3. Rorax
Volla and Jia’s wedding was going to be magickal. Or as magickal as they could make it with only eight hours to prepare.
Rorax spent the rest of day picking flowers—mostly daisies and dandelions—on the edge of Sahloo to make bouquets and she helped Sahana cook the small feast they were going to eat before the ceremony began.
When it was time to eat, the guests slowly started to arrive.
Karan, Sahana’s handsome mate, arrived first. After kissing Sahana a sound hello, he moved to kiss both Jia and Volla on the cheek, offering his congratulations.
Angelo arrived in a flurry, as usual, marching right over to Karan without saying hello to any of the rest of them first.
“I am officiatin’ this wedding, or I’ll give ya both fleas the next time you come down to the Market.” Angelo pointed his finger threateningly at Sahana and Karan in turn.
Sahana snickered and Karan good naturedly put his hands up in defeat. “If you officiate, I’ll walk them down the aisle,” Karan offered.
“That’s a deal.” Angelo finally turned his grin to the rest of the room, straightening his tunic and looking over the modest spread of foods they had put on the table. “It smells divine in here! Let”s eat!”
“Go get them please, Karan. We are ready to start.” Sahana placed the last flower into the wooden arch they had erected and decorated. “Angelo, come here.”
Karan, his usual chin-length black hair pinned up in a small bun on the top of his head, grinned at Rorax with excitement before he disappeared behind the door to the rooftop.
“Yes, ma’am,” Angelo said, straightening his tunic and smoothing a hand over his meticulously groomed long black beard as he situated himself in the center under the colorful arch. He had been the only one of them, besides the brides, that had been able to really dress up for the occasion. Rorax, Sahana, and Karan were all dressed in various shades of black leather armor.
A soft, cool breeze brushed across Rorax’s cheeks. It smelled like the rain from earlier that afternoon. The angry blue and black storm clouds were still on the horizon, but were now illuminated by the sunset, coloring the clouds a deep orange and purple.
“Mark my words, this will be you next! To the King of Ice, no less!” Angelo informed Rorax, like this was an undeniable fact, as she took her position on his left side. The King and Queen of Ice, Raengar and Isolde, were brother and sister and ruled the House of Ice together. Especially in the years before Raengar and Isolde had taken the House of Ice throne from their father, they had always been close with Rorax. Very close. But the king had always looked at Rorax like another friend, not the way she ached for him to look at her.
“Definitely not,” Rorax laughed at Angelo and shook her head. “Crazy old troll,” she teased sadly as her longing made her heart palpitate inside her chest.
Angelo gave her a big, sassy wink. “I’m never wrong about these things, lass. Just promise me you’ll get married somewhere warm. Koppar makes the snot freeze in my beard.”
Sahana and Rorax shared a horrified glance.
The roof where they were holding the ceremony was on a tall apartment building that had been picked out and funded for them by the King and Queen of Weather. It overlooked Sahloo, so they could see the sunset bathing the river and the white stucco city in warm oranges and purples.
Sahana filled in on the opposite side of the flower covered arch as Rorax hummed in happiness.
“These are so beautiful,” Sahana murmured, her brown eyes soft as she took in the flower arch that she and Rorax had decorated together.
Jia, Karan, and Volla finally emerged. Standing in the middle, the beaming women looped on each arm, Karan slowly led them towards the arch and their awaiting friends.
They had found almost-matching silver dresses for Jia and Volla to wear tonight. Jia’s purple locks were done in long intricate war braids, and Volla had opted to pull her unruly blonde curls into a messy bun atop her head.
When they got close, Volla stepped in front of Rorax with a wink, and Jia floated in front of Sahana. Karan fell in line behind his mate.
Jia burst into quiet, happy sobs, and in turn Volla’s tears dripped down her cheeks as she held her new wife’s face in her hands. “I love you, Jia Frostguard. I love you more than the stars love the sky. More than you love the forest at dusk or the color black.” Jia sniffled again. “And I love you more than Rorax loves her gods damned knife.”
Volla didn’t look away from her wife’s eyes but released her face with one hand to flip Rorax off over her shoulder.
A wet giggle burst from Jia, and Karan threw his head back, bursting with a deep belly laugh. Sahana had to clamp her hand over her mouth, bending over a bit to keep her laughter inside, and Rorax just smiled.
