chapter fourteen #3
Seniia and Vilder pull up their sleeves to reveal some of the glyphs, and the one with the pulsating orb slides it across their skin.
Stepping back, he gives his leader a curt nod.
Whatever that thing did, they must have passed the test. “One cannot be too cautious these days,” the guard with the orb explains. “The shadowborn—”
He’s cut off as his superior tilts his chin toward me. “And the human? What is she doing here?”
“All are welcome to visit the Arc,” Vilder says. There’s a slight retraction of his upper lip, revealing his fangs.
“Can,” the guard says. “Anyone can visit the Arc.” He snarls at me, baring his teeth. “That does not mean they are welcome.”
I should be used to this by now, but his words still sting.
As a property, I never fit in with the humans, and as a human, I’ll never fit in with the Reāns.
Still, the last days with Seniia and Vilder have shown me it is possible to overcome one’s differences and be friends.
Heck, even Ero, though strange and fond of making fun of my ignorance, had an underlying respect in the way he interacted with me.
But not these guards. It’s as if I’m back in Bronich being a property all over again.
Seniia holds up her left hand, the one with her golden ring and the beautiful blue crystal at its center, and the guards straighten.
“Her name is La?na, and she is my friend.” Seniia’s voice is laced with authority.
My gaze jumps between Seniia and the guard, who looks as if he wishes to be anywhere but here.
“He should have recognized her from the staff,” Vilder mutters next to me.
I turn toward him, raising my eyebrows in a silent question.
“The staff. It marks her as a priestess. But with that damn snake, she should be easy enough to recognize as a maiden-born and the daughter of the high priestess of Briah,” Vilder whispers under his breath.
“The ealdormen and high priestesses hold the highest-ranking positions in a realm and answer to no one but the ashina. As the daughter of one . . .” He trails off, but I get the picture.
“Doesn’t seem to hinder you though,” I remark, and he chuckles.
“Nah, she prefers it that way. At least I do.”
“My mistake, Priestess.” The guard bows low. “Of course your human friend is welcome to visit. Follow the path to the end and then take a right to get to the main entrance.” He takes a step back, offering another deep bow.
Seniia gives him a curt nod, then sets off down the marble path, leaving Vilder to pick up her bags.
“You know you’ll have the same rank as the rest of us once you’re wearing the robes, right?” Vilder calls after her. “Void, even outside of that, we rank the same, you and I.”
“Relax, V, it’s just for show,” she says once we catch up with her.
“As if I haven’t been carrying your bags since Bowen,” he grumbles.
She swats his arm playfully. “Stop complaining. It keeps you strong.” She grabs one bag herself, then pauses. “What do you mean, we rank the same?”
“I mean exactly that.” He strides past her, bags in hand.
I share a glance with Seniia, who shrugs, then hurries to catch up to him.
I trail behind the two of them, captivated by the beauty of the gardens that surround the pathway.
Listening to Seniia’s teasing and Vilder’s now-familiar grumble, I know I’ll miss them.
It’s only been five days, but they already hold a special place in my heart.
I will never forget their unwavering openness and acceptance during a time when I had no one else.
I let out a long, slow breath, willing the tension to leave my body.
If things weren’t so dire, I would revel in the breathtaking scenery.
Vibrant climbing flowers cascade down the shimmering white heartstone, and ponds and streams flow through the gardens, sunlight dancing on the water.
A symphony of birdsong echoes through the lush greenery as we make our way toward the wide stairs that lead up to the main entrance of the Arc.
And the wolves . . . I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to notice them.
From where I stand, I can see at least a dozen, if not two, lounging around the lush garden.
“Why is it called the Arc and not the Arch?” I say, staring up at the enormous arch in front of me.
Connected to the main arch through crisscrossing bridges are seven intricately carved towers of varying heights, their spears reaching into the clouds.
Each is made of the glistening white heartstone—each one an exquisite piece of art.
Vilder follows my gaze. “That is an excellent question, seeing it is shaped like an arch, but the name doesn’t refer to the architectural structure. It’s short for the Arc of Wisdom.”
I barely register Vilder’s words. All my attention is back on the strange pull inside me.
It grows stronger with every step toward the entrance, and a sudden realization I cannot turn away sends a rush of fear through my body.
What if I can’t escape? What if they put a brace on me again?
My anxiety grows stronger with every pull, and my breath now comes out in shallow gasps.
I can’t do this.
I’m not aware I’ve frozen in my tracks until Seniia’s hands cup my face, gently nudging me to look her in the eyes. “Breathe, La?na. We will find a way out of this.”
“What if they take me?” I whisper.
“We will not let anyone put a brace on you,” Vilder says with such an intensity that I can’t help but turn and look at him.
“They’ll have to get through me first, and I’m super powerful, remember?
” He gives me one of his rare smiles, showing off both of his dimples, and even though he says it partially as a joke to lighten the mood, there’s a sadness to his eyes.
“Exactly,” Seniia says. “And you already enjoyed watching his sword skills this morning, so you know you’re in good hands.” She winks at me, and although Vilder actually laughs for once, I have a feeling it has more to do with my startled expression than Seniia’s quip.
“Come on,” he says. “I’m sure that once you’ve sorted through whatever needs to be sorted, you’ll be free to do as you want. The C’elēn may be known for a lot, but they are not known to hold anyone against their will.”