last night…had Cyprian heard it right when Moargan had used the word ‘mama’?
The baby picture was hidden in the pocket of his jacket, hot and guilty because he had snatched it from Moargan’s file.
Maybe the Imperial Prince deserved to join him today. After all, he’d come for Cyprian when he’d fallen apart in front of the apartment of Ludo Fandi. Still, this felt different.
This was a mental institution.
What was he going to find? What if Moargan…Cyprian couldn’t finish all the possible questions.
What if Moargan rejected Cyprian because of it?
He’d heard of tales about mates who’d been rejected by their other half.
What if Cyprian’s mother was a criminal, meant to be hidden away for the rest of her life? What if she was a monster too?
Stop it.
But he couldn’t. He was going crazy with it all. With shame and wonder. But no matter how crazy he felt, and how much he secretly craved to lean on Moargan, he wouldn’t. This was his journey. His life. His burden to carry.
T he bus ride took them a little over two hours, mostly due to the bad road network in this part of Helion. When they finally hit a lone highway that took them through countless miles of dry land, their earlier excitement wavered, until it entirely evaporated.
This was no man’s land. Aside from the driver, every other passenger had already left the bus.
Archer’s knee bounced as he looked outside the window. Cyprian sat with his legs pressed together, school bag on his lap, the straps tightly held by his fingers. Trepidation coiled inside his stomach, making him feel nauseous.
Next to him, Archer sucked in a breath. “She—she lives, right?”
“Yes?” Cyprian looked up and outside the window. A cemetery had doomed up out of nowhere and framed their entire view, reaching to the horizon. There were graves and statues, trees, and those Helion signs he had come to familiarize himself with, often carved into stone or wood. Cyprian licked his lips as he tried to recall the conversation he’d overheard. They had spoken of Celia Fandi as if she was still alive. Right?
A shiver crawled up his spine. He wasn’t so sure anymore.
“We’re here.” The bus driver suddenly announced as they stopped.
Cyprian stood, dazed. “I think we might have the wrong address. I wasn’t expecting a cemetery.”
“There might be a lot of death here.” The driver pointed toward the other side of the road. “But there’s also life.”
They stared at the building that had appeared on the other side of the road.
“There we are,” Archer muttered. “Come on, let’s go and check it out.”
They started their walk through the dry sand.
“Helion University of the Living,” Cyprian read from the plate that hung above the high, metal doors. Behind them, the bus took off with a tired groan and a whiff of smoke.
They were on their own.
“Now I understand why most Helions have never been here before.” Archer spun on his heel to take in the entire view. “There’s something ominous about this place.” On one side of the empty highway sat the immense cemetery. And on this side, and for as far as their eyes could reach, the horizon was filled with a metal wall as high as two grown men stacked on top of one another. “They look like they could use some company.” Archer pointed his chin to where two security guards stood positioned by the entrance, glaring at them.
“You think so?” Cyprian’s stomach clenched, nerves fluttering around freely.
“No. But there’s only one way in. Let’s go.”
They made their way through the blasting heat, the heavy stare on the guards following every inch they stalked closer.
“Why is it called the University of the Living?” Cyprian asked. “Should it not be Hospital?”
Archer hummed. “We’re hopefully about to find out. Helions celebrate the living. The dead as well. Although we don’t usually bury our loved ones. Perhaps that’s why this place gives me the creeps.”
“You didn’t bury your parents?”
Archer shrugged. “There was a ceremony by the sea. We scattered their ashes into the water.”
“Halt!” Came the order. Both soldiers widened their stance, weapons on display.
“I hope you thought this part through,” Archer mumbled under his breath.
“Who are you and why are you here?” The tallest of the two guards demanded.
Cyprian cleared his throat. “My name is Cyprian Creighton, and I’ve come to visit my mother.”
“Invitation.” The guard held out a hand.
“Uhm—”
“We don’t need one,” Archer supplied.
The soldier retrieved his hand. “No invitation, no access. This place is not open to the public.”
“I don’t need an invitation to visit my mother.” Cyprian pointed toward the iron fence. “She’s behind those walls. Please?—”
“No invitation, no entrance. Please leave.”
Cyprian sighed, mind rattling to come up with an argument. Archer was right. He hadn’t thought this through. But then he hadn’t expected to find a closed facility that was guarded with weapons. He balled his hands, jutting his chin forward. “Patients have the right to have visitors.”
“They do. They invite them.” The second guard took a threatening step forward, pointing his laser right at them. “You don’t have an invitation.”
“That’s because I’ve never seen her before. Please. I have searched for so long to find my mother—” Archer’s hand grabbed his.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
The soldier scoffed. “In this hospital, the rules aren’t made by patients, and certainly not by visitors, but by the Imperial family. We have the authority to use force to keep this facility safe. We will use this right against you if we see it fit.”
“And I have a right to see my mother,” Cyprian snarled. Desperation clawed up his insides, creating an erratic fear that he might never get to meet her. Because of these men. He shook his hand free, pointing a finger toward the guards. “A right that I won’t have taken away by two big- sized heads like yourselves. So, if I were you, I’d step aside?—”
“Or? Let me tell you something, kid. The hospital still has space for more patients, and if you don’t get the fuck out of my face now, you will end up being one of them.”
“That way he can play cards with his mother every Sunday,” the other guard smirked, and they both chuckled. A chuckle that turned into a grunt, when Cyprian shoved one of the guards back and against the metal door. Rage made him feel light-headed.
“I won’t be told what to do by the likes of you. I need to see my mother. Now, step aside.”
“Cyprian,” Archer warned. One of the guards lifted his laser gun and Archer yanked Cyprian back. “They’ll get us arrested. Let’s go. We’ll find another way.”