She did love her knife, Glimr, a lot.
Angelo held out a knife to Volla and Jia and they sliced a shallow cut into their palms before they pressed their bloody wounds together. Angelo tied their wrists and fingers with a chord and had them say their vows before Sahana tied them together with an ancient incantation.
Rorax would always remember that evening; the deep, contented happiness she felt in the marrow of her bones, and the image of Volla’s forehead pressed against Jia’s as they were tangled in each other, right as the sun was setting with orange and red clouds setting fire across the sky.
Jia and Volla took their Marriage Draught together, gave everyone a hug, and disappeared downstairs.
Angelo gave Rorax a tight hug, his shaggy head pressing against her shoulder. “You be careful over there, Spine Cleaver.” He tightened his arms around her waist before he reached up and patted her cheek with a warm hand. “Take care of them all, you hear me?”
Rorax nodded and gave Angelo’s shoulders a tight squeeze. “I will.”
Karan gave Sahana a deep kiss before he left, brushing his thumb over Sahana’s cheek. “Make sure you write, love. I’ll come after you if you don’t.”
Sahana swatted his side with a watery grin before she pulled him back into a hug. “You would never be able to find me.”
Karan gave Rorax a faint smile over the top of Sahana”s head, his eyes warm and thoughtful. “Take care of yourself over there, too, Grumpy.”
As darkness fell on them, Karan and Angelo took their leave together.
Rorax and Sahana had decided to give Jia and Volla the apartment alone for an illusion of a one-night honeymoon, so they’d brought their sleeping things to the roof.
Sahana sighed contentedly as she snuggled into her sleeping bag next to Rorax and looked up into the stars.
Rorax was already settled next to her. A warm, gratified, happy feeling ballooned in her chest. The feeling wasn’t entirely familiar to Rorax, but it had been happening a lot tonight and she wanted to keep basking in it. “Tonight was perfect, I think.”
Sahana hummed her agreement as she looked up into the stars. “If Karan and I were to renew our vows, I would want it just like that. No one else except the people I love and who love me. I wouldn’t let Angelo preside over my wedding though, I would make him be my flower girl.”
Rorax giggled as she imagined Angelo walking down the aisle with flowers entwined in his long black beard, pelting everyone with rose petals as he passed them.
Sahana smiled softly and rolled over onto her side to face Rorax. “This unit feels like a family. More than any of my other units that I’ve ever led before.”
Family. The happy balloon in her chest seemed to pop as unwanted memories curled their back fingers into Rorax’s heart. She swallowed thickly. “The Wolf used to say that we were a family.”
Sahana scoffed loudly. “That dusty cunt wasn’t part of your family, Rorax. No matter how many times she told you she was. You are no longer the Wolf’s Pup. That name died with her.”
The Wolf’s Pup or simply the Pup. The nickname given to her as a child, a constant reminder of her shame and reckless faith. The name mocked her, reminded her of her failures and her irreparable dishonor.
“That name will never die.” Something sour and ugly built in Rorax’s chest, bubbling with resentment towards herself and the Wolf. She wiped her fingers down her sleeping bag like she could wipe away the blood that would forever be on her hands.
There was a long silence, and thankfully Sahana let the topic drop. “Will you ever report to the Choosing, Rorax?”
Rorax’s back stiffened, and she suddenly wished that there was somewhere she could slink away to avoid this conversation. “No.”
From what little Rorax knew about the Choosing, she did know that it was all but a death sentence. Twelve people went in and only one survived. She couldn’t release herself from the Choosing without taking her life, so her plan was to keep running from it for as long as she could.
Sahana blew out a slow breath. “You would be an excellent Guardian, Ror, you’re better suited for it than the Guardian we currently have in the north, and you would have a spot on the Trigonal Throne.”
The Trigonal Throne.
The Realms is a country made up of twelve different houses. Each house was tied to one of the twelve main elemental strains of magick: air, fire, water, light, dark, ice, foliage, fauna, alloy, death, life, and ice.
The Trigonal Throne is in the center of the Realms, in the city of Valitlinn, a city ruled by Guardians. It was believed that magick originated in Valitlinn, so it’s where the three Guardians of the Realms sit, the three most magickally powerful beings in the world.
