14. Secrets Uncovered
Secrets Uncovered
Aradia
It was the throbbing headache that woke her first. Every muscle in her body screamed in agony with each inhale of breath. Her lungs burned, even her tongue seemed to be made out of sandpaper, shredding her throat with each swallow. She licked at her dry lips.
She must be dying. She tried to raise her arms, her legs, or her head.
Nothing.
Help.
Could anyone hear her? Had she even spoken out loud? Her body felt far away. She squeezed her eyes, pushing herself to feel something. She counted to ten, then cracked her right eyelid open.
It wasn’t a vision. Her reality was a dimly lit lamp swinging above her.
The damp air did nothing to help with the creaking of her bones.
She moved her head from left to right, trying to regain any feeling or strength.
Everything around her seemed dark and dusty.
A thin cot on top of a rickety bed frame was all that lay between her and the wood floor.
The springs pricked at her back, adding to the bruises she must already have judging by the numbing pain in specific spots.
Steady drips of water from an open door to the left and occasional chatter filtered in from behind a closed door, leading to what she assumed would be a hallway.
Aradia’s head turned left toward an open bathroom door as a figure passed behind it, paying no attention to her.
Her body slowly felt like her own as she regained full consciousness.
“Try not to move too quickly.” Calia warned as she leaned against the wall.
Aradia pushed herself from the bed and against the wall, forcing herself to sit upright. Calia no longer wore Vidrenian colors or silks, instead black leather coated her body like a glaze. Small metal loops attached to her hips held daggers of all sizes.
Who the depths is this girl?
“Wh-What’s …” Her throat burned with the effort and she swallowed the tears blurring her vision.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t try speaking either.” Calia’s voice was tight, shoulder stiff with tension.
“Where am I?” Aradia rasped.
Calia sighed and crossed the room. She plopped down beside Aradia. Her gaze examined her, as if waiting for Aradia to fall apart or burst into — oh gods.
“What happened? What did I do?” Tears sprang to Aradia’s eyes as her memories came rushing back.
“Easy,” Calia placed an awkward hand on her arm. “You’re safe. Gail is safe … so is your Quinn.”
Aradia relaxed slightly at the knowledge. It only gave room to the haunting suspicion of why she was in a gods-forsaken inn with Calia Wrenn of all acquaintances.
Never forgive and never forget.
“I can explain.” Calia smiled, reading the questions flashing across Aradia’s face. “You’ve been out for days.”
Aradia reeled back as if she’d been slapped.
“How much do you remember?” Calia asked.
She thought of the previous events: the monsters, her home, the fires, Mareena, and Quinn’s father.
“All of it,” she whispered.
“The harvesters would have destroyed the lower city if you hadn't saved us all.”
“Harvesters?” Aradia shuddered at the memory of the creatures.
She thought of the countless books she read at the library. She knew monsters were entrapped within the Veil, but the books were nowhere close to describing the creatures in real life. She shifted her weight, the movement popping her stiff knees. She winced at the pain and strain on her muscles.
“Yes. They must have come down from the mountains,” Calia said. “The Veil is thinning, and the entire realm is in an uproar.
“How much damage did they do?”
Calia rubbed a tired hand down her face. “I didn’t stay long enough to see the depths of loss but … it was enough.”
Aradia let out a sob, heart cracking at Calia’s words. She leaned her forehead against her hands, letting tears stream freely down her cheeks.
“Aradia.”
It wasn’t fair. The Fairchilds were the only good-hearted souls who had looked after her. All the shared meals, the memories made in the tavern, holidays, and celebrations she had spent with them.
“Aradia!”
She jerked her head up and made eye contact with Calia but not before she noticed the golden glow emitting from her own skin. She held her breath and steadied her heart.
Calia’s gaze was steadfast and grounded her even as her eyes filled with wonder and a questioning certainty.
“I’m sorry,” Aradia said.
Calia took a deep breath. “I know who you are.”
Aradia stiffened. She hardly breathed at Calia’s words.
“I know you are Aradia Damali, daughter of Eslanda, and the last priestess of Qualan. Your actions and power in Gail only confirmed it,” Calia said slowly.
Each word was like a chisel against her tombstone. The truth she had spent her entire life hiding and protecting, wiped away by her moment of weakness in protecting Quinn — again. She didn’t regret it.
