Love Lost: Alethea's Lament Verse One

By Cathryn Leigh

Friends since childhood, Alethea and Eramaus find themselves embarking upon an adventure. But this is no tame childhood stroll in the rainforests of their youth: this is a journey of faith to the Holy City, for they have been called to serve their god, the Lord of Light. But Alethea is constantly called a Dark One, a child of Night, unworth

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chaos Publications
• Release date: Apr 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9781792394072

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Cathryn Leigh

LOVE LOST

Copyright © 2023 by Chaos Publications

Copyright © 2023 by Cathryn Leigh

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For information contact:

http://www.tamingchaos.net/Cathryn-Leigh

Book design by Cathryn Leigh

Cover design by Dawn Davidson

ISBN:  978-1-7923-9407-2

Third Edition: April 2023

To those who understand the need for series covers to match; you know why I had to do this.

Map of the Theodoroi Islands

Chapter 1

Alethea stood upon the balcony overlooking the courtyard. She turned east to where the sunlight filtered through the morning fog. Monkeys screeched greetings to each other while bright feathered birds flitted branch to branch, singing. The low fog tickled Alethea like a soft caress on her skin. Stretching her arms wide, she welcomed its touch, feeling closer to The Lord of Light. She tilted her head up.

The caravan would arrive today, and tomorrow she and her father would move. City noises would replace the jungle song of exaltation. She supposed that the city noises of people were also of The Lord’s creation. A monkey peeked down from the roof, chittering in her direction. Alethea smiled. She closed her eyes as she offered a prayer to The Lord of Light, creator and keeper of all.

Lord,

Let me see the Light

Let me be the Light

Let my Father be happy

Let my Mother rest in peace

And Lord, she opened her eyes and swallowed, let this move be smooth.

Illumine-me

Alethea dropped her arms.

Alethea?

Alethea turned toward the voice. The fog swirled and parted as her father appeared. His kolobus, a rectangle of cloth sewn up the side with room for his arms and neck, was girdled tight around his stout frame with the golden yellow belt of a count.

I hear there is still morning mist in Valaora. The corners of his mouth turned up as he stopped a few feet away.

Alethea forced her mouth to do the same, once more aware that she was taller than he. He turned toward the courtyard and leaned against the railing. Keeping her distance, Alethea pivoted. The breath of The Lord cooled her skin as they gazed into the fog toward the fountain.

It was the one routine that remained. Ten years it had been since her mother’s passing, and still her spot lay between them. Yet it was the only time Alethea ever had with her father.

You are sixteen today.

I am? she barely heard her voice.

Nothing had ever marked her birthday before. Even her mother, Sofi, hadn’t made a fuss of it. Ada Mos, her nursemaid, certainly hadn’t, not even when Alethea had come of age at fourteen.

We will arrive in Valaora on the day of the Initiates Vigil. You should join it. He turned his head toward her.

I… I should?

The last vigil had been seven years ago. It had been mentioned then, in a passing comment about her mother’s final wishes. But Alethea had been too young, and now, as the only heir to her father’s business, she expected her father to find her a husband. Yet she had not been introduced to any suitors these past two years. Sitting the vigil was her only alternative, if they let her.

Sofi always said you belonged to The Lord of Light. Her father looked back into the courtyard. It may be better for you to be a mediki than take a husband. Though I suppose, if you can’t be a mediki, you should make a pilgrimage to The Holy Land. He let out a breath, and then so quietly Alethea barely caught the words, continued. But if we go over the pass, what might the Dark Ones do?

The Dark Ones.

The mention of those who worshiped The Lady of Night sent a tingle down Alethea’s spine. She had heard stories of them, been harassed for looking like one. But just because she was paler, and taller, and thinner than most Light didn’t mean she was a Dark One. She worshiped the Light and embraced the day. They worshiped the Night and embraced the dark. The Light sailed the sea, while the Dark never descended below the Dead Zone. And she’d never been above that black rocky divide. There was a pass the Light used to cross it and her father always hired mercenaries to protect his caravans. Would her presence really cause something to happen if she made a pilgrimage that way?