The Northern Guardian, the Western Guardian, and the Eastern Guardian. The Northern Guardian was the one stepping down in the Choosing that Rorax had been marked for, so if Rorax won the Choosing it would put her primarily in charge of the protection of Houses Life, Fire, Fauna, and Death; the very same Realm she had nearly burned to the ground under the Wolf’s direction.
Sahana was wrong, anyone would be a better Northern Guardian than she’d be. Becoming the Guardian would also take her away from her home and from the loved ones she had left behind in Koppar.
“Think about it, Rorax.” Sahana rolled over, burying herself deeper into her sleeping bag. “If we find out Lyondrea really is trying to open the Pits, I can’t think of anyone better to lead us into war.”
“What is your name?”
“Rorax Greywood?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I am a warrior.”
Rorax knew it was a dream, it was a dream she had often, but it didn’t stop it from feeling real when the Wolf bent down to a seven-year-old Rorax and brushed the snow off her cheeks with warm, soft fingers. “Very good, my little Pup.”
The soft voice of the Wolf—the woman who found her and pulled her off the streets of Koppar after Darras was kidnapped, her mother in almost every right, the one who had saved her and fed her—always comforted Rorax in her dreams.
The moment she opened her eyes, the guilt and conflict always made her grumpy, and this morning wasn’t any different.
Rorax woke up before Sahana, when the dawn was just starting to brush the night away, the Wolf’s voice still in her ears and the phantom touch of her warm fingers still on her cheeks.
But the Wolf was not her mother. The Wolf had used and manipulated Rorax to kill thousands of people. She couldn’t forget that.
When her thoughts became too much, she got up and started to shove her things roughly into her pack. When she was done, she sat with her legs dangling off the side of the roof, twirling her knife, Glimr, in her fingers and trying not to think about the Wolf.
“Another dream?” Sahana asked groggily from where she’d slept.
“Yes,” Rorax clipped.
Sahana silently got up and padded to the spot next to her. “I’m sorry, Rorax. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”
Rorax didn’t want to talk about it, so instead she rolled her gaze to the side and asked, “Want to spar?”
They ran two person drills with their swords, Rorax admittedly swinging a touch too hard, until Volla and Jia finally emerged from the apartment below, pushing open the door to the roof.
Jia was beaming from ear to ear, her skin glowing and her hair up in a pristine ponytail. Volla, with running kohl under her eyes and her blonde hair frizzed out around her face, looked like she had just been pulled out of the gutter.
“Rough night?” Rorax snickered, her dark mood evaporating as she eyed the drool that was still dried up on Volla’s chin.
“Nah.” Volla threw her arm across Rorax’s shoulders, her tall burly frame leaning heavily down onto her as she winked at Jia. “Best night of my life. I’m pretty sure you could only dream of such a night, Grumpy.”
“It better have been amazing for the price you’re going to pay once you finally comb out your hair.” Rorax eyed the frizzy tangle with a smirk. “You look worse than the homeless guy in Valitlinn who stands on the corner and rubs horse dung through his beard.”
Jia laughed, her voice tinkling like silver bells while Volla scowled.
“I’m going to gather all the hair I find in my ass crack this week and leave it on your toothbrush, Grumpy. See how you like that.” Volla sneered playfully, before releasing Rorax and gathering her golden mess of curls on top of her head.
“Volla,” Sahana admonished, rolling her eyes. “Keep your hair to yourself, please. Are you two ready to go?”
Volla and Jia nodded as one.
“Good. Jia do you have room in your pack for this?” Sahana held out a small, leather wrapped bundle.
“Yes,” Jia said, carefully taking the bundle from Sahana’s palm. “What’s in it?”
“Test vials. Vials to take blood samples and to collect things that might be . . . unusual while we’re in Lyondrea. If the queen isn’t trying to open the Pits, Kiniera thinks there might be large quantities of stagnant magick in Lyondrea that has soured and potentially spawned some unsavory creatures.”
“That’s just great. Pit monsters orstagnant magick monsters,” Volla griped.
“That’s why Lyondrea is a perfect spot for your new summer home,” Rorax deadpanned to the blonde second in command. “At least your neighbors would look like you.”
Volla snorted before she threw her head back and laughed. “Alright, that was a good one, Grumpy.”
Jia tucked the pouch in the top of her pack and Sahana gave them all a wicked grin. “It’s time to take down a monster queen.”