Page 1 of A Light So Blinding
One
Astrid
Priestess of high regard,
It has come to our attention that you are seeking your lost sister. Rose is safe with us, but we need your help if you ever wish to get her back.
There is a troll locked in that labyrinth. We’re aware of it, yes. There are those in this kingdom who know the dark desires of your king and all the terrible deeds he is willing to do to satisfy his own malicious desires.
A troll with horns and dark green skin, that is who we want.
We offer you a trade. Your sister, for that troll.
Otherwise, we will do with her as we see fit.
Signed,
King Egil, son of Olaf Witch-Breaker
The words flickered in candlelight that made the ink seem illuminated through the thin paper. Astrid stared at the letter in her hand and didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry. Countless letters had been sent to her just like this throughout the years—people who swore they had seen Rose. Some had told her they were the only ones who could bring her sister back. Stories that always led her down a rabbit hole to nowhere.
But no one had ever claimed to be a troll before. At least this person was original.
Although... she hadn’t the faintest idea who would dare to mention the labyrinth so glibly, or who would even know about it. The king was very secretive, and hand chose which nobles and their families were allowed into that dark place.
Staring at the paper in her hand, she had to notice as well that it wasn’t the same texture as the paper she was used to. Sure, it could all be planned to make her think this had actually been sent by trolls. But there were claw marks at the edge, and the writing was harsher, almost rudimentary, like the person wasn’t used to writing at all. And then there was the smell, almost musty, like it had been written in a cave.
A knock on the door resounded throughout her room, and she jumped. Astrid whirled toward the door as though expecting someone to walk into the room at any moment and see her clutching a letter fromtrolls.
“Our lord would like to see you!” A feminine voice drifted through the door. “He said to tell you he has little patience today.”
Of course he had little patience; the man never had such a thing. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted. Such was the life of a rich man.
Standing, Astrid realized that her room was unfortunately in chaos. She’d been so wrapped up in her studies, remembering all the names of all the nobles and making sure that she memorized all their secrets, that she hadn’t cleaned in weeks. Her bed was piled high with all the silk and satin dresses that had been delivered a week ago. Her dresser was similarly drowning. And then, of course, her mirror was nearly entirely covered by the veils that would hide her face from all those who might dare to look at a priestess standing with her nobleman.
“He’s not patient today?” she shouted, rushing forward to at least grab a reasonable veil. And then she saw herself in the mirror.
“Damn it,” she hissed under her breath.
“I’d even go so far as to say he’s angry,” the priestess on the other side said. “You had better hurry. What is taking you so long?”
Her hair was wild. Her eyes were sunken and hollow. She looked like a wraith, and that wouldn’t do. Lord Tolly prided himself on beauty at all costs. He made sure that everyone knew his power and wealth simply by what he surrounded himself with. He’d take one look at her and send her away.
Frantic now, she rushed for her desk and picked up the paper that very well might have been the only connection to her sister that she would ever get. She read it one more time, her eyes dancing over the strangely scrawled words, and then held it to the candle on her desk.
It didn’t take long to light on fire, nor did it take long to burn. Astrid kept hold of it until the very last second and then dropped the paper onto the floor, stamped out the last bit of flames and kicked it under her desk.
“Help me!” she shouted. “Come in and help me!”
The door opened, revealing a much younger priestess, who had just joined their sisterhood. Her name was Marten, astrange name for a woman, but she was pretty enough to be here. Her blonde hair gleamed in the candlelight that made her horrified gaze turn red.
“Priestess!” Marten said, her hands flying to her mouth. “What happened to you?”
Stress. She had a lot riding on her shoulders at all times because she was the closest priestess to Lord Tolly, and there were many things expected of her. Political meetings, knowledge of everyone attending, meetings with other priestesses and bartering secrets, not to mention keeping all of it straight for a lord who loved his alcohol more than his own people.
Gesturing with her hand, she ushered the younger woman into the room. “Enough with that. Just help me get dressed.”
“Yes, yes, of course. I will do my best.”