Alethea glanced to the courtyard where the fountain materialized from the fog. Her father let out a long sigh and spoke quietly as if he didn’t expect her to hear.

No, she must do the vigil. Sofi asked she become a priestess. I promised she would. A suitable husband has been hard to find. He pulled himself back from the railing. Besides, High Psara Perroa has requested it.

High Psara Perroa? Alethea lost the pretense of not hearing. There were only seven high priests in the entire Empire of the Theodoroi Islands.

Yes. Her father turned his head toward her. He has heard of your prayers and requests that you join the Initiates Vigil.

A High Psara had heard of her prayers? She had never traveled from this out-of-the-way place, yet he had heard. It must be a sign from The Lord of Light. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t had any suitors. It hadn’t been because she was less than plain, but because she was destined to become a priestess and serve The Lord as a Mediki of Light.

Come, I smell breakfast. Her father pushed himself from the railing and passed her by.

Alethea trailed after him, surprised by the gesture. Having a family breakfast together had died with her mother. Preferring to stay immersed in his work, her father had taken all his meals in his study, while she ate in the kitchen.

They ambled along under the balcony that ran around the courtyard until they reached the great hall. This manor house wasn’t her father’s. It belonged to the Duke of Gorgomilos, who had bestowed her father his title of count. The Duke let him run the merchant business from here. But now, the Duke’s wife, Duchess Stephana, was moving in, so Alethea and her father had to move out. She would miss the gray stone edifice surrounded by the lively greens of the rainforest.

Passing through the open expanse of the hall, Alethea caught sight of the servants setting up tables. As the last tendrils of fog were washed away with the cool sea breeze, Alethea shook out the thought that her father had planned a celebration for her. It was more likely to be for feeding the caravan that would arrive today. The same caravan they would travel with to Valaora, capital of this kingdom, one of the seven of the empire.

Ada Mos bobbed a curtsy as they approached. Her head tilted up as she smiled at Alethea.

Made your favorites, Dame... Her words trailed off as she took in Alethea’s dress.

Alethea looked down and flushed. Her apricot chiton was of the ionic style. Aside from it barely going to her knees, she liked how it covered more of her arms than the doric chiton she was supposed to wear. Even after two years, Alethea couldn’t get used to the second layer of fabric over her torso. The elderly woman sighed and ushered them to the small table set up on the balcony.

Waves crashed upon the shore below, though the tropical trees hid all but glimpses of the sparkling blue ocean. An unbidden thought of sailing over that treacherous water sent a shiver down Alethea’s spine. But she sat, letting her father scoot her in to the table before eating the fruit-covered oatcakes and bacon that Ada Mos served them.

‘...better for you to be a mediki than take a husband..." Her father’s words echoed inside Alethea’s head as she nibbled at her food. She ate half the heaping amount on her father’s plate, yet it took her just as long. It wasn’t until he began to stand that she found courage to speak.

You think it would be best for me to become a mediki, rather than find a husband?

Her father stopped. For a long time, he looked at his plate. Alethea was about to stammer an apology when he looked at her.

You were born during Sofi’s pilgrimage to The Holy Land to pray for a healthy child at the altar of The Lord of Light. Alethea stared at him, her eyes searching his face. He had never lied to her. Sofi never told you, did she? He shook his head. I would have thought she would have, you’ve always been so pious, dutiful…

Dutiful. Duty meant that she ought to marry the man her father chose for her. She was still young enough, and yet...

Is that why… Alethea tried to wrap words around her thoughts, Is that why you wish me to sit the Vigil?

I suppose so. Her father shrugged. I hear your prayers are always answered.

Not always the way she wanted, though. Alethea swallowed. So you would… you would rather I become a mediki than marry?

Her father pushed back his chair, scraping it upon the stone. I have some final business to attend to, Alethea. Finish packing.

