Fallen light, p.1
Fallen Light, page 1
Fallen Light
Katie Civitelli
Copyright © 2020-2021 Katie Civitelli
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798742304906
DEDICATION
To Mrs. Chordas and Mrs. DePonte from Nathan Hale Elementary, 2005, my fifth-grade teachers. You were the first to tell me I should be a writer. Thank you both for teaching me to never give up on it.
And to my mom:
You encouraged me to keep writing and dreaming no matter who told me otherwise.
This book is for you. I love you.
CONTENTS
DEDICATION
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE
EXCERPT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This story started off as something completely different and was originally only supposed to be one book. I, then, went through a hard time in my life where I was incredibly depressed and for about a year it sat on my computer. I, then, started reading A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas to grip me out of my depression and I loved it so much, it inspired me to look at this story once more. I have wanted to write a novel since I was ten years old and after taking a second look at my seven little chapters, an idea popped into my head and I completely rewrote them and this story was born.
I wanted to help people, who are grieving and going through pain, to know that someone out there understands how they are feeling and can sympathize with them; I wanted to show the signs of grief and the grieving process through a fictional fantasy story where anything is possible, and I could give imagery to go along with a feeling. Mainly, I wanted to make sure that the reader knew that they were not alone.
I would like, first and foremost, to thank God for giving me the time and idea for this story. The time was a gift I have not taken lightly, and the idea was something I deeply felt was necessary to write when I did. Everything worked out more perfectly than I could have dreamed, and I believe everything happens for a reason, so I know in my heart it was a gift.
This would not be possible without my amazing editor, Vangella Buchanan at The Writery Ink, LLC, who took one look at a desperate unpublished author and gave some really great writing advice that I incorporated into this novel, as well as the next two in the series. Vangella, your kind words, uplifting attitude, and editing skills go unmatched in my book. You have been incredibly patient as we go through this process and I am so grateful to have crossed paths with you. Thank you for helping me navigate the world of writing and publishing. I would not be where I am right now without you.
To my friend, Austin, of AustinCollinsArt: I always say it, there are no words for how amazing your artwork for this book is. I knew the vibe I was going for but had no idea how to make it into an image, and yet you nailed it. There was no question about who I would ask to do this artwork when the subject was approached, and I am so grateful that you agreed! The day you sent me the rough draft of the cover art, I had no idea what to expect. But when I looked at the image, I could not believe it. It was exactly what I was going for with the story. These will proudly be displayed on my walls forever. I am also grateful for our many years of friendship and that you and Amber welcomed me into your family with open arms. I cannot thank you enough for all that you do. Everyone needs to check out your artwork at @austincollinsart on Instagram because you, sir, are incredibly talented.
To my family, both blood and non-blood: thank you for the support you have shown me and my writing over the course of my life. Although there have been doubters, you know who you are who have always encouraged me and told me that I could make it someday. This book was born from that encouragement and I can never thank you enough.
To my boyfriend, Mike: “thank you” is not enough. Your support, your love and your constant faith in me blows my mind all the time. I was a girl who was more of a shell of a person than an actual person due to so many losses, and then fate brought us together. I still cannot believe you chose me, but I am grateful for it every day of my life. You have taught me to fight my own battles but are always there in the background, ready to pick me up if I fall. You tell me I can do anything, especially if it makes me happy. You make me laugh, smile, and drive me crazy, and if you had Fae-jumping powers, you would definitely take me by surprise just to get a rise out of me. But you have also pulled me out of my own banshee-wail shielding scenario many times; you have pushed through that barrier and never thought twice about it, just to save me. You are my everything and I love you.
To my friends: you are all so supportive and I am blown away. I cannot even begin to describe the pure joy your enthusiasm gives me.
To Amber: you are my soul sister. The connection we have is unmistakable and I am grateful to God every day for bringing us together. I swear we have a psychic link between us sometimes. You and your family have welcomed me as one of your own and I cannot express what that means to me. You are the Blanche to my Rose (because let’s face it, you are the hot one who tells it like it is and I am the one from St. Olaf who can be a tad spacey) though you are the least selfish person I know. Thank you for never giving up and for pushing through like the Queen you are. Thank you for always supporting me in every endeavor in life. I wish you knew how important you are but telling you in a book will have to do.
To Danae: I am forever grateful that we noticed that we had the same terrible phone in college or else we probably would never have realized how much we needed each other. We have been through so much in the years of our friendship and it has been a wild ride. Though we have been separated many times, we always come back to each other in the end; I think that is a rule in a true best friendship. You truly are such a gift to everyone you meet and your laugh is incredibly contagious. Thank you for your constant support. You have been, and will always be, the Burton Guster to my Shawn Spencer (where my Psych fans at?).
