Chapter 8: Questions and Shadows

SIENNA

The Great Hall is imposing, like everything in this castle. The main table is made of solid wood, carved with patterns that resemble tangled roots, as if the forest itself had grown inside these walls. The hanging lamps, formed by intertwined branches, illuminate the room with a golden, warm light. But what catches my attention the most is the opulence of the food.

Plates served with seasoned meats, fresh fruits, and bread so soft it seems to melt in your fingers. I can't remember the last time I saw so much food together. My instinct is to be wary, but my tired body almost betrays me with the hunger burning in my gut.

Bastian greets us with impeccable courtesy. He slightly bows upon seeing us arrive, with that smile that seems always on the verge of becoming mocking.

—Ladies —he greets us, and his tone is as elegant as it is captivating—. I hope your rest has been restorative.

Astrid, dazzled by the beauty of the place, barely hears him. Her gaze roams the room with the fascination of someone who has never seen anything like it. And when her eyes fall on the farthest corner of the room, they stop. I follow her gaze and see a piano. Old, but immaculate, with its ivory keys shining under the candlelight.

Astrid always wanted to learn to play.

The gleam in her eyes tells me she's forgotten everything else. She doesn't even notice how Bastian watches her with an interest that puts me on edge.

He doesn't take his eyes off her.

Camala and Agnes serve us with expert precision. When the plates are in front of us, a sense of alertness takes over me. I wait. I won’t touch anything until Bastian does first.

He, as if reading my thoughts, takes a piece of bread and calmly brings it to his mouth. Gently, without hurry, he chews and swallows before giving me an impassive glance.

—Now? —he asks with amusement.

Astrid gives me a warning look, but I don't apologize. I've lived too long in danger to trust blindly.

Only when I see that the food doesn't kill him, I take mine and begin to eat.

As we chew, the need for answers takes hold of me. Bastian is the key to understanding this world, and I won’t waste the opportunity.

—What exactly is the Earth Court? —I ask, watching him closely.

Bastian rests his elbows on the table and intertwines his fingers. His gaze becomes more serious, although he still maintains that arrogant ease with which he seems to handle every conversation.

—The Earth Court is the foundation of everything you see. Without it, the other courts couldn’t exist. The balance of nature, the force that keeps the world standing, belongs to us. We are the root and the trunk. The support of the Four Courts.

Astrid delicately sets her cup on the table.

—And the others? —she asks, genuinely interested.

—The Water Court, unpredictable and changeable. Its power lies in fluidity, in the ability to adapt to any situation. Its members are healers, illusionists, and emotional manipulators, capable of altering emotional will with the gentleness of a wave or sweeping with the fury of a storm. They are the most versatile, but also the most treacherous because you never know which direction they'll flow.

The Air Court, clever and fast, is the most elusive. They slip through the shadows, intangible like the wind, spies and strategists whose information is their greatest weapon. They control the currents, can hear the faintest whispers, and move with impossible speed. They are the breath of the storm before the tempest.

And the Fire Court... —his voice drops a tone, and his gaze darkens slightly—, is the most feared and the deadliest. They are destruction incarnate, the flame that devours without distinction. They not only dominate fire, but their true power lies in controlling others’ will. They are experts at igniting hidden desires, feeding despair and fear until turning them into weapons against oneself. Their influence is like a raging fire, infiltrating the mind until it becomes a battlefield where few can resist.

They are passion, they are rage, they are a storm of ashes that sweeps everything in its path. Their warriors don’t only fight with steel and flame, but with whispers that break the spirit. And when they unleash their fury, there is no refuge, no escape. Their magic is the most devastating of all the Courts because it doesn’t only consume… it corrupts.

My fingers grip the edge of my plate. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember the creature that chased me that night in the forest. Its shadow still clings to my mind, and a question forms on my lips before I can stop it.

—Bastian, what do the Fire Court people look like?

He lifts his gaze, his expression becomes unreadable.

—Red eyes, black hair. Only those who carry the blood of the lords are giants, something like me. —He pauses, his voice lowering a tone—. And if you ever see one, run, Sienna. Don’t make them angry, much less provoke them, because once they get into your mind and want to hunt you… there’s no turning back.

A chill runs through me, that’s exactly what I did, but I push my thoughts aside and continue with the questions.

—And humans? Why don’t we have a place in this balance?

Bastian looks at me closely. I feel the weight of his analysis, as if he’s searching for something inside me.

—Because humans are weak. They are the weeds in this world. They have no power, no longevity. They only survive because they know how to hide. But the balance doesn’t need them. That’s why they were expelled from the Courts centuries ago.

His indifference heats my blood. I clench my jaw and force myself to stay calm.

—That doesn’t seem fair to me.

He laughs, but there’s no mockery in his expression this time.

—It’s not about fairness, Sienna. It’s about survival. And you’ll see that humans, the vast majority, are scum who deserve nothing, neither this world nor the filth they’re in.