Chapter 4
Sage
B eams of light shot down from the heavens. They were like the blade of a mighty sword, piercing the fog, forcing it to fall to its knees, to surrender to the light’s mighty ruler—
The sun.
Moonbeam, a regal voice whispered in my ear, the word echoing through the blank expanse of my thoughts.
I was puzzled at that. Moonbeam? There was something familiar about the word, something I couldn’t quite—
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the Capital,” Imari said, her hair dancing behind her, caught on the melody of the whistling wind as she flew.
The wind. Something twisted inside me. Something strange.
“Same,” Nemtuk responded, swallowing harshly.
I looked over his shoulder, marveling at the mountainous female statues that began to emerge all around us.
They were towering, glorious sculptures that stood in splendor, gilded in divine femininity, from their curvaceous frames to their long, flowing hair.
They were so incredibly lifelike, it almost looked like the bottom of their gowns were waving in the wind.
In one hand, they bore a sword, raising it in victory.
In the other, they held a severed head—all of which were . . . male .
“It is a testament to the empress’s might,” Imari observed, conjuring a small nod from Nemtuk as he stared at the stone giants, his eyes impossibly wide.
Down below, extravagant streets framed by opulent temples stretched on for miles.
The temples glistened in the sun’s caress, their glass-like exteriors varying in design and colors from one to the next.
Some of the structures had fluted columns stretching from base to ceiling, and others had ornate spires that pierced the sky.
They were all so different.
But it was what they were made from that linked them all together—
Crystals . Some were citrine in color while others appeared to have been forged from rose quartz or amethyst. Some were darker, as if their walls had been filled with wisps of twirling smoke.
“What do you think the goddesses do in those temples all day?” Imari asked, her voice dropping just above a whisper.
Nemtuk pondered her question for a moment.
“Probably boss their slaves around.” A small smile brimmed on his gray lips, showing off his sharp, pointed teeth.
“Go get me another glass of wine,” he said, his voice shifting to a snobbish tone.
“I’ve only six hundred cups today and I am in dire need of another. Hurry now.”
Imari chuckled then sighed. “Must be nice.”
“I imagine it is,” he said, the smile fading from his lips as he looked skyward.
“You have nothing to fear,” Imari reminded him.
“You’re right,” he breathed, giving a small, firm nod.
“Come on,” she directed as her wings clapped downward, the tips almost touching as she left the current she had been riding and began to fly higher.
Nemtuk followed behind her.
When the world faded below, a new one began to emerge.
Nestled in the embrace of the heavens was a floating mass of land, the bottom full of colossal formations that looked as if they were mountains flipped upside down.
The mountains were imperfect, broken, and jagged—like they were missing parts of themselves.
It was as if they had been rooted to the ground hundreds of feet below and brutally torn from it in a fit of rage.
Once we reached the other side, it was like seeing the other half of a coin.
The craggy stone shot up into mountains in the middle of the island, a sea of cerulean surrounding it.
The shimmering waters were calm and serene, gently brushing against the lip of the landmass but never tumbling over.
Raised above the sea were dozens of pathways, all of them stretched from the edge of the island to the very middle—to celestial buildings that surrounded an unfathomably opulent palace, forged from opal stone.
Light refracted off the glistening walls, the pastel colors dancing and shimmering as we flew closer.
It was something out of a fairy tale, it’s grandeur beyond comprehension.
We landed at the foot of the grand palace’s crystal doors, and like the rest of the impressive structure, they towered before us.
Above them, ancient symbols were carved into stone—a language, one I could not read, at least, not at first. But the longer I studied the strange markings, the less foreign they became.
The Celestial Opal Palace, home of the Great Empress Avena, Protector of all Femalekind.
Movement captured my attention, pulling it back down to the doors.
On them, two carvings appeared, depicting a smiling female and a towering, beautiful male—the most gorgeous one I had ever seen, a truth I was certain of.
Crowns, crafted from bones and burning with a dark, shadowy flame, floated above their heads.
The male wrapped his strong, powerful arms around her as he softly kissed her neck.
She guided his ringed fingers to her rounded belly, filled with the gift of life.
