Chronicles of Contessa: Shadows of the Heart

The fight began, Andrastos was surprised at the speed of this man; his weapon spun like the winds at sea. A whistle like a lark in the morning air was the noise as Lucca heard it, and it was a formidable sound. Venator spun and his weapon twirled with him striking at Andrastos with great force. The white haired boy finally had a match, but perhaps it was too great for him, he was now dodging two ends of a spear but the bounty-man was always a step ahead.
With one end then the other and Andrastos would block, then Venator swept for his feet making the boy flip backwards almost weightlessly. Each strike of the weapons made the crowd flinch but their eyes would not wander. Even Lanzon was entranced and gripped his sword in the lust of the battle he leaned over to the prince.
“The white haired one is finished” Lanzon said calmly
“What?” Lucca suddenly asked
“He has no defense against this weapon, he fought well”
“He is the one I was speaking of, we must help him” Lucca said stepping forward but Lanzon’s heavy hand was rested firmly against the prince’s chest.
“It is not honorable to intervene in another’s fight, we shall wait” he told the young one.
Lucca grimaced and turned to the battle, Andrastos was tiring and he blocked with fatigue. He began to slip his movements, Venator swept his leg again and struck his joint with the blunt side of the spear. Andrastos fell to one knee and Venator was quick to make a stab forcing Andrastos to lean back missing the spike by mere millimeters.
Venator didn’t let the dodge stop his strike, he moved right striking the white haired boy across the face with the spear. Andrastos released his sword and rolled to the ground, he still had enough energy to flip himself upright with his hands and now stood a few feet from the mercenary.
Venator picked up Andrastos’s sword and tossed it to him, they circled each other again,
“They’ll give me more of a bounty if you are alive, last chance boy” the older man said his hood still masking his appearance. Andrastos spat angrily and Venator smiled beneath his hood in the dark, he lunged and Andrastos met the attack.
Venator pressed a small switch on the spear and separated it into two separate pieces at the middle. Lucca saw the white haired boy’s eyes widen from where he was standing, Venator slashed with the second piece while holding his other blade at bay. Andrastos stepped backward and Venator continued to pressure him with the two weapons.
Then in a single move Venator met the boy’s blade and parried it with both of his spears moving it this way and that as the metal was still connected. Then after toying with the boy’s blade he flung it away and he was at his mercy, Andrastos fell exasperated. Venator put his weapon back together and set himself for the final stab.
Andrastos watched his assailant prepare himself, Lucca moved forward but Lanzon kept his heavy hand on his chest. Venator made his move the stab went so slowly for Lucca had his new friend been killed so very soon?
The white haired boy moved left and caught the spear with his right hand, with his left hand he pressed the button and separated the spear again. Then spinning it so the spear was pointing at Venator he stabbed the bounty collector in the chest.
The crowd went silent at the turn of events, Venator’s gasps for air were loud enough for all to hear he stepped back and his spear inched out of his sternum. Warm blood flowed down the handle and covered Andrastos’s hands, he stepped further until the spear was out of his body.

He walked haphazardly away until his strength gave out and he fell to his knees, Venator fell slowly using his hands to escape his fate but gave up and rolled onto his back. His body relaxed and he let his last breath escape.

The bounty man was dead.

The crowd slowly left the square people dispersing, some cradling children and others merely walking as fast as their legs would carry them. Andrastos staggered back and struggled to keep his balance. Lucca stepped forward then ran to his new friend, Andrastos fell to his knee and Lucca caught him and helped him to his feet.
Lanzon walked over as well with his arms crossed, he leaned in and looked at the face of this young warrior.
“You must have seen some hard times to swing a sword like that boy, I suppose this will be where you and I part ways” the lizard said grinning looking at Lucca.
Lucca looked hurt all of a sudden, it had been many weeks with this warrior at his side.
“You have to leave?” the prince asked and Lanzon smiled again.
“I know you wish to be rid of me, we may fight against one another again… I believe you will become a great man one day, until that day though you will be a wastrel” Lanzon said with that grin still upon his face.
Lucca looked puzzled as Andrastos lost consciousness, Lucca laid him down for a moment and looked into the eyes of the lizard-man before him. Lanzon nodded at him, and Lucca nodded at the reptile. They shook hands firmly then bowed, Lanzon turned and walked into the crowd after a moment he completely vanished leaving only his memory and teachings with the young prince.
Lucca sighed, feeling he had said good bye forever. He picked up Andrastos and carried him to the hospital, holding the white haired boy’s sword with him. Sori greeted them and helped them to a room. As night fell Lucca felt his eyes grow heavy like they had never felt before. He rest his head against the pillow thinking on his kingdom he left and the family he had tried to forget.
He looked at Andrastos and wondered who he had left in his search for his true calling, Lucca let his eyes fall under the dark. He thought of Lanzon and the council of Brunelle… Brunelle… he wondered if he would ever see him again as well.

