Page 59 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)
Caellum
O nly the sound of Caellum’s footfall broke the silence in Antor Castle while he roamed the halls.
He was hit with confusion the moment he stepped through the glass and into the castle, appearing at the end of a corridor without Sadira’s hand in his.
He tried calling for her and the others, but no one answered; he heard only his voice echoing back.
At the end of the hallway was a statue of a horse, watching him.
Caellum sighed, recalling far happier memories of running down this hallway after Edlen and Eve, the horse being one of their most common hiding spots.
Twisting the gold wedding band on his finger, Caellum gazed out of the glass, overlooking the walled garden where he watched Sadira on her first day here.
This castle held so many memories, and finally, happier ones were beginning to fill it.
The gardens were still beautiful, even with the colour missing.
He could still make out the varying tones of brown flowers.
He smiled. Sadira would be missing their colour wherever she was in Garridon.
With a final sigh, he glanced past the entrance to the garden where the path led out of the castle estate towards the Neutral City.
He would hopefully find Sadira on his journey.
Caellum stilled, pressing against the glass overlooking the gardens.
For a moment, he could have sworn he saw someone—or something—walk through the archway, but he blinked and saw nothing.
With a shake of his head, he turned to continue down the hallway and right to the staircase, but a sound stopped him.
A shiver ran up his spine and he straightened. He could have sworn he heard –
A giggled sounded from behind the statue, and the surrounding temperature dropped.
Caellum’s breathing halted, and his muscles stiffened as he forced himself to walk ahead.
Every step felt like lead as he moved, brushing his sweating palms against his jacket and swallowing the disappointment he would probably feel when he stepped around the statues.
Another giggle sounded, further down the hallway.
Distracted from the statue, Caellum looked away, his breath stolen from him.
“Eve,” he breathed. His sister’s head whipped around the corner, watching him.
Caellum blinked, but he barely had time to register anything when another giggle drifted from the statue, only a few steps away.
A cry fell from his lips as Edlen ran down the hallway, chasing after her sister.
“Edlen!” Caellum called, choking as emotions pummelled his insides.
He took off running after the girls, with delicate white roses pinned in their dusty blonde waves.
Caellum followed the giggles down the hallway, taking a right and then left until he stood at the top of the staircase, watching his sisters run hand in hand out of the towering arched doors towards the walled garden.
“Wait!” Caellum cried, hurrying down the stone steps towards the door.
He ran without a single thought, his mind empty.
Was this real or a hallucination? As he rounded the wall through the wisteria-coated archway, he expected to be hit by disappointment.
Instead, he leant his hands on his thighs, bowed his head, and allowed the tears to fall.
His brothers, Dalton, Kieren, and Halston, stood below the willow tree in the distance, swords in hand, practising their techniques as Sir Cain had shown them once.
Knees bent, they raised their arms and circled one another with wide-set grins.
Edlen and Eve whispered in their mother’s ear, who sat on a blanket by the fountain.
For the first time since he could recall, his mother grinned, threading a needle through cloth.
Then, there was his father, perched on the side of a walled flower bed, with Aurelia cross-legged on the grass below while he braided her hair, smiling and listening to her ramble.
His fingers gently moved down her hair, and his eyes were soft as he listened.
Caellum lifted his head and steadied a hand against the archway. When Edlen and Eve stopped whispering, his mother’s cry filled the air. She rushed to her feet, covering her mouth with her hand.
“You’re too young! You can’t be dead!” she cried, weaving amongst the flower beds to reach him.
“I—” Caellum choked, trying to reassure her he wasn’t. He was fine, but she cut off his words as she reached him.
“Cal,” murmured a deep voice. His father’s hands stopped, sending Aurelia’s hair tumbling down her back.
She raised her hand to her mouth and shifted to rise.
His brothers dropped their swords in the distance and began running.
“Cal,” his father said again, his voice cracking.
He rose, and in only a few long, quick strides, Wren pulled Caellum into him, holding the back of his head and repeating his name. He had never called him Cal before.
