Chapter Nine
THE GENERAL
Ihit the ground running before the portal behind me sealed shut.
I had stumbled upon Ruin on my way out, and the way she stalked through the city piqued my interest. I had wasted enough time watching her, though.
My shadows surged forward, clearing a path through the streets of Aphellion.
The sound of my boots pounding the earth fell in time with my racing heart.
I sprinted toward the bleached limestone that made up the healing quarter, intent on speaking with Ilayah.
I stopped short at the door, gathering myself. Finn’s somber face met me at its entrance; what hope I clung to slowly disintegrated. With a fortifying breath, I stepped into the warded room. Soothing lavender and the sharpness of healing tonics permeated the air.
Xuri held her mother’s hand, her dark eyes rimmed in red. She shook her head when she saw the question in my eyes, the woven beads in her hair clinking with the movement.
Everyone, save Xuri, shuffled out of the room, offering us privacy. Ilayah had taken me in when Xuri found me as an infant in the Perellian Forest. She had acted as my own mother in all the ways that counted. My shoulders slumped as I again beheld her withered body.
“They drained her of almost all of her magic. There’s nothing we can do except help her transition peacefully into death.
She briefly became conscious, but delirium overtook her—the side effect of a deeply depleted oracle.
” Xuri spoke calmly, softly. A tear followed the path of its predecessors down her cheek.
I took hold of Ilayah’s other hand. I remembered when my own fingers used to fit snugly in her palm.
Now my hand engulfed hers as I gently held it, the bones of her hand both sharp and frail.
Her dark-brown skin, once glowing and soft like Xuri’s, was now ashen and crepey from her immense dehydration.
She was our Prime Oracle. Had she known her end? Had she seen what would happen when she crossed that portal months ago? What was worth this outcome?
I knew these were questions borne of desperation and stark grief. Unanswerable. A way to channel a sense of control. But there was none. Only fuel for my anger. Another light snuffed by Nolan’s darkness.
Ilayah’s brow scrunched in discomfort as her body began to seize. The withdrawal symptoms from the amount of Glint in her blood were already beginning.
I called for Sieren, the Prime Healer, who rushed back into the room. She released her magic upon Ilayah, whose body fought against the calming force. A few stray twitches worked their way to the surface, but her physical agitation abated, her twisted features eventually relaxing.
After a few minutes, Sieren addressed us. “Her heart is failing. It won’t be long before she passes. Now is the time to say your final good-byes.”
Xuri stood and exited with Sieren, leaving me alone with the woman who helped raise me. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I clenched my jaw.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.” My voice cracked. I tried again. “Thank you for your dedication to me and Aphellion. You will be so deeply missed.” I sighed. A young part within me broke, even as my eyes remained dry.
Her seizure had mussed her black hair, some strands lying haphazardly across her face. I swiped them aside, my finger grazing her forehead. At my touch, a vision erupted.
I no longer stood in the healer’s room. Dread and inky midnight blanketed my sight. Streaks of blush pink pierced through the cold bleakness. A soft voice wafted through the vision.
“There is one you’re tasked to find. Scales will fall and release the blind. When darkness wins and day recedes, peace will bloom and hope will bleed.”
I blinked, returning to myself. My sight refocused on Ilayah, still silent and shallowly breathing in her bed.
The voice and vision imprinted heavy in my mind, stealing my focus.
What I saw meant little, as most visions do—flashes of color and strange words.
I would write down the phrases when I returned to my study.
I leaned closer, whispering over her. “Thank you, Ilayah. Be at peace.” I softly touched her hand one final time, then summoned Xuri. I squeezed her shoulder as she passed before leaving her to her final good-byes.
Finn walked in step with me as I left the healer’s space. “I’ll return to Maripol with you tonight for the festival. We will continue connecting our spies with Haluma’s defectors. The veil deepens.”
Finn nodded.
I raked my hands through my hair in agitation.
“He will not win.” Shadows seeped out of my knuckles.
I would sooner lose my own life than allow the king to prevail.
My steps grew leaden at Finn’s leaked gravity magic.
He tucked it away before I became anchored to the stone beneath my feet.
The impact of our raw grief finding what small outlets it could.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. I waved my hand in his direction as he peeled off to summon our troops and relay information. We were all on edge. Losing Ilayah was a tremendous loss, affecting us all.
The walk to the other side of Aphellion offered a moment for me to collect my thoughts from the last several hours.
In the privacy of my home, I collapsed on the sofa.
The reality that we had succeeded in getting Ilayah back, only to have her succumb to the horrific effects of Glint, settled heavy on me.
I never had dealt well with loss. The metal around my home writhed and vibrated.
My rings melted down, forming lethal arrows that I impaled the nearby wall with.
Grief slammed against the anger within me.
I shook with the collision. I would give myself this rare moment.
I could not afford to succumb fully to my grief.
Evil didn’t sleep, so I wouldn’t either.
The wave of emotions eventually, slowly, receded.
I called the arrows back to myself, reforming them into the rings around my fingers. Stalking up the stairs, I headed toward my study. Stacks of blank paper cluttered my desk. I pulled off a sheet from the top and wrote out the words melodically sung in my mind during my final vision from Ilayah.
I tacked the paper on my wall next to other sketches and maps, the words tumbling around as I sought to understand them.
Like most prophetic visions, only time would reveal the truth of the words.
But decoding them served as a persistent, if fruitless, pastime of mine, ever since I was young.
Ilayah’s voice rose in my memory, chiding me for forcing meaning onto things that would not be cajoled into revelation until its proper time.
I glanced around my office. Boxes of charcoal and containers of ink pens lay stacked on a shelf.
Detailed maps of Lyrae, Maripol, and other secretive places around the realms decorated the walls.
