Chapter 35
Revna
Hours later, we all emerged from the tent. I rubbed my hand over my lower spine, wincing. The chairs the Seeing Ones had provided were functional, not comfortable.
Despite midnight nearing, the camping group was just as lively as when I’d first shoved my way through the crowd, desperately following S?ren.
The campfire now roared, and a group sat around it, sharing stories.
I stared, uncertain why the scene called to me so deeply.
I wasn’t a storyteller by any means and often resented things shared in this way—after all, the priests had used such settings to manipulate my people for generations.
S?ren and Sonja were deep in conversation behind me, their heads close together as they murmured.
I stood out of hearing distance, trying to offer them a semblance of privacy.
Sonja intrigued me, but I didn’t know how to feel about her quite yet.
S?ren was thrilled to have her back, and ultimately, it meant he wasn’t under the queen’s command in any way now.
But the unification of long-lost siblings made my heart ache thinking of Frode.
I’d been promised a reunion with him, and instead I’d created a monster worse than me. Was his body still in the throne room? Had it been reburied or disposed of? I forced the questions from my mind, unwilling to think about the possibilities.
Astrid was already walking back to the inn when Valen came up next to me, bumping my shoulder with theirs. I huffed a laugh. They grinned. “Are you ready?”
I shook my head, thinking over the details of the plan we’d created.
We’d drilled down every step over and over again until I knew I’d be dreaming about it.
If I wasn’t dreaming about Aloisa and Arraya, that is.
“We still have a lot to do. Besides, I don’t think there’s any way to be ready for a revolution. ”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Valen sounded bemused.
I shrugged, my gaze still drinking in the group of young Seeing Ones trading stories.
One stood, their face covered in the flickering shadows of the firelight, animatedly lifting their arms and their voice as they moved from character to character.
“We’re trying to kill an immortal king who fancies himself a god. What else should we call it?”
Valen nodded, acquiescing. “True enough.”
“There’s one part of this I just can’t figure out,” I said. “How do you suppose Arraya has lived all these years?”
“Lurae are strange,” Valen said. “S?ren has never seen her use any magic?”
“None.”
“She’s definitely kept it hidden for a reason.
It allowed her to…stay the same age, or possibly reverse the aging process on her body as it occurred.
” Valen pursed their lips thoughtfully. “Magic truly is so vast. Her Lurae could be something entirely unique, or it could be a common power she’s learned to cultivate in a new way.
It’s impossible to tell.” They studied me for a moment.
“Do you know how she became Queen of Kryllian?”
“No.”
“The last queen died suddenly of a mysterious illness. She had no heirs, despite her age. And then shortly afterward, a journal of hers was discovered. It detailed a sordid affair with a courier who visited the castle frequently, and it told of a secret pregnancy the queen had managed to hide. The baby had been born eighteen years ago. A girl was found, matching the birth date and description the queen had left behind. And Anja has been queen ever since.”
I gaped. “She assassinated the queen and then laid a trap so the people would believe her the next heir.”
Valen laughed. “She’s smart, I’ll give her that.
” I mulled the story over, but the Seeing One continued, “Come join the storytellers with me.” They wrapped their thin fingers around my upper arm and began to pull me unceremoniously through the fray.
There was no way someone so old should be this strong.
When we finally reached the group, Valen pushed me down until I sat on the nearest empty log.
The current storyteller looked over at Valen, who said, “The Queen of Bhorglid will join our next round, Lykke.”
Lykke looked me over with a grin. “Excellent. Your turn then, I take it?”
Valen swapped places with the young seer and stood before the crowd. “The Queen of Bhorglid has some interesting stories, I think you’ll find. Make sure to ask her about them when this is all over.” I rolled my eyes, but they waved a hand. “There is much, however, that she does not know.”
By this time, a small crowd had gathered.
At least fifteen people sat within view, with more continuing to trickle in.
Valen raised their voice and called, “Today, we welcome Revna to our caravan. She is a temporary visitor, and I am eager to see what knowledge she gains and what knowledge she gives to us during her time here.”
Everyone bowed their head in my direction for a moment. It was a clear sign of respect. Nervousness crawled at my throat, but I forced myself to stay still.