Lucca fell asleep, only to awaken in another time.

The rain fell softly as I approached the hill, next to the peak of the mound was a small tree that had always been there. It sat there reaching toward the sky, no leaves or source of life yet there it stood as it had always done. I remember looking out from the study and wondering why no one had removed it, this lifeless twig.
Yet it made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a very long time, the sense of home I suppose it was, nostalgia creeping across my skin. And some feelings were dwelling within me as I overcame the hill and looked on the castle, the years had been long and the stories immeasurable. The feeling of hidden anger and loss, not far from where I stood my father was being buried…


I smile to myself, knowing he will never again rise. The thoughts of my travels comforted me now, the battles.. the many battles… against the sorcerer in the field with Lanzon, the trials of the Shadow, the dragon guarding the crystal, returning my kindness to the witch in the wood. All of it was greater then staying in this land, tossed aside were my kin my family of daily training and etiquette… no.

It was meant to be this way.

The congregation was immense, hundreds upon hundreds as the casket lay in gold and white in the center of them all. My mask clung to me firmly and I could see very clearly, the rain adding again to the sadness in the air. The darkness of my cloak made me feel at home with the storm, in the calm of the hurricane eye, but out of place in such a time.
There she was, my sister standing quietly near my… my brother. My hand came to my face without me realizing it and touched the mask where my lips would be. He looked so very strong in his armor, and she looked so very beautiful with her golden hair, the young ones I left were now grown.
They had forgotten me, I thought, if they remembered they would become angry and who was I to blame them. Luckily for me my clothes and mask covered my identity hidden, my voice would cause shivers in all who heard it, masked by the sound of voices over a hill… indistinguishable. We were meant to be such.
The clothes were dark in the mass of people before me, the silence broken only by the fluttering of my cloak in the breeze. It had been raining the day of my mothers death, what sweet continuity of a funeral. Now then old man, what have you to say, you are cold as the ground my mother lays in, what things have to say of my future.. .it is mine.
I accomplished what I set out to do
“What have you to say?” I mutter to myself. I scowl at the dead man in the middle, the king of our land.
“And you…” I say looking at my brother who quietly places a flower on the kings grave.
“You who were weak now strong, I can hear the anger for me in your soul” I say to the air.
I pace back and forth looking at them, hating them, loving them and remembering all the days thinking of my fate at their hands.
“Make me a king” I say cursing the words, “make me a king, I am a king now, king of myself… let that lull you to sleep, the sword of a Shadow” I say more to myself.
They all bow at the coffin in the center as the last few place their flowers, the casket lowers and she cries my sister, lightly leaning into my brother.
“Cry for him?” I growl, “I wonder if you cried for me? … you who pulled at my cloak and longed for an embrace, I hope my distance made you strong” the more I say the more content I feel.
But something burns inside of me and makes it harder and harder to speak, I become weak and I place my hand on the tree’s limbs, the first time I had ever touched the tree.
My eyes are blurring, are they tears? Tears are for the weak, I cannot cry I am a Shadow.
“Father” I say my voice cracking, within my mask, the moist tears against my cheek.
“Just one more word… say to me once more that I’ll be a king so I can hate you again, give my life the reason to flee”
I knew he would not speak, never again would he speak to me death had stopped his plans for me…no… I had stopped his plans for me, I did it.
“It was for me father” I said, “understand this…” I said the tears falling freely.
My knees grew weak and I fell to them still clinging to the tree.
“I hate you!” I scream, my mask keeps the sounds within a few meters, “She deserved to live, not you!” I say thinking on the bones reaching to me in my dreams.
“Why am I crying for you!” but I knew the answer to that, in a way I had always known.

He loved me…

“Don’t” I said begging for the thoughts not to be true, he despised me he must have. Even in death he troubles my spirit, he has no words to call to me with and yet I am here on my knees so very far from him still.
“Don’t love me…” I say to my only witness the tree. I climb to my feet again, letting the tears fall more as it lowers beyond my sight.
Suddenly eyes are upon me, nestled in my brothers arms is she my sister looking at the hill where I stand. I return her gaze but my white mask covers my features. Her face is one of sad confusion and I dare not pique her curiosity, her tears fall like mine.
I turn and walk down the hill I climbed to see my castle, soon I will enter those halls again and attempt not to think on my father lest I reveal myself to my siblings.
“Father” I whisper as I walk the final tear falls, I pray I made the right choice. My life was not in vain, and yet my mind thought of only one thing.

