Chapter 5

[The Diamond Beacon.]

That is the name of this particular spell.

A unique spell that summons forth a multi-colored light to light the way, that and the trademark blond hair, is proof of the Imperial family.

They say that a very long time ago, when the Gods still directly influenced the lands, Goddess Gaia bestowed the first Emperor with this extraordinary power to guide the people. With it, he led the people to a fight against the dark forces that dwell in our land.

With it and himself as the people’s beacon, the people developed the Empire, and throughout history, the Beacon has always been a symbol of Royalty.

Both the Empress and Cyrus are capable of this particular spell. When they call forth the Beacon, it surrounds their right hand and shines as bright as the midday sun.

Callisto’s is a little different.

And if I were to be honest, I much prefer his.

"Cal…" I call out his nickname with the same familiarity with which he called my own. "You know that you shouldn't be using the special ability of the Imperial Family like this."

I hear him scoff, and I cradle a ball of light with my two hands, keeping it floating in place, not daring to pop it- afraid to lose the beautiful colors despite how there are many floating around in the room.

"It’s just light. Nothing special." Callisto insists, going so far as to pop one with a flick of his fingers- trying to convince me of the way he sees them.

Still, I treat them gently, like each one is as precious just as they look. "It’s proof of your lineage. It proves that you can inherit the throne."

“A man who doesn’t want to inherit the throne doesn’t have use for it.”

His words make me smile. “You are your brother’s greatest supporter.”

He is.

Callisto is the second Prince. The second child born between the Empress and her late Consort inherited his father’s hair and his mother’s eyes.

He grew up with a tough life, despite his status as a Prince. Many didn’t believe him to be a child of Royal blood, for it was rare- too far and few in between- for the children to be born without blond hair.

Many doubted his lineage despite The Empress and Cyrus’s protests. It was even worse when The Diamond Beacon did not manifest when he had turned ten, as it should have.

People approached him to use him.

They called him names.

They told him that he didn’t belong in the Imperial family.

Some even told him that he is cursed.

But those who did got the worse surprise of their life when at the age of 14, it finally manifested.

It was a truly dark night within that ballroom. Rebels took over the Imperial ballroom during an event, and it had been chaotic when they’ve taken away all the light. I remember being terrified as Callisto held me tightly. They were so close to succeeding as neither The Empress nor the Crown Prince were in attendance.

The knights couldn’t aim to take down the assailants while the Rebels used magic stones to see in the dark.

Until small balls of multi-colored light started to illuminate the ballroom.

Callisto had finally awaked to [The Diamond Beacon]. A very unique rendition of the spell that only two other people in history have ever awakened to. A Beacon that only lights up within the night and freely moves in any way the caster wills it to.

With it, he lit the way for the knights to fight.

It’s a wonderful gift, but I supposed after everything he went through, he doesn’t see the spell as anything more than pretty lights.

Still, he’s kind enough to cast it for me.

I go on to write what transpired today, and I feel him sit next to me on the bed. I know he’s looking over my shoulder, but I don’t mind.

“... You never write anything more than what happened huh?”

He’s right. I never write anything more than the events that transpired.

They’re clinical in a way. Factual.

Maybe, they write about the person they admire? Maybe they write about how they feel? I don’t really understand how it works.

These blank paged books are known as a ‘diary’ to other girls, but to me, they only serve as a ‘journal’.

I don’t see the use in writing the things I felt on a day-to-day basis. I don’t see the charm in writing down my own emotions constantly. It feels… too vulnerable to consider.

To write my feelings in these books feels too much like I’m trying to tell others, who will eventually read these, my personal self.

I’m not very keen on such a thought.

These journals are for me. They’re proof that I’ve lived long enough to write a page each day. Nothing more.

Each day is precious.

That is why I write what transpired on that day.

That’s all.

They’re not for others to know how I felt in every instance that I’m saddened, or angry, or happy, or ecstatic.

I only need the people who are close to me to know such vulnerable and valuable times. I only need the Goddess to hear my thoughts and prayers. They are not for some stranger in the distant future when I’m no longer around.

