Chapter 3 #2
“I’m sorry, Ophelia,” she began. The rest of her words reached me as though from the opposite end of a tunnel. “There doesn’t appear to be enough evidence from the logical perspective.”
Logic. Rina said present facts. My mind raced to gather them, but the conversation continued over me.
“Must every decision be made from a logical stance?” Meridat asked.
“My people don’t worship our Angel in the same way you do, Meridat.
Neither do we hold allegiance to the Goddess of Death, like you; though I’m sure Artale appreciates your vote to support Ophelia.
Our decisions are practicum fatale, a pillar of our practice.
” Brigiet swallowed, but fixed her round eyes on me, apology thick in her voice. “I’m sorry about this.”
The meeting was slipping away from my control.
“Titus?” I stalled as I gathered arguments for Brigiet. Facts. Proof of my accolades and my ancestors’ before me—
But when I turned to the Starsearcher, his grim nod froze my efforts.
“I’m aware many of you don’t understand the nature of Starsearching. Our readings are handed to us, much as the Soulguiders’ predictions of spirit deliverance are passed down from their Angel and Artale, but we deal in larger fates than one particular soul.
“Envision a map, with routes such as those drawn by a Master of Trade.” Titus rose, speaking thoughtfully as he walked to the open wall, his hands behind his back and three-pointed dagger in his belt.
“Every possibility—infinite futures—are mapped by celestial hands and turned over to my clan by the Angel Valyrie, the Fates, and the Celestial Goddess through our use of incense and tinctures. We can’t choose what we read; it is the path that a warrior’s current course puts them on.
“Last night, when I read at the Sacra Temple in the city…I saw destruction.”
The word echoed down my bones, shocking my frame, but I tightened my hold on the Revered mask.
“What kind of destruction?” Meridat asked.
Titus met my eyes over his shoulder. “The heavens did not speak of how; they did not deign to share their understandings with me.” His lips twisted to the side as if he was unsatisfied with the higher power.
“But they showed me we are on the brink of darkness. Gallantia, Ambrisk—all are threatened.”
Threats. Darkness. Destruction. My hands clenched. I scratched the Curse scar on my wrist, searching for something to steady my nervous energy.
Control yourself. Do not react. It is a test. I had to remain in one piece, the face of strength and capability.
“And what does this have to do with my appointment?” I asked.
“Because”—he turned now—“when I enacted the power of the Angel Valyrie—when the prime Starsearcher transferred this warning to me—it was your face I saw among the darkness, Ophelia Alabath.”
The mountains could have crumbled around me, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Not over the deafening roar in my ears, the way my bones were splintering under the weight of his reading.
Annellius’s words during the Undertaking came back to me: Your blood is strong enough to cause and end wars.
Titus’s reading swooped over me, snuffing out every bit of fortitude I’d worked to instill in myself. He took a breath, preparing to drop the final proclamation that would shatter my resolve entirely.
“It is for that reason that I cannot give my support for your appointment as Revered, Miss Alabath.”
Vaguely, I was aware of the uproar the chamber erupted into, but I thought I might collapse. Fate said darkness was entwined with my future, and I was useless against it.
Voices rose. Ezalia and Meridat argued with Titus, imploring him to read again, but their words were a dull buzzing in my ears. Aird was straightening his cloak, ready to flee the chamber. Brigiet still examined that map in her own contemplative silence.
The Starsearchers and Mystiques had a history of amiable relations. Until now. Until me. Because whatever the stars wrote for my future—it was a promise of shadows and fury. Defeat gripped my bones, dragging me into the despair I’d barely fought my way out of.
I couldn’t even earn alliances.
I’d thought—I’d hoped having this position would brighten the stain of betrayals I’d suffered. Would give me a purpose after being aimless for years, but perhaps Aird and the stars were correct. I was barely an ascended warrior—
Not fit for rule.
Just as I had the thought, my core guard surrounded me. Chocolate-brown eyes swam before my own, Tolek stooping to catch my gaze.
“Compose yourself, Alabath.” He slipped a length of rope I hadn’t realized he carried into my hands and nodded pointedly at it. Standing before me, he blocked my hands from view so I could ground myself and my breathing through the repetitive action of tying knots.
“Don’t let them see you falter,” Cyph said, and I lifted my chin.
Jezebel pinned Titus with a glare. By the door, Malakai remained stoic.
I siphoned off their steady calm, gathered the pieces of my mask, and slipped them back into place. With my energy stifled, I could think straight, approach this from the opposition’s point of view.
It was outlandish of the chancellors to think youth and strength were mutually exclusive; damn what the fates may say of my undoing.
I may not have had as much experience as the rest of them, but I had overcome just as much.
I’d been trained as my father’s heir, for Damien’s sake.
And I had room to grow, to evolve into the ruler the Mystiques needed.
The chancellors didn’t know me. They saw a young woman who claimed to have proven herself through a sacred ritual they didn’t understand. My journey to the Undertaking—though it revealed Lucidius’s secrets—had been illegal. It would look rash and immature if one hoped to see it that way.
But it wasn’t one-sided.
I’d make them see the other side: the undeniable traits that drove me into that quest and landed me here.
But I’d also open up my heart and show the honorable, raw side of me. I’d peel back the mask of Revered and bleed from those mangled pieces if need be.
If they wanted to see a young woman when they looked at me, so be it. Instead of pretending to be otherwise, I would take that image and forge her into a leader through her accomplishments. One with passion and grace and ferocity.
They’d see their error. For this was a game—and it was one I’d win.