“Father...” Caellum tried to speak, his eyes watering as he watched Edlen and Eve’s matching grins while they held onto Aurelia’s skirts.
When his father finally pulled away, tears streamed down his face, glistening in a way Caellum had never seen.
One hand still grasped the back of his neck, while the other squeezed his arm.
Wren cleared his throat and stepped back, allowing Caellum’s mother to embrace her son.
He smiled at the comfort of her hug yet continued watching his father, who twisted his wedding band around his finger.
“Are you any better at sword fighting these days?” Dalton asked, clapping his brother on the back. Kieran and Halston beamed.
“I’d say so,” Caellum sniffed.
“Hello you,” Aurelia said, kissing his cheek while their parents embraced.
Caellum threaded his fingers in hers and squeezed her hand.
He looked down at their intertwined fingers, feeling the warmth of her skin despite her paled appearance.
Aurelia followed his eyeline but was fixated on his left hand.
“The wedding was beautiful,” Aurelia said, releasing one hand to wipe her tears.
“You were there?” Caellum asked, allowing Aurelia to pull him towards the wall where his mother and father were, his mother’s eyes glistening. Kieren and Halston encouraged Edlen and Eve to sit with them on the grass.
“Eight hawks,” Dalton said with pride. Caellum recalled the birds swooping overhead moments before the wedding began.
“She’s far too beautiful for you.” Halston grinned.
“Please, tell her she can have any of my dresses,” Aurelia said, still holding one of his hands as they perched on the wall opposite their parents. His entire family was squeezed into a gap between the flower beds.
“And my jewels,” said his mother. “Though she shines without them.”
“Your babies can have our toys,” Edlen said.
“I don’t think we’re quite there yet.” Caellum laughed, and Aurelia and his mother shared a look, as if eager to see him find happiness with a family of his own.
“You’ll be a magnificent father, just as you are a wonderful king,” his father said.
Caellum sensed the silent ‘unlike me,’ the regret lingering in his words.
Yet when Caellum looked at his father, he did not see the years of abuse or torment, not after reading his journals and understanding his mind.
Wren had tried to fight it. When Caellum looked at his father, he saw the man he would have been: the loving father, devoting husband, and respectful king.
The only hatred he felt while looking at his father was towards Caligh, for taking his family from him.
Caellum would devote his life to ensure Caligh never took another family as he had his.
“What’s it like being here?” Caellum asked.
“It was… difficult, at first,” said Hestia, squeezing Wren’s hand. “But when your father looked at me the way he had on our wedding day… I knew it was him.”
“You knew that Caligh—the Historian—had taken over his mind?” Caellum asked, remembering how absent his mother had been, rarely stepping in to protect them.
“He is the love of my life; I knew it was not him,” said Hestia. Wren cleared his throat and raised his head, peering up at the sky. “I knew the first time he hit me, and when he locked me away, preventing me from attending to you all. I knew if I tried to intervene, it would only worsen.”
“Please,” Wren whispered; his knuckles whitened where he clutched the wall with one hand. Dalton reached up to squeeze his father’s knee.
“All that matters is we are here now. We have had time together to properly get to know one another,” said Dalton, the brother who should have one day been the King of Garridon.
For a moment, Caellum was envious; in death, they had the chance to be together.
He had missed out on knowing his mother and father, and watching his siblings grow up with happy childhoods.
But he had Sadira, and that thought eased his envy.
“Will you play hide and seek with us?” Edlen asked, rising from the grass and tucking a fallen white flower back into her curls.
“Please, Cal! One last time!” Eve chimed in. Caellum tried to hide his tears as he coughed into his arm and wiped his eyes.
“I’m not sure I have time. I must find my wife.”
“You have time,” said Hestia, picking up his hand and cupping it in her smaller palms. She smiled gently at her son. “She has her own journey here. As long as you reach the Garridon gate at nightfall, you have time.”
“It will take me a while to walk that distance.”
“Time is different here. Take a moment, act like you have all the time in the world, and I will tell you when you need to go.” Hestia smiled when Edlen and Eve took off running.
“Very well,” Caellum stood and covered his eyes before counting. “One… two… three…”