“Do I need to write more?” I smile at him as I finish writing for today and close the fountain pen. I leave the ink to dry, allowing Callisto to take it and read.

“Not at all.” He agrees with a smile as he leaves the journal alone after a while.

“So, will you tell me why you’re here? Or should I guess?” I ask him as I pull my knees up onto the bed’s edge and hold them closer to me, leaning my head on them as I watch the lights dance against his skin.

It was mesmerizing to see.

“I have two reasons. One is to check up on you and to cheer you up.”

I smile, I can’t help but to.

It was a habit he has. Sneaking himself to my room just to check up on me. It was one of his most favorite games; to escape his own room and travel all the way to my own. It didn’t matter what time of the day- he would find his way here just to talk to me.

It didn’t matter what we talked about. We could read a book, discuss a new flower or feather he brought. He would even make fun of my tutors, and I would laugh at each one. He always knew how to make me laugh best.

It was all so charming.

“Did you, now? I’m perfectly fine.” I tell him.

“I know,” Callisto says, and he tucks a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “You’re not the type to spend all night crying about spilled wine.”

I’m not. He’s perfectly right.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not even a little upset.”

Again, he’s right.

But I don’t want to talk about it. “How is it with your sword training?” I ask him instead.

“...” His expression tells me that he knows what I’m trying to do, but he humors me anyway. “Well. The knight Captain tells me that I have so much talent that I would be one of the best even among the seasoned knights.”

I give him a soft smile, one of sympathy. “But you can’t join the Royal Knightage?”

His expression hardens, his eyes downcast. “Not if I want to start out as a foot soldier.”

“Callisto…”

“I don’t want a position that I didn’t earn, Ann.”

“But you’ve always dreamed of being a knight, Cal. Your mother would never allow you to start as a foot soldier. Especially now that you’ve grown into such a magnificent swordsman.”

“If she’d allowed me to join the knightage a few years back, then maybe I would have been just as skilled as my schoolmates who did enter the knightage after their time in the academy.” he sighs in frustration. “But even back then, she wanted me to take on a higher standing than a ‘mere foot soldier’, and why? Because I’m Royalty, and I deserve one? Idiotic.”

I reach my hand out to cup the side of his face. His skin feels cool against my relatively warm hand. After all, he just came into the room from the cold spring night. With my thumb, I brush away at the crease of his brows.

This much skinship is a comfort to us. Familiar, but not intimate, it’s something we’re used to.

I try to find words to comfort him, but the decision of the Empress is always- hm?

My eyes stray down to his hand, and for the first time tonight, I realize that he’s holding onto something.

A scrolled parchment of some kind?

“Cal? What is that?” I ask because yes, I am curious, but also to give him the opportunity to change in subject. It’s only fair because I used it first.

“... The second reason I came,” Callisto says, and he brings the parchment up for me to take.

I take it gingerly. The feel of the material tells me that it’s the special kind that only the Imperial Family has access to.

Unscrolling it, I read what it says, the little orbs of light helping my eyes in the darkness better than the lamp beside my bed.

There are two things I see that completely stops my heart.

The first is the word ‘Engagement’, and the second is the crest of a certain family.

Turning to look at Callisto, I hope to the heavens that I have my expression under control.

He has a soft smile. It’s the kind that I cant read.

I want to bite my lower lips. I can feel a bit of liquid burn at my eyes.

No, Lillian. Reign it in.

This isn’t something for you to be sad about. It’s something to be happy for.

Give him a smile.

“... It’s finally made official,” I say, and I’m glad my voice doesn’t break.

Callisto gives me a nod. “It did,” he says, his voice is soft- but why is it soft?

My mind is a mess trying to burn down my own emotions.

I’m usually much better at reading someone than this.

Come on, Lillian. Callisto deserves your happiness, your support!

“Congratulations, Callisto. You’ve wanted this for so long now.”

“I did.” he nods as if to laugh a little, and he smiles again. “I finally managed to get the Duke’s approval as well as Mother’s.”

It shatters my heart to a million pieces.

But don’t show it, Lillian. Stay strong. Be strong.

“I’m finally engaged to Lady Rosanna.”

You don’t deserve to cry.