Handing the rope back to Tol with a small thank you, and picking up Kakias’s note, I stood before the Rapture.
“I’m certain you’re all aware this has been a tumultuous time for our continent.
The battles are only beginning. In the coming years, months, maybe even weeks, we will all be challenged.
We won’t survive if we don’t band together.
Not as six different clans, but as one warrior people, each with different rituals, values, and strengths.
” I dropped the mask of Revered, allowed a bit of vulnerability to slip through.
“Please, for the sake of all of our territories and the people we are responsible for, reconsider.”
My words went out over the mountains, turning over on the breeze for a stretching silence.
“If I may suggest an alternative?” Every eye in the Rapture Chamber went to Titus. “Since many of us are uncertain how much trust we place in this decision, I suggest we operate on a trial basis.”
“And that is?” I asked.
“We leave delegates here for an observation period.” He gestured around the room to where the apprentices who had come with their chancellors waited, still as the statues beside them.
“How long?” Brigiet pursed her lips, striding back to the table and settling her hands on the back of her winged chair. The Bodymelder’s green eyes lit up at the proposal.
“Until Daminius,” Titus suggested.
I calculated quickly. Daminius, the holiday dedicated to the Mystique Angel, took place in the height of summer. That gave me around two months to demonstrate my strength. It should have been plenty of time, but with Kakias’s note burning a hole in our future, I wasn’t sure.
“They can study the potential new Revered and report back to us on her progress. Then, we’ll reassess.” A smirk lifted Titus’s lips—a scheming one. This was his plan all along. Why?
The reins of this meeting continued to slip through my fingers, but I pulled tighter.
“We will host any delegates who choose to stay,” I declared. “They will be treated as members of an advisory council, allowing them access to Mystique training—on one condition.”
Titus raised his thick eyebrows, interest gleaming in his starry eyes.
“More Mystiques are returning to Damenal by the day. An entire generation has been kept at bay for years, not training, not preparing ourselves for whatever comes next. Assign delegates to remain in my residence, as my guests, and we will learn from them, as well.”
“You cannot suggest we share the secrets of our ancestors among all clans,” Aird said.
“Did I say such?”
He didn’t respond.
“Rituals and customs should be kept to each clan as deemed by the Angels. But we all have knowledge to share. Mystiques won’t learn to read the stars or guide souls to their final resting place, but we can learn the unique histories of the celestial powers and the honors of death.
We can learn the weapons of a Seawatcher, the healing techniques of the Bodymelders, or even the art of meditative connection among your people, Aird. ”
I looked over my shoulder, finding Tol, remembering the now-healed wound hidden beneath his leathers and the scar marking his powerful thigh for eternity. My gaze traveled up his body, and when I met his eyes, he inclined his head and winked.
“You have all heard the story of my journey to the mountains. Due to the severance our former Revered instilled among us, we’d never been taught proper battle healing.
” I turned back to the table, finding Brigiet.
“But my friend’s mother had. Without the Bodymelder knowledge she passed on to her daughter, I would have lost someone very important to me.
” My heart clenched, but I pushed my shoulders back and forced myself to continue.
“It is time we come together as one people, sharing the power born and honed through the ages. For centuries, we have held each other at arm’s length, even where alliances were strong. But it is time we unite.”
I took a breath, lowering my mask to further expose the heart guiding my words. The soul of a warrior. “Teach us. Work with us. Please.”
And in that time, they would see how capable I was of my position.
If proof of my worth was what they demanded, then prove myself I would.
“My apprentice, Vale, will remain with the Mystiques until Daminius.” Titus gestured to the woman standing behind his chair.
She couldn’t be more than a few years older than myself, but wild light brown waves of hair and wide olive-green eyes gave her a rattled appearance.
There was a strength in her stance, though.
Until she ducked her head, and it vanished.
Meridat stood next. “One of the twins will remain, as well.” She looked over her shoulder to where the two apprentices she’d brought waited.
One had sleek black hair, the other a beautiful cascade of tightly coiled curls.
They were otherwise identical with dark skin and catlike eyes alert for mischief.
“I will allow them to decide which. The rest of my party will depart tonight.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay until the morning?” I asked.
She flashed me a perfect white grin. “We prefer to travel by night. The Spirits are the loudest then.”
I shivered at the flare in her amber eyes but said, “Thank you.”
Ezalia confirmed she would try to send someone from her council when she returned to the coast, but she could make no promises, having attended the Rapture alone. Brigiet agreed to confer with the host she brought and select the best fit.
Then, it was only the mistrustful, icy chancellor of the Mindshapers remaining.
Aird stood with one elbow perched on the arm crossing his body, his hand tugging at his platinum beard. “I will consider.”
He swept from the room, fur cloak turning him into a wolf stalking away. Doubtless, he would be hastily saddling his horse and returning to his territory at the southern tip of the Mystique Mountains.
Once his heavy footsteps had faded down the corridor, I turned to the remaining Rapture. This force of possible alliances that represented the promise of survival amid an uncertain future.
“Thank you for extending this chance. I will not disappoint.”
With the meeting officially adjourned and the members of minor clans filing out, I didn’t sag under the pressure of Revered as I had yesterday.
A fire heated within my veins, the taste of success fueling me.
It wasn’t the outcome I wanted, but four chancellors at least agreeing to my tentative rule was better than the alternative.
It was a tether of hope thrown into the darkness.
I’d survived for so long on only my own faith that I had to believe in it.
Until I looked at my friends, grinning, and found Malakai’s green eyes narrowed.
The smile vanished from my face.
“This is a horrible idea.”