For me to speak with him… one last time.

The halls are the same but dreary… the floor is the same but anguished. The drapes are of no color, though they were of a bright red when I had left, hanging from the roof like crimson tears. It was as though the castle wept at my return and I didn’t blame it, I abandoned it without looking back and within I smiled at my decision. I knew I had done right, I lived for myself and here I stand, a warrior of the Shadow fold and the greatest power in the land.
Others meant little to me, the outburst on the hill would be the last I swore to myself. Shadows are not social, nor even approachable… so many attributes I had already achieved before their magical cloak covered my earthly body. My steps were softer then a cat’s muffled paw, like wind passing over ones ear on a calm day and the carpet made me sound like a ghost in the walls.
The great hall drew closer to mine eye, how grand it still stood as the chairs of the council sat quiet as the stone. All the chairs were empty, silent… where were the members of council? Oh yes at the funeral no doubt. I walked about the outside of the circle, leering at the empty seats before me, and to think once they would have been mine to make demands to. Me at the high point where the stairs did climb to my ascending position above all others, the throne of Thosaea. But here I was before it, a king on my own terms knowing that no matter how high the throne did rise my spirit rose beyond it.
I stood in the middle now looking at that throne, another life stood before me one I cursed with all my soul, the one I fled from would never take control again. I pulled my sword softly and pointed the tip at where my head would have been and smile an evil smile.

“Who goes?”



A voice from behind the chair it comes out quickly but calmly as though he who spoke it knew who it was that lingered in the throne room. I say nothing, letting the speaker walk out from behind the vast seat. He steps down from the position of the ruler and stops, it is he, the one man who could only know who it was that smirked at him behind this white mask. He looks at me carefully from toe to head, his eyes slowly going over my still unsheathed blade.
I hadn’t realized I had it out, I sheath it in a movement of the Shadow and he looked somewhat puzzled at me.
“How is it you slipped past the gate? … answer me” he demanded.
“You… do not command me… your guards did not notice me more then they do their own shadow” my voice has sent chills up his spine, I can see it. My mask gives me the voice of a rising sound, like voices over a hill coming closer… and closer.
He steps forward but keeps his distance.
“Only those who are invited may step into these halls” he tells me.
“I merely wish to look on the halls a last time”
“Who are you?” he says, but deep within he surely knows the answer, “if you knew the king then you should be with the main galley”
“I knew the king once long ago… but I do not wish to linger here, not for him”
“Then leave” he says and my dark eyes fall on him.
From near another pillar a young man comes forth, his eyes still glassy from the tears for his father. My brother it is, Enea stands before me looking at Brunelle then me in my clothes of black and matching sword.
“Why did the gate not tell me of another arrival” he says forcing a smile and stepping down the steps. Brunelle holds his hand out telling Enea to stop and he does so, slowly and out of bewilderment. Brunelle keeps looking at my mask very intently, trying to see past the markings and magical porcelain of pure sallow.
I turn and step toward my old seat on the council nearest to the throne, the seat to the right on the steps to my left is Enea looking at Brunelle then me. My hand falls on the backrest and grips the wood firmly.
Enea walks to Brunelle and stands near him as I continue to stand there, for what purpose not even I truly know… reaffirming what my choices have done for my life.
“Declare yourself stranger” Brunelle says, “it is rude to keep your identity a secret in another’s house”
My sister has entered the room, with her eyes still wet like her brothers… even mine. She stands there with her darkest robes on her person, she looks at me with question and I meet her gaze. I expect my look to instill fear but she does not quiver and I am shaken this time, she has indeed become strong.

Don’t tell me… she is to be the Contessa.

She walks forward continuing to look at me and I move my body square with hers. She smiles at me.
“Who has entered my halls without my greeting?” she says and the galley keeps growing around me, the people from my past are now looking at the guise I where with uncertainty. She is before me now within a stab distance away… is that all I can think? My sister, she has grown… become the fancy of a boy, the smile for an aged man, the ruler of the nation… without me they have done so very well.