“No,” Cyprian growled. His eyes burned as he struggled in Archer’s hold. “I won’t let them keep us apart. If she’s in there, I want to know.”
But at the sudden, piercing sound of a siren they both froze. The doors clicked open, and more soldiers came out of the building. They filled the entrance and littered the wall, taking position and glaring straight ahead.
“Oh, shit,” Archer swore, then pulled on Cyprian’s arm. “We really need to g?—”
Behind them, a black hover car stopped with a shriek.
“Good light. Cyprian?” Archer’s hand found his and he squeezed. But Cyprian didn’t respond. He couldn’t move. A sudden vision had swallowed him whole. It was like something inside him had been switched on. He felt like he was floating. His eyes were looking, but he couldn’t see. Just that basement. Always that fucking basement lost in a labyrinth of stairs.
“Cyprian!” Someone called out, but he wasn’t sure who.
Can you hear me?
His eyes fluttered at the sound. He recognized that voice .
Please hear me. Please help me.
Rough hands picked him up, and the vision flapped away like a bat in the night, taking away those scattered words in its wake.
No! He wanted to scream, but his throat was locked up. I need answers. I need to understand. Nothing came to view, except for a dimly lit office. Cyprian blinked fiercely until he saw Archer, whose eyes were wide with fear. His friend carried a purple bruise on his temple and had a scratch on his lip that leaked blood.
“Can you hear me?” Archer asked.
“Yeah.” Cyprian looked down to his hands and feet. They had been shackled and dumped in the corner of some office. “Where are we? Please tell me we made it inside?”
Archer let out a small chuckle and shook his head. “We didn’t. Dude, you were completely out of it. Just like the other day at school. Is this—do you often have this?”
Cyprian tipped his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “I think it’s the light on this planet,” he said. That wasn’t a total lie at least. “It does something to my mind.”
Archer shuffled closer until they sat next to each other, their backs pressed against the wall. “I was afraid you’d get hurt,” he confessed.
Cyprian smiled, those words singing in his heart. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. You were with me, that was enough. So where are we?”
“The Luminary took us. That’s bad. That’s—” Archer licked his lips and turned to look through the bars. “They will hurt us,” he whispered thickly. “Good light, they will tear us apart.”
The door clicked open. Next to him, Archer flinched.
A man and a woman came in, dressed in black and gold. Guards pushed Cyprian and Archer into two seats that stood across a desk and shackled them.
“What were you doing outside the hospital?” The man asked, his eyes lingering on Cyprian’s yellow gaze.
“It was a misunderstanding. We—” Archer began.
“I came to see my mother,” Cyprian finished. He threw his chin higher in the air.
“Your mother is a patient of the hospital?” The woman asked, frowning. “So, you were invited?”
“No, I—I was adopted at a young age. I have been searching for her my entire life.” Cyprian stopped to clear his throat. That familiar sense of helplessness threatened to smother him. “You are not going to let me see her, are you?”
“This facility is not open to the public,” the woman began. Before she could finish her phrase, there was another knock on the door.
There was a commotion when more guards walked in. Then their interrogators slowly stood, their eyes wide.
“Imperial Moargan,” someone said.
In walked the Imperial Prince, gaze roaming around the room until they landed on Cyprian. His amethyst eyes flared. “I’ve come to retrieve something that belongs to me.” He jutted his chin to Cyprian. “Him.”
Both Luminary gasped. “This young man?—”
“Is my Royal Consort.”
The man spluttered in surprise. “We were not informed about this. Both men refused to leave the gates. They had no invitation.”
“I will take them both with me,” Moargan commanded.
Guards hurried to take off the cuffs.
“Cyprian.” He had barely enough time to get out of his chair when Moargan’s strong arm curled around his nape, pressing him to his chest.
“I’m sorry.” Cyprian exhaled, feeling his entire body slump as he finally relaxed. Warmth bloomed up inside his body and on his skin, the scent of opium and pine tar drifting through his nose.
Moargan walked them outside and straight to where a spacious, black hover car was waiting for them. When Archer climbed in the back, Moargan pulled Cyprian back. “Why did you do it? Come here without me?”
Cyprian’s shoulders slumped. Suddenly he felt incredibly stupid for what he’d done.
“You brought your friend into danger. You brought yourself into danger.”
“I was afraid you’d be ashamed of me,” he blurted.
Moargan’s eyebrows wrinkled in surprise. “Ashamed?”
“For having a mother in a hospital. In a mental one.”
“Cyprian…” Moargan glared at the car. “Tonight, we’ll talk about this. Just…I’m not ashamed, okay?”
“Okay.” Cyprian crawled in the back of the car, taking a seat next to Archer. He stiffened when he saw the Imperial across from him. “Sir.”
“Cyprian.” Milanov smiled. “I heard you got into some trouble at the hospital.”
“Yeah, we—uhm, didn’t have an invitation.”
“And from now on, you won’t need one.” Milanov handed him an official paper. Cyprian saw that his name was written on it, and below that, the name of his mother.
Celia Fandi. She was here, in this hospital. And he’d been given a permanent invitation.
“I—” His eyes burned. “Thank you.”
Leaning in, Moargan placed his palm against Cyprian. His eyes sharpened. “Move aside,” he rumbled, and with a surprised yelp, Archer was maneuvered into Moargan’s seat as the Imperial Prince switched places. A large, warm arm curled around Cyprian’s shoulders and pulled him close. “That’s better.”
Cyprian sighed contentedly when his cheek fell flush against Moargan’s chest, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of a panicked-looking Archer, who suddenly found himself sitting right next to the Imperial himself.
A smirking Imperial.