Roses bloomed around them, intricately linked by winding vines.
They were happy . . .
So very happy.
A feeling, one I had no name for, kicked at my numbness—like a fist knocking against a door. Although it might have been closed, I could hear it as it pounded away, screaming to be let in .
“It’s eyes are leaking,” Nemtuk said in astonishment, his voice plucking me from my thoughts.
Imari came closer, peering down at me. “Have you ever seen this before?”
“Never,” Nemtuk answered with a slow shake of his head. “The connection between soul and vessel is severed, and yet, somehow, they are still tethered.” With a curled, claw-tipped finger, he dabbed at my face, sweeping up the tear. He studied it.
“It’s rather peculiar,” Imari said, her attention shifting to the door. “Do you think it showed her something?”
“It very well could have.” Nemtuk nodded before his expression turned sheepish. Subtly, he probed, “Do you see anything?”
“I do,” Imari answered. “I see myself, standing in front of an applauding crowd, accepting a blessing from Empress Avena.” A smile caressed the corners of her heart-shaped mouth. She looked at Nemtuk. “What do you see?”
His eyes drifted to the door, and his expression turned sheepish. “I’d rather not say.”
“You see me, don’t you?” she teased, letting out a soft laugh.
“I do not,” he blurted out.
“Welcome to Avolonia. The Doors of the Heart’s Desire are quite something, are they not?
” asked a female voice as she strode through the closed doors.
She was small in stature, but the way she carried herself, the certainty in her step, the upward tip of her jaw, spoke otherwise.
She wore a silk robe, dyed the same color as the sky above.
A leather belt wrapped around her petite waist, and from it hung a small cloth pouch and a rabbit’s foot.
A strip of white paint ran across her face, passing over her wine-colored eyes. Her hair fell in gentle waves.
At her approach, Imari and Nemtuk bowed their heads, but it was Imari who said, “Yes, Priestess Avriel.”
The priestess’s eyes slid to mine, her brows raising ever so slightly. “You have traveled all this way to deliver just one soul? How come?”
“Because, it seems to be, well . . .” Imari paused for a brief moment. She leaned in and whispered, “Awake.”
The priestess shook her head. “That can’t be.”
“I would not lie to you,” Imari spoke swiftly. “Please, take a look.”
Hesitant at first, Priestess Avriel looked from Imari to Nemtuk, who still had his head bowed, then back to me. She took one step closer, eyes roving over my limp carcass as if I were some strange, dangerous specimen.
Then, she peered deeply into me.
Suddenly, she let out a gasp. “The soul is awake! Come. Quickly.” Avriel turned swiftly, her heels clicking loudly as she charged toward the entrance.
Imari took my vessel from Nemtuk. In a silent goodbye, the two exchanged looks rather than words. Imari turned and carried me toward the doors—the man and pregnant woman still present.
Inside the palace, the soft, melodic tune of a harp echoed off the cavernous walls, accompanied by a beautiful female voice that harmonized with the enchanting instrument.
Statues, similar to the ones I had seen before but much smaller, were carved into the walls.
Females, a medley of ages and species, lined the hallways, their whispered conversations stalling as we passed by them.
One with the face of a cat caught my attention.
She stopped licking her paw as her slit pupils fell on me.
Her ears shifted backwards, her eyes widening.
“Open,” Avriel commanded as we approached another set of doors.
Two charcoal-skinned women, dressed in sleek, white robes tucked beneath silver armor, nodded in response. With a wave of their claw-tipped fingers, blue magic swirled into the air, curling around the cylindrical handles and pulling the doors open.
When Imari stepped through them, the world exploded in brilliant light.
It shone through the thin vaulted ceilings, through the opal structure, sparking pure magic before my very eyes.
A ballet of greens, pinks, purples, and reds.
It was like the Northern Lights had been brought inside, the colors dancing with one another as if they were alive.
Elegant tapestries hung from the ceiling.
A woman who possessed beauty unlike I had ever seen before was featured in each one.
Her hair was spun of gold, her eyes the color of freshly bloomed lilacs, her skin a rich ivory encased in a golden glow.
Although she was the focal point, the story told in each tapestry was different.