“I suppose I couldn’t stay hidden forever.”
Calia let out a breath at Aradia’s confirmation. “No, you certainly couldn’t.”
Aradia’s heart beat wildly against her chest. “Who are you really? What do you want from me and why are you helping me?”
The room was filled with the silence of unsaid answers.
“There’s a lot of people who are coming after you. Especially after your little light show. I can help you.”
Aradia couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that burst from her lips. “I don’t think so.”
Calia swallowed, shifting her position and crossing her arms. “What if I told you there are individuals who have the power to stop the war? To stop the king?”
Aradia choked on her laugh. “I’d say you're mad.”
“Yet, here you are. A relic of your mother’s making and powerful beyond reasoning.”
Eslanda’s warnings blared in Aradia’s mind.
Her teeth squeaked as she gritted the words, “I will not be made a weapon for anyone else.”
Calia shook her head. “That's just it though, Aradia. You are a weapon. There’s no running from magic. But it’s your choice on how you wield it. This power, no one of our age understands, but no one can take it away from you.”
Aradia’s head spun with the effort to stand. She stumbled toward the door, trying to put more distance between them.
“How long did you think you could remain idle? A bystander during the war; not choosing a side?” Calia stood as well but remained on the opposite side of the room.
“I-I …”
“You have the magic of the gods.” Calia’s voice was a hiss of a whisper. “You incinerated creatures I thought were simply tales only told to make me eat my quail eggs.”
“I never wanted this power.” Aradia squeezed her eyes against painful memories. “It cost me too much.”
The speed in which Calia crossed the room startled her and Aradia froze as Calia gathered her hands in her own.
“Magic has cost everyone everything. This war, blood spilled, innocence ripped away, children orphaned, loved ones — gone. Between us all we have the power to stop it, once and for all.”
Aradia stilled. “Us?”
Calia nodded. “There’s a few of us in Vidrena who will fight back. Fight against the plague of a king on this land. Will you at least meet them?”
She waited for her mother’s warning to ring but all that met her was anxious silence and an open invitation to be part of something great, something dangerous.
“Why should I trust you?” she asked.
“We all have our own vendettas against the king.” Calia dropped her hands, face tightening with well-kept rage and secrets Aradia wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.
Perhaps it was the chance of understanding the scope of war, or the moment to finally fulfill the duties she had forsaken.
Aradia was only half certain, when she nodded her head, if it was due to the same spark of resentment — revenge — flickering in Calia’s eyes like a flame, and sparking in Aradia’s own shattered heart.
“Trust me,” Aradia said. “Nobody hates the King of Arkan more than I do.”
Calia’s smile reminded Aradia of a wolf. “Eh, I don’t know. You’re not so alone in that aspect.”
“What about his heirs?”
Calia burst into a sudden coughing fit.
“Are you alright?” Aradia patted her back.
“Yep, must have swallowed wrong.” Calia grimaced. “Have you met the heirs of Arkan?” she asked slowly.
“No, but I’ve heard they’re just as deadly as their father. I mean, look what they’ve done to Peraynia.”
Calia stilled.
“They’ve destroyed the sacred temples, overrun Zenobia, laid siege to Vidrena.
Hundreds of thousands have fallen from their blades, and even more desolate and hopeless, wandering the country in hopes of a savior.
” Aradia was surprised at how disgusted her voice sounded.
Perhaps she had more than enough vengeance in her heart for the heirs as well.
“Yes,” Calia whispered. A cold mask of indifference froze her features. “Many have suffered from their actions.”
Aradia scrunched her face in concern. It seemed she had hit a nerve. “I didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”
“No, you’re right. It would take a miracle for the descendants of Arkan to not follow in their father’s footsteps. Being brought up by a monster … well it must be … a different type of horror.”
Aradia shrugged, not wanting to push the topic, but mostly not having one nick of empathy for the royals. “I never thought of them as victims.”
Calia focused on putting their belongings together.
Which Aradia had none. Everything had been left behind at her home and she was left with nothing.
She played with a torn string on the mud-stained dress she still wore and grimaced.
Disgustingly aware of the dire need for a bath and fresh change of clothes, she made her way on weak legs to the bathroom Calia had first appeared from.
“I don’t suppose you brought any of my things?” she asked hopelessly.