To Lauren: Girl, you are a saving grace to everyone who meets you. Your light emits from you like lightning and warms the souls of every individual who is lucky enough to call you a friend. Thank you for always being so uplifting and supportive and for always being there when I need you. When I feel like my life is falling apart, you remind me that it’s not and snap me out of it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, you beautiful human.
To those I have lost over the years of my life: Nick, Kimmy, Rob, Kasey, Pop, Alan, Grammy and Dad: Each of you is named in this because each of you is important. Without any of you in my life, I would never have known joy and love and laughter. With your deaths, as painful as they still are, this series would never have been written. I was taught a painful lesson in losing those I love, a lesson I will endure forever. And though I wish you were all still here, your deaths made me the woman I am today and made this story possible. You are a large reason why this series, hopefully, helps people in need of a friend as much as I needed to write it. As Kimmy once said, “If I can help just one person, then it was all worth it.”
To Sarah J. Maas, author of A Court of Thorns and Roses, Throne of Glass and Crescent City: Though I have never met you, you have helped me more than you could realize. I was severely depressed when my friend begged me to pick up A Court of Thorns and Roses, knowing that I would love it. I had lost my love of reading and writing for so long at that point and had no ambition to even get out of bed. However, your writing and characters entranced me, and I devoured that series in a week. A Court of Mist and Fury really pulled me out of my depressive state because I felt a connection to the characters who were broken and healing in that particular book. I felt as though I were healing along with them and it is a piece of what inspired me to write this series. You brought back my love of writing and I am eternally grateful for that. Your books have helped me and my friend through so many tough moments in our lives and we cannot thank you enough. If there is ever a day when we get to meet, I would love to tell you this in person. Thank you so much.
Prologue
“When the purest heart truly loves the darkest heart, the light will return and the world will be as one.”
Everyone remembers the Dark Days. The days when battles were faced with brutal ends, pitting brother against brother, father against son. The days that the Inner city of Inland felt its greatest defeat. And the day that their world would be changed forever. This day, the darkest day in their history, was the day the princes of Inland fought against one another in battle and were hencefor th divided forever. Thomas and Arthur, the Crown Princes of Inland, lost a part of themselves that fateful day. It is said that Thomas wanted to rule the city in a way different from their father, The King. Arthur, however, did not want to quarrel with his father over these matters, so he did as his father asked. Thomas pleaded with his brother to reconsider the terms of their rule, for even though the city was prosperous and full of light, the outer edges held a darkness that consumed the hearts of even the most valiant.
The Inner City of Inland was a beautiful city. Green pastures lined the dirt roads that lead into its heart, full of life bustling through the streets. Its markets were always overflowing with goods to sell and merchants that would travel from distant continents, all surrounding the Palace of Light. The Palace was an overwhelming residence, with its large towers that spiraled upwards toward the sky, painted blue and white with star-like features glowing against the sun’s rays during the day. It was nothing short of magnificent. Inside, it housed the whole royal family with enough room to sit multitudes of servants and staff. But no matter the beauty of such a place, conflict was never far during these days. The outer edges struck fear into the residents of Inland; a black cloud hung over the sky and mist covered the roads leading to the broken-down buildings. A sickness was upon the land, some would say, although no one knew for sure where it had come from or why it had lingered. The buildings, once part of the beauty of Light and the ancient Fae, had become consumed by the darkness raging above, and deteriorated. Moss had become overgrown on the sides and the streets were cracked and perilous. It was said that creatures of the dark lived in this area, some who were once members of Inland’s great society, corrupted by the mist. But these were just rumors spread amongst town folk who loved the gossip about such things.
Arthur wanted to help his brother, and he understood the good intentions in Thomas’s heart, but he also did not want to endure his father’s wrath as Thomas had. So, Thomas went to his last extreme; he rose an army against the Crown. It was well known that Thomas had visited the outer edges of Inland more than once. Some people had said that the Darkness was starting to control his mind, but Arthur knew it was only to reach the people who were banished there for crimes against the Crown. What started as a wonderful thing turned into a nightmare. Looking out his window, Arthur saw the army of those who were banished coming toward the palace, led by his brother, the Prince. His heart ached at this sight. This was his brother. His flesh and blood. His children’s uncle and father to his nephew. In that moment, he remembered the last thing his brother had said to him:
“Arthur, remember these words, for you know I speak truthfully. The Banished will rise and take back their lives and the world will endure in endless battle. But, when the purest heart truly loves the darkest heart, the light will return and the world will be as one.”
These words spoke of a prophecy that was told to the princes when they were just boys. Arthur never imagined that it was real, or that it would come true. And as he watched the Banished come through the town, he rallied the royal army and pushed the Darkness back to the outer edges of the city. It was there that what would be known as the Darkest Day officially happened. A perimeter was made around the Inner City of Inland, separating the dark from the light so to speak. And looking his brother in the eye, holding back tears from what had happened between them, Arthur banished Thomas and his family. And from that day forth, the outer edges of the city were known as the Backlands, ruled by a people so evil and full of hatred, that anyone who ventured there would never return to the light. And the two princes never spoke to each other again.