Some spoke of reverence, while others told of great victories.
At the far end of the room was a dais. Upon it sat a mountainous throne forged from the same dazzling gemstone as the rest of the palace—
An opal throne.
The throne was enchanting, but the giant who sat upon it was beyond compare.
She was stunning .
An intricate, ornate crown, forged of crystals, sat upon her gently floating blonde hair.
Her body was a rich landscape made of feminine curves, the dips and valleys outlined in the colors of a dawning sun.
That same glow encased the exquisite gown she wore, surrounding her completely in the light of divinity.
The wispy, pastel-green fabric of her sleeves draped downward, spilling past the throne onto the polished floors.
She was no mere woman, nor was she just a goddess. She was the mother, the ruler, the beginning and the end, all of which had been featured in the tapestries that surrounded this incredible room.
She was—
“Empress Avena,” Priestess Avriel said with great reverence as she and Imari dropped to bended knee, just before the dais.
A dozen shirtless, masked men lounged around the empress’s throne—their bodies chiseled with muscle, their sleek skin glistening with oil.
Some of them were giants, just like the empress.
Some held gold platters, trays chock-full of food—fruits, breads, cheeses, and various meats.
Two held wine jugs. The other ones simply stood there, their masked faces fixed on us.
The masks looked like they were made of iron, each one different—some had been inspired by the faces of animals, while others looked more demonic with wicked horns.
Horns.
The empress had a pair as well, but hers were antlers. They were beautiful. Majestic. The ivory bone elegantly curled up and out, stretching into multiple polished points, like branches of a tree. Intricate gold chains draped from them, linked to teardrop-shaped diamonds.
The giant’s gaze roved from the priestess to Imari and then to me. Her eyes flared wide, and the huge goblet slid from her hand. It struck the stone floor, the sound louder than thunder. Wine sprayed out everywhere, dousing one man’s leg and foot in dark-red liquid.
He didn’t move an inch.
He didn’t even look.
He just remained there, perfectly still.
Slowly, the empress stood, her attention fixed on me, while mine was drawn to her wrist. On it, a thick cuff crafted from gold and decorated with an ancient dialect—the words worn by the caress of time.
Although it was lovely looking, something about it felt .
. . off. The empress’s hand stretched toward the arm of her throne, her fingers not quite touching, but ready to grab hold in case she needed it for balance.
“I knew this day would come, I just never imagined it would take so long.” Her voice was like velvet—smooth, rich, and alluring. “But now that it has, it is almost hard to believe,” she remarked to herself. “I have so many, many questions.”
Silence swallowed whatever time passed next.
No one dared make a sound .
She glanced to one of the masked men, gesturing to the spilled wine, and said, “Clean this up.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he spoke in his deep timbre—warm and enchanting.
He was muscular and tanned, his hair blond and curly.
With a wave of his hand, a bucket and a mop appeared beside him, sudsy water sloshing over the brim.
With a swirl of his finger, the mop lifted from the bucket and began to scrub the floors.
The empress turned her attention back on us. She began her descent down the stairs, her gown trailing behind her. As she moved toward us, her body became smaller, stopping when she was about six feet tall. Reaching us, she commanded in her regal, enchanting tone, “You may rise.”
Swiftly, Imari and the priestess stood.
The empress looked at Imari. “How did you find her? Were you alerted to her passing into this realm?”
Imari shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. Somehow, this soul must have slipped through the screening system. I did not realize she was of importance to you. Otherwise, I would have flown much fas—”
“Silence,” the empress cut her off. “All that matters is that you found her and brought her here. For that, you will be rewarded.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Imari said, bowing.
The empress gave a regal nod of her head, before her eyes shifted to mine. “She is conscious,” she said, although, unlike the others, she did not seem surprised.
“Yes. That is why we knew to bring her to you,” Imari said. “We knew she was different. ”
“She is,” the empress assented.
“Who was she?” Priestess Avriel asked, taking a step forward.
“The question is not who was she, but rather, who has she become? It is a question we must gain an answer to, swiftly. There is one person who can help us with that. Follow me,” the empress said before she started for the doors.