8. Magic and Monsters
Magic and Monsters
Aradia
Aradia locked and bolted the front door of her home.
She sighed, letting an exhausted tear slide down her cheek before quickly brushing it away.
The scratch of a match was the only sound as she lit the candles around the kitchen.
The warm glow cast the shadows away and slowed her beating heart.
She was alone for the first time since the assassin’s attack.
Between the extra shifts and visits to Quinn, she hadn’t stayed by herself in three days.
The Fairchilds had allowed her to spend the night in their daughter, Mareena’s room, when one of Quinn’s wounds got infected.
Aradia hated to see him in pain but was thankful for the perfect timing.
Her balm was the only medicine which seemed to soothe his agitated scabs and dried skin.
She used to love the quietness of her home, but now every crackle of fire made her jump, every passing footstep outside sent chills over her skin.
Hunger replaced her anxiousness as she prepared a simple meal.
Chopped apples mixed with blueberries and honeyed cream cheese.
She slathered the spread onto a slice of fresh bread she had brought home from the tavern.
She placed a few strips of smoked elk meat on her plate with freshly squeezed plum juice.
She sat down, forcing herself to relax, and bit into her food.
The events of the last few weeks played through her mind.
She hadn’t expected to meet Calia but found her fascinating if not a bit suspicious.
To be split from her family and escape to Gail was a testimony in itself.
The girl had grit even if she hid behind a mask made up of her own secrets.
As a highborn, driven from luxury and hiding within the shadows, Aradia could understand why Calia lived with a wall of armor around her.
Aradia had been doing it for years. It was more than surprising when she realized Quinn had slipped between the creases and embedded himself so deeply in her heart.
Gail had been the one location she knew her deceased father’s family hailed from.
Upon arrival she searched for four years but had learned the King of Arkan not only used the Threshing to wipe out the priestesses and murder her mother but used the chaos to erase any history of her father.
She had lost more than she knew in those few months following her mother’s murder.
Since she was conceived from a highborn father and a priestess mother, simply existing had put a target on her back before she was born.
Eslanda had done the only thing she knew would protect Aradia and returned to the temple in Shadowood to raise her. Set apart and alone, she grew up with women whose blood held the key to opening the Veil and whose duty was to ensure the god of chaos remained imprisoned behind it.
Aradia pushed the empty plate away from her. She dragged herself toward her bed and collapsed into the cool blankets. Exhaustion pulling at her eyelids.
“Eos,” she prayed. “Please, no visions tonight.”
She had grown into her priestess powers on her ninth birthday.
Her mother had allowed her to play outside with the children.
However, an energetic child playing an intense game of volley had not ended well.
She had collapsed, seizing the moment her head hit the ground and visions swarmed behind her eyes.
Only bits and pieces of the past, a puzzle she had to solve in order to save the future.
The visions flooded her mind, the deceased saints desperate to be heard.
Their warnings blared behind the door she barely kept closed.
At times when her physical strength was depleted and her mental mind weak, she would lose herself to the memories of past priestesses and guardians of the Veil.
Their powers and emotions channeled through to the last living descendant of Qualan.
It hadn’t taken long for the Arkanian army to find her. Two months after her first vision, they had stormed into Shadowood, torching everything in their way.
“No nightmares,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut before falling into a deep sleep.
Rolling waves crashed against the rocks.
Warm sand squished underneath her toes. Seaswans called to one another as they flapped above her, flying closer to the sun's warmth. Clear skies encompassed her, making her feel as if she was in a globe. It was peaceful — safe. Aradia didn’t know the last time she had felt complete bliss.
“Aradia.” A low warm voice was a whisper in the wind.
She turned but saw no one around her. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Where was she? She looked down at herself. It was her body. This wasn’t a vision. She had shown up as her true self. What was going on?
“Aradia.”
The voice sounded in her ear. She jerked to the right but no one was there. The hair on her arms raised with the beating of her heart. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing evenly. A face formed behind her eyelids and she snapped them open, blinking in confusion.
“Aradia.”
“Stop!” She shouted.
A hush fell over the ocean. The waves paused in mid-motion, no longer crashing down in peaceful rhythms. The seaswans' wings were outstretched but motionless in the air. No wind brushed the back of her neck.
One single form stood on top of the water.
Even from the distance she knew it was a man.
He stood like a giant with his hands crossed behind his back comfortably.
Clad in black he stood as a stark contrast against the blue of the ocean.
His face was hidden behind a hood but his voice sounded near her.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.
Aradia swallowed yet she felt no fear in his presence.
“Who are you?” Her voice felt distant but loud, quiet but commanding.
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
Aradia raised a brow. “What do you want?”
The man’s legs made no movements, but he moved all the same toward her. Aradia stood her ground, even as her knees felt wobbly.
“The same thing you do,” he said.
She scoffed. “I want many things.”
“No.” He stopped a few feet away. “You live for one moment, one opportunity. What is it?”
Was this her conscience pulling on her deepest darkest thoughts?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Such hatred you hold in your heart — such loneliness.”
Aradia swallowed the emotion behind his words. Her mother’s death flashed through her mind.
“Who is responsible for leaving you orphaned? Who is responsible for destroying the only good thing in your life?”
His name sprang to her mind faster than she could part her lips. The words whimpered out as Aradia shook with rage. “The King of Arkan.”
A scream erupted, cracking the sky and shaking the ocean. The ground shook, bringing Aradia to her knees. The man in front of her blinked out and came back blurry.
“What’s happening?” She screamed over the earth cracking.
“I’ll ask you again, what do you want?” Urgency filled the man’s voice.
She clapped her hands over her ears to stop the roaring of the dream — nightmare — vision, whatever it was. Screeching rang loud and shrill. For the first time, the feeling of fear crept back into her very bones as the space began to deteriorate around her.
“What do you want, Aradia?” A hand with a rubied potent ring gripped her forearm, freezing her in place.
Oh gods, no. No, no no!
She dragged her gaze up the dark clothes that snapped against each other like a whip in the angry wind. Her stomach dropped at the thought of seeing the face of her mother’s murderer. Instead, a strong jawline, straight nose and ocean eyes stared down at her.
“Revenge,” she whispered the words only meant for him. “I want revenge.”
A smile both heartbreaking and cruel graced his full lips. “Then wake up and come find me.”
Another scream pierced the city followed by shouts and explosions. Aradia flung herself out of her bed. She reached the window and stared. Wildfire encompassed the lower city and spread quickly.
“Gods be with us.”
Her house rattled as a screech shook the shingles and a creature the size of a horse raced past her window. She screamed and tripped over the kitchen chair as she fled the room. The creature outside rounded the corner at the loud crash. Its black eyes peered into her home.
Aradia froze. Her heart thumped wildly against her chest. She prayed to any gods who would hear to turn her invisible.
Everything seemed to pause as she made eye contact.
It reared back with a thundering roar and smashed its head into the window.
A nightmare only told in her childhood stories crawled through the broken glass straight for her.