Was it for the best?, the silence continues, had I done right? Of course I had, the power was waiting for my grasp and none could stand in my way it was for me. It was all for me. Why then do I feel this way, that if I had never existed they would be this way… so much better.
The silence is all around me and they all look at me and wait for the answer,
“I am a member of the Lizaberian Shadows” I say, my voice frightening them all and in an instant Enea’s hand is on his sword and it is pulled slightly.
“It is not likely for Shadows to come uninvited to castles… they rarely even speak, what is it you want here?” Brunelle asks. Another silence and I walk back down the steps away from my sister and her eyes follow me nervously.
I stand not far from Brunelle and my brother and I am saddened, my father is dead and they do not care about me anymore, they never needed me. I calm myself and remember my teachings, pushing my emotions away with a breath and let the feelings evaporate and become nothing more then a small lingering thought. I face the way out but cannot find myself able to take another step, I feel I need to tell them something… the truth.
“Answer” Enea says looking at me sternly.
“Do you come with news?” Brunelle says, perhaps fearing me dead, the son of the king… Lucca who fled so very long ago.
“Brunelle?” Alexandria says suddenly looking about in a confused way.
“Fine…” I say and turn before them, “I come with news of someone you may know” I say and they all become very attentive.
Alexandria nears her chair and sits in it, Brunelle looks like he is going to burst into tears at any moment praying to himself that he wouldn’t be hearing another tragic tale of this family.
“I come with news of the one who left here a great long time ago, a kin to the boy and the girl, a man who left his destiny to find who he truly is having found the answer in the black blade of a land beyond our borders… he has fought witches and demons, a dragon and his fellow man, a sorcerer and his very self, the one called Lucca” I say and they all nearly jump at the sound of my name.
Enea looks as though he is fuming with inner rage, while Alexandria looks much like Brunelle, the tears holding back by will.
“What of him…?” she asks sorrowfully, Aisha walks nearby to prepare to comfort her, “what of my brother?” she says.
“He had journeyed far and heard of the death of Alessandro, he came over mountain and cave and fire and rock, through water and hate and denial and tears to return to the land that he fled from, not merely the land but his hatred” I say and they all watch me speak as though I were telling them the apocalypse was upon them. Alexandria was sniffing occasionally letting her tears fall freely now, Enea’s hand was shaking on his sword his eyes glassy from his tears as well.
“And now… he stands before you” I say and the room fall dead.
Brunelle takes his hand from his blade and looks at me, he has a silly smirk on his face that he knew it all along and was just now finishing his act. Enea’s tears fell quietly and he looked at me with all the hate my little brother could muster, I knew he hated me… I would hate me too. Alexandria stands she sobs lightly as the tears fall from her,
“Lucca…?” she says, barely… her voice is bursting with emotion. Enea pulls his sword fully and faces me.



“Leave…” he says, his emotions suppressed and now he looked like he would kill me if I shifted a mere millimeter.
“Go the way you came you filthy coward, you left… you chose your path, your selfish path! We could have all died but only father, oh I so thank all the heavens he didn’t have to see you a last time” He says, spouting words of utter malice.
I take it all in, let it envelope me… I still don’t know what I feel about him or this moment, I cried when I realized my father was truly gone, I had not become who I wished to be. Perhaps it was his dying wish, to let me stay in this uncertainty.
“Put your sword down” Alexandria says and he turns to her still angry beyond all reason.
“He left us! You were precious and young and he left you, he left all of us!” he lets his tears fall again, “he is not my brother! He can be yours if you must forgive him but I will not!” he turns back to me and points the blade at me, “if you stay… I will kill you!”
Alexandria comes down the stairs slowly her eyes still wet, she stands beside Enea who is sobbing almost uncontrollably and he drops his sword and the clang echoes in the room. She places her hand on his shoulder for a moment and walks to me, our eyes are not far apart. She stares at them I flinch slightly as she shows no fear but the sadness is all over her very face, that young face that would rub into my cloak when I was younger.
She looks deep into the mask, as though she didn’t believe my words, that I was her brother.
“Lucca?” she says her tears fall from her face and she shakes in my presence.
“It is me… sister”
“Lucca!” she cries and hugs me with so great a force I am nearly pulled from the floor, “Lucca!” she cries again hugging my cloak and holding me tight.
My hands move on their own slowly moving around her, my black gloved hands inching from repressed feelings and lost time. The aching thought of all those moments that were gone between us and still wished to be. My hands wrapped around her now I held her close as she sobbed into me, letting the tears fall and soak into my new form, my black wings that held this white angel. Such a clash and so perfect, yet so very wrong… what had I done?
She strikes my chest with her fist so weakly,
“Why so long… why did you leave me… I love you!” and the words silence my thoughts…
She cries into me like the time when she was young, a child who tugged at my cloak when she was afraid of another shadow coming to me for guidance. I offered her no such words, nor any in the short time I knew her. My mind was that of living my life my way, and trying to dodge the many impudent members of council; many times my eyes were not enough to sway their stares.
I was home.