“Now,” Valen continued, turning to me as if we were the only people around, “the Kryllians and the Fastians keep their history written. Scholars, like your S?ren, study that history and record their own. And then it is taught in schoolhouses. How effective do you think that practice is?”
I hesitated, worried my answer would be wrong. “Um…very? S?ren knows a lot.”
“He does,” Valen conceded. “He was also raised in the palace, with access to libraries and the education to read books for himself. Not as common in Kryllian as you might believe.”
“Not everyone knows how to read?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my surprise. “Even Bhorglid offers classes for Nilurae.”
The corner of Valen’s mouth tipped upward. “You’re right. Once, all children in Kryllian were taught in schools. But when Arraya—or Anja, as you knew her—rose to power, she eliminated schooling for lower-income families.”
“How is that possible?” I demanded. “Surely the people would have rioted.”
“Perhaps. If she had not been so artful about it all.” Valen sighed. “Before I came to Bhorglid, to tell your family of the prophecies I had received about your life, I spent my time with a caravan in this very city. During Arraya’s early years as Queen of Kryllian.
“The last queen was beloved by the people. Arraya moved slowly, first offering those with more wealth the ability to send their children to private academies. She increased production quota for the miners, which prohibited them from putting their children in school for as long each day. Eventually, she replaced all the royal councilors with nobility. They voted to stop constructing schoolhouses in outlying villages. And the citizens she kept busier than ever, so they didn’t have time to riot even if they wanted to. ”
I rubbed a hand over my chest. It ached at the thought of all the Kryllians—Lurae and Nilurae alike—who had been used by their ruler. “That’s terrible.”
“Arraya is cunning.” Valen raised their voice, so the small crowd now gathered around the fire knew they were speaking to all of us. “She will not be an easily defeated enemy.”
“Why didn’t the priests do the same thing?” I asked. “If it was so effective, I don’t understand why all in Bhorglid are taught to read.”
“Authorities in Bhorglid have never feared the written word—after all, they don’t keep their histories written down.”
I chewed on my lip. They were right. I’d never even considered how useless knowing how to read had been. Most of the books in the castle library were volumes on war strategy. And even those contained very little history or references to back them up.
“You come from a nation that embraced the oral tradition,” Valen said. “Passing down stories and history through spoken word.”
It clicked. “The priests.”
“Exactly.” Valen clapped their hands together.
“They tell the same story of Callum and Arraya’s glorious attempt to seize the Fjordlands every ritual day,” I remembered aloud.
“I only knew it was wrong because my friend Halvar heard the real story from his mothers. And then he shared it with me and Freja.” I ignored the pang of remembering Arne had been there, too.
“A perfect example. So you see, Arraya took the power from her people here by removing their ability to read. And the priests took it from your people by removing the histories, the written accounts of events. Both sought to influence the past to their benefit.”
Now, the Tapestry’s insistence on showing S?ren and me the past resonated. Despite S?ren’s thirst for knowledge and scholarship, so much information from Aloisa’s time had been erased—because it all took place in Bhorglid, where access to said information was carefully monitored and prohibited.
Valen continued. “What makes our method unique in the caravans is the encouraged sharing of opinions. We look to each other for stories and history—and then we dissect it together. We acknowledge biases from the teller and the validity of them as a source of information. We do not simply believe. We dig deeper.”
“That’s great,” I said, “but how does that relate to the Tapestry at all?”
“We’ve all heard stories of the Tapestry here,” Valen replied.
Nodding heads echoed their words. “During Tam’s time, they spoke with Aloisa often.
The two met in their young adulthood, and she shared with them the information about the Tapestry.
She believed it was the source of our visions, that perhaps we Seeing Ones can glimpse the threads of the past and the future easier than others.
We’ve held these stories close to our chests, never sharing them with others outside of our caravans before now.
I wondered if perhaps time dissecting the stories as a group could do you some good. ”
I wasn’t sure this was going to go anywhere. And with the threat of Callum and Arraya’s hostile takeover of the Fjordlands on the horizon, it felt like a waste of time. If no one acted, if we sat and did nothing…