Chapter 15
Aurora
Today, Aurora took control of her fate—and it began with a trip to the marketplace. But waiting for the sun to rise fully had left her far too much time to think in the weak, predawn light.
She had been shaken to her core many times since High Priestess Orithyia had pronounced her fate.
Nothing could have prepared her for hearing those words from Theron, exactly as Drakon had whispered them in her ears just a few months past. Even now, they made her sick.
Had Drakon known? Had he always known? Did he taunt her with her husband’s words as some sort of twisted game?
Aurora replayed every word Drakon had ever spoken to her in her mind. Every phantom touch had been meant to mimic a lover’s. Every threat had been laced with malice and twisted desire. As if it were some sick imitation of Theron.
She knew Theron was the first monarch to die in the first calamity. Would Drakon target him specifically because of her? Was his sick imitation just one more insult Drakon would throw in Aurora’s face as he destroyed all she held dear?
All she knew was that sometime between now and the end of the first calamity, Drakon would go from being a barely sentient beast to a malevolent force who knew both Theron’s past and hers intimately, using it to taunt her as he hunted her down for supposed crimes.
In pursuing the beast, in trying to slay it, would she inadvertently create the monster that would stalk her across the Tapestry?
In demanding Theron kill the beast, would she seal his fate as the first to die?
Did Drakon hunt Theron’s incarnation in every lifetime as well, preventing her from ever reuniting with him?
Would she merely be sowing Drakon’s vengeance, forced to reap it across the ages?
Aurora shook her head. No. She couldn’t accept that—couldn’t act as if such a thing were true.
If she did, then nothing she did now would change the future she experienced—only ensure it’s coming.
If she refused to act, then Drakon would most certainly become the Beast of Old.
Today, she would erase him from history altogether.
She touched the small missive delivered by a curious little bird that morning.
Hyllus would arrive in the palace today to help her slay the beasts.
Aurora held it up to the nearest flame and watched it burn to ash in the predawn light.
At least the attendants hadn’t insisted on watching her as she slept.
Over the past few days, Hyllus had sent her messages attached to the legs of songbirds.
She’d asked the attendants to supply her with seeds to attract more so that the one Hyllus sent her could be disguised amongst them.
She would read and write on her balcony and watch the songbirds come in, sending her attendants on one errand or another to fetch records, food, or some other bauble for her until she had a single attendant left.
Then she practised her magic on the attendants, freezing them for longer and longer periods.
Moments unwatched that she used to attach her own message back to Hyllus on the songbird.
She’d told him as succinctly as possible what had happened since they’d parted ways on the Queen’s Road and her plans to slay Batea’s beasts with Leukos’ help.
Today, Theron had agreed to allow her to visit the marketplace.
Leukos vowed he would take care of getting the Viridians free of the palace to join her, and from there they would march on Batea’s palace.
He’d told her there was no better time now that it lay unoccupied ever since some incident in the throne room a few days past.
In spite of their plans, Aurora’s insides felt like jelly. She’d practised all she could. All she could do was pray that it would be enough to hold Drakon still for Hyllus’ attack with the holy sword of Justice.
When her attendants found her awake, they rushed to get her ready for her outing the moment dawn had passed.
The spirits here in Aureum were liable to attack any who sought to travel outside their doors during the transitions of dawn and dusk, or so she’d been told.
She left her food untouched, unable to stomach a single bite with her nerves assailing her.
“Don’t be afraid, Your Highness. We won’t leave the palace until it is safe to do so,” a guard spoke.
Aurora blinked in surprise. Then did her best to hide her reaction. Hyllus had spoken true. He was here after all, his voice unmistakable though he wore a stranger’s face and dressed in the attire of an Aurean palace guard.
“Are the spirits here very dangerous?”
“Yes, Your Highness. No one dares venture out before dawn has safely passed in Altanus.”
She couldn’t imagine being effectively barred from leaving her home until after sunrise.
So much of city life happened in the dark before dawn.
Fishers brought in their catch, bakers pulled fresh loaves from their ovens, merchants readied their stock, to say nothing of the palace workers who had doubtless been up hours before to have everything prepared for their monarch’s rising.