Alethea kept her eyes on the stone floor as her father left. There was nothing left to pack; it wasn’t as if she kept her clothing in anything but a travel trunk. She wove her way through the tables in the great hall, pausing on top of the three long low steps that led into the courtyard to survey the place she called home.

Everything the manor house needed surrounded this courtyard. The stables, servants’ quarters, and storehouse made up the left wall. On the right was the family home, their shrine to The Lord of Light, and the kitchen. Directly across from her, the great gate faced the rising sun. Lesser gates marked the ends of the great hall, providing protection from predators while allowing breezes to cool the courtyard.

The broken shells of the circular drive crunched underneath Alethea’s feet as she crossed into the small grass patch. A few of the Duke’s hunting dogs sniffed about, wagging their tails as her hand trailed over their backs. There had been stories of Alethea and her mother staying with Duchess Stephana when Alethea was an infant, the toddling Count Eramaus protecting her. Alethea’s memories of Eramaus were quite different. He’d certainly not been protective when he had last visited.

Pushing those memories aside, Alethea sat upon the edge of the well which had been dug in the very center of the courtyard. Whether she became a mediki or not, Alethea was going to see a city. And if her father had spoken true, she might even travel from Valaora through the pass and to Archtheos, the Holy City of the Theodoroi Islands, and from there to The Holy Land.

Had she really been born during her mother’s pilgrimage to The Holy Land?

Alethea looked into the well as sunlight played upon the water. Reaching down to touch it, she realized that as tall as she was, she couldn’t reach it. At least not seated. She stood to lean over the stones but stopped. It was bad enough that she’d chosen the wrong gown to wear, leaning over would expose more of her than was proper. Not that father would have noticed. It was always Ada Mos who insisted she be proper. Alethea raised her head to the sky, eyes closed.

Lord of Light,

Guide me to the right choices.

Let me walk the dutiful path.

Illumine-me.

Twice now she had prayed on this day. With a great sigh, Alethea opened her eyes. The sun was peeking over the trees outside their home. Ada Mos would be after her if the caravan caught her in such a short dress. Rushing to her room, Alethea took the spiral stairs two steps at a time. She paused at her room door to catch her breath.

Tsk, tsk, Ada Mos scolded her from the inner stairway. How will you find a husband if you remain so wild?

Alethea bowed her head before the woman who had cared for her since her mother had passed away. Father asked I sit the Initiates Vigil. I don’t think he can find me a husband.

Ada Mos shook her head. He ought to, or his business will have no heir. She clucked her tongue. Though I dare say the death of his wife took all thought of marriage from him. Still, she pursed her lips.

The mention of Sofi’s death brought unbidden memories to Alethea. A floor stained with blood, the tiny twisted body of the unformed boy flashed before her eyes. Her mother's screams echoed in her ears. Alethea had prayed for The Lord to end her mother’s pain. But The Lord had taken her mother from her and she wondered if someday she would go the same way. That she would curse any husband to the same loneliness that had enveloped herself and her father.

Ada Mos stood on her tiptoes to pat Alethea’s shoulder. I suppose you would make a wonderful mediki. He may have already picked a likely lad to give the business to. But even still, Alethea’s nursemaid stepped aside, your father has at least provided you with adult’s clothing and you best wear shoes for once!

The scolding erased some of Alethea's memories. The anxiety of traveling with the caravan banished the rest. She supposed she would have to interact with them tonight, given that she would be traveling with them on the morrow. Stepping into the room, she surveyed it. There wasn’t much, really. The bed she had to share with the Duchess’s maid-in-waiting when Eramaus's family visited. It had been five years since their last visit, and rarely had the Duke been with them. So why was the Duchess moving in now? Not that Alethea would likely get an answer to that question.

Kneeling before the trunk she shared with Ada Mos, Alethea opened it. On top lay a crisp new chiton in pale mint, with the golden yellow trim that marked her as a count’s daughter. Tan sandals lay beside it. Should she wear those today? Or would it be better to wear one of her mother’s old chitons that she had spent the rainy