Chapter 14 #4
Perhaps he should visit the Dragon’s Spine Mountains sooner rather than later. Between his courtiers and the angry spirits, he would take the spirits any day. But he had put off this confrontation as long as he could. His courtiers had already arrived, and daylight was wasting.
As he stood from his seat on his balcony, an attendant came to his side to deliver a message.
“Your Majesty, Dia has woken.”
His heart leapt with guarded hope. Maybe there was something about this day left to salvage.
“I will go to her. Tell Polydorus to delay the beginning of court a little longer.”
When he arrived at her simple room, Dia was sitting up in bed, looking so very unlike her usual self. She looked smaller, frailer—less than she ever had before. Was it the loss of her divine magic, or had the events taken their brutal toll on her, body and soul?
“Dia, I want you to tell me everything you can about your ring. Did you ever take it off? Was there ever a time when it was out of your sight? If so, when? Who was the seal-carver? Please, give me something to prove you are not a heretic.”
“That was my ring,” she said, her eyes widening in shock with Theron’s own.
“Dia, what are you saying?”
“No, no, Your Majesty, I am a heretic!” She gasped, touching her fingers to her lips, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said as much.
“Why, Dia? How?”
“Theron, please, there’s no mistake! Ah!” she cursed, gripping the sheets in her hands. She touched her lips again, her gaze unfocused. “Come,” she said, getting out of bed slowly and shuffling towards the window. She motioned for him to follow.
He went to her side and bent his head.
“Dia, please don’t speak anymore. I can’t protect you like this,” he whispered, desperate to stop her from digging her own grave.
“The sky!” she said, pointing.
“What of it? Have you read an omen?”
“It is green! Green.”
The sky was a great many colours. Blue mixed with the yellows, pinks, and oranges of a sunrise, but it most certainly wasn’t green. He looked at her, bewildered. Had she lost her mind when she’d lost her magic?
“Your hair is blue.”
“Dia, you’re not speaking sense. Did you injure your head?” he asked, his magic curling around her skull, looking for damage. He could find none but a few old bruises, scrapes and sunburns, and as his magic sank into her skull, he found no obvious reason for her befuddlement.
“Your Majesty, listen. The sky is green. Your hair is blue. I am a young maiden of eighteen summers. This is the kingdom of Niveum. You are a Gilvan merchant, and your wife is a peasant from Roseum. Understand?”
He most certainly did not understand. She was speaking complete nonsense. Had the loss of her magic fractured her mind?
“There is always something more at play when Passion dyes the thread connecting two lovers. Fate connected you. Passion smiled upon you. You are a great fool if you never stop to question why. Why you, out of everyone in the whole of this vast world, Theron?”
He once worried the only reason he was connected to Aurora was to see her beast slain.
Now he was convinced it was to cure her madness.
And in so doing, perhaps he could cure Dia too.
Perhaps the goddesses had gifted him the chance to leave a legacy that would save thousands of lives in this time and in the centuries to come.
Theron touched Dia’s shoulder and smiled kindly at his old tutor. He would save her mind. He must. He owed her so much.
“I understand, Dia.” Theron leaned down to kiss her head. “Say no more. I will cure you. For now, rest.”
As he left her room, he tried to push through the weight on his chest. Seeing her like that, her mind shattered, it was almost too much to bear. He’d always assumed she would be nettling him with her witty barbs until her last breath.
Theron turned to the guards and attendants trailing him. He needed a moment to breathe. A moment alone.
“Leave me. I will pray before I attend court.”
His retinue backed off as Theron navigated the halls of his palace to the inner sanctuary.
He knelt before the statues of the Triad.
Though the effect of Their presence was much reduced compared to the presence he felt in Their temples, Passion, Justice and Knowledge were here, Their eyes upon him.
Thankfully, someone had laid out wine, food, and fresh flowers before the miniatures. A bribed goddess was a happy goddess.
Please, grant me the time to heal her mind.
Please, don’t let her die in this reduced state.
I will do what you require of me. I will discover a way to heal shattered minds.
Just please don’t take my wife or my tutor from me before I’m able to save them.
If you do this, I will lavish your temples with gold and see your clerics want for nothing.
Prayer complete, he rose, bowing deeply before leaving the sanctuary. But as he braced himself for court, a palace attendant raced forward and prostrated himself before Theron. His heart dropped to his knees.
“Your Majesty, the Viridians are attacking Batea’s kennels!”
Whatever calm he’d managed to grasp hold of disappeared entirely.