It seemed strange to once again be reminded how different the ancient past was to her own time.
She’d gotten used to speaking the ancient temple tongue, to wearing their fashions, to walking through their halls.
Language, fashion, and architecture changed, but why had the spirits gone silent?
Where had they gone in the intervening millennia?
If she succeeded today, she might never know.
“It’s time, Your Highness,” Hyllus bowed, ushering her out the door.
As they passed through the halls and into the receiving chamber where nobles waited to attend court, Lady Ino approached her.
“Greetings to the star of Aureum. Not attending court today, Your Highness?”
“Maybe another day,” Aurora lied.
“That’s a shame. I was hoping we would see more of each other.”
Just the other day she’d been pawing at Theron to be his queen. Now she wanted to make friends?
“Were you?”
“Yes, Your Highness. If I may be so bold, you care little for the trappings of power, do you not?”
“I have more important things to see to.” Aurora folded her arms.
Like saving her and every other ingrate in the ancient past from the calamity about to befall them.
She always thought that heroes appointed by the deities were celebrated in their times.
She’d never considered how thankless such a fate would be until it had been hers.
At least she had Hyllus to stand at her side.
“Yes, of course. But the king will need a queen, one who works tirelessly for Aureum. One who would never stand in the way of your love for him. I hope to be that queen, if you would allow it. And if the day ever comes when I am made queen, I hope we can strike up a true friendship. All I ask is that you speak to the king about this matter.”
Triad’s tits, what a perfect vulture. Only their third time even being in each other’s presence and she was already insinuating herself into Aurora’s life, trying to claw her way up to Theron.
Aurora realized then how tired she was. Tired of this world in which she didn’t belong. Tired of the games these nobles played as the world around them burned. Tired of promises that were never kept. Of the heartache that gnawed on her innards day and night.
She didn’t need this. Didn’t need Ino. Didn’t need Theron.
She needed Fae. She needed to be back in her own time, where she belonged.
“I don’t make friends with snakes, Lady Ino,” Aurora replied before walking away.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Hyllus asked as the gates of the palace opened to allow them to exit.
“No. But thank you for asking,” she replied.
Guards and attendants surrounded her as she strolled through the ancient marketplace of Altanus.
Luxuries of all sorts lined the street. Scents of spices both familiar and foreign wafted on the breeze along with the mouthwatering scents of cooked meat and fresh bread.
There a merchant sold olive oil in pre-calamity-style amphorae that would tickle any scholar’s fancy.
Nearby, another sold priceless sea silk, gleaming golden in the sunlight—another treasure lost to the ages.
Everywhere she turned her head, both the scholar and merchant’s daughter in her found delightful treasure.
But now was not the time to get distracted.
“What about the others?” Aurora whispered to Hyllus.
“Leukos will take care of them,” he replied.
“You’ve been in contact with him?”
“Mmm,” Hyllus replied. “Now, act like a proper princess and start buying things.”
“O-oh. Right.”
This was the second part of their plan. For her to accrue so many purchases that they would need a few carts to carry them back to the palace.
Except Aurora had no idea what a princess bought at a marketplace for commoners.
Fae usually had the loftiest merchants come to her with their prize wares, not the other way around.
Aurora scanned the marketplace for the bulkiest goods, stopping first at a stall selling fine fabrics.
She touched them, entranced by the quality.
She purchased everything he had in stock.
Next was the vintner. Then the woman who sold fine olive oil.
Then the man who sold paper. Then to the toy maker to purchase toys for all the curious children who had taken to following her entourage through the streets.
She hemmed and hawed over the finely crafted jewellery on display and purchased the best of the lot.
Then to the man who sold horses and other beasts of burden.
Tapestries and paintings were next. As she did so, she purchased every scroll containing the written word she could find.
She’d thought that the palace attendants would stop her at some point, but every time, they merely handed over gold or wrote letters stamped with a seal ring and gave instructions to visit the palace for payment. They were beginning to run out of marketplace.