Chapter 1
On the borders of Inland’s Inner City, there was a small village that held about one hundred people at the most. This was a village that did not have much money and the villagers often made their living selling livestock or trading fruits and vegetables during the growing season. The village was mostly farmland with small, flat-topped houses positioned close together made up the edges of the dirt roads. The people of this village were simple, not bringing much attention to themselves and were in good standing with the royals of Inland due to their laid-back nature. Some of the residents were even employed at the palace itself on a day-to-day basis. They were leery of the Backland border, which was close to the wall surrounding the outermost edge, a gift from the king himself as protection, and many would try to avoid even the wall itself as to not get taken away by the mist that swirled through the dark.
However, if anyone was ever up for an adventure, it was Freya, a village girl of nineteen years old. Those in the village would say she was as plain and ordinary looking as anyone. She had long black hair that would hang in a braid along the side of her neck, a shorter, slender pale figure, due to her lack of income to feed herself, which in turn usually had her stealing just to hold herself over day to day, however, her most striking feature were her blue eyes, blue as the ocean water, her father used to say. Those blue eyes were always wild and bright with adventure. She would climb to the top of the tallest mountain or jump on the roofs of the houses in the village, since they were so close together. She once scared her friends by staying underwater for more than two minutes. If adventure were anywhere to be found, Freya would be the first to find it. She was not afraid of anything, most would say. She was known to have the purest heart and the fiercest courage that anyone had ever seen. But she had not always been this way.
When Freya was a little girl, she feared almost everything. Although she and her family had high standing with the royals, she was picked on by the boys and girls in the village, with the exception of her two best friends, Amelia and Rem. Anytime one of the boys would jump out at her from behind a building or a girl would pull her hair until she was flat on her face, Freya would run home to her mother, crying. Her mother would hold her and rock her and sing her a lullaby that she would claim was “written by the faeries.”
Sleep sweet, little one.
Close your eyes and dream of stars,
For they watch over you
And they guard your little heart.
Sleep sweet, little one.
Close your eyes and drift afar.
The song itself was a simple one, but it was the most beautiful thing to hear her mother sing. She had the voice of a nightingale, so soothing that it would relax your whole body and you would float away into your dreams. Freya once asked where her mother learned the song, and she would smile and reply, “I knew the faeries once, Little Bird, and they would sing to me when I was lost or when I was sad. They would tell me to look at the stars and make a wish. And that wish would keep me safe.”
And after all of that, Freya would fall asleep in her mother’s arms. Until one afternoon, she came home to find her father and the doctor from the city standing outside of her door. Sheer panic arose in her as she slipped into her mother’s room, unnoticed, for she felt as though something was wrong; she felt it in her heart. She took her mother’s hand in hers and asked what was wrong.
“Mama, are you sick?” she asked.
Her mother gently squeezed her hand and smiled.
“Yes, child. But everything will be ok.”
“But Mama, you are going to get better, aren’t you?”
Tears filled both of their eyes as her mother looked down at her sweet child, sitting next to the bedside, afraid.
“I am going with God now, Little Bird. He is taking me up into the clouds where I can watch you grow every second of every day. I will always be watching you, until the end of time.”
It was then that Freya’s mother looked deep into her daughter’s eyes and told her something she would never forget.
“Freya, do not be afraid. Never be afraid. For when you are, the Darkness is sure to take hold. Always be a child of the light. I will always be with you, holding your hand every single day, so there is no reason to ever be afraid. I love you more than life itself, my brave little girl. Never forget.”
And she never did. The only time she would feel a sense of what she considered uneasiness was at night, when her nightmares would start. She would dream of fire and of her mother scooping her up into her arms as they ran. Everything else was a blur, except for a child. A little boy, who was there and then gone in an instant. She would always wake in a cold sweat when she would have this dream, her pillows soaked through. She never knew what it meant, but it would keep her awake for days at a time. She once asked her father about it, asking him if it were normal to have these dreams. He looked at her with suspicion, but simply told her that they were nothing and that she should not take much stock in them. But she noticed him become tense and rigid when she had asked and she decided to never ask again. He had been through too much in his life, and she did not wish to upset him further, no matter what the dreams meant. When she turned thirteen, her father died suddenly during a routine stall mucking. The doctors could not figure out what had happened, but deep down she knew. He had died of a broken heart. It had been coming for many years. He was never the same after her mother passed, no matter what she would do to make him smile. He lived for her, but a piece of him died with her mother. And after some time, she guessed his heart could not take the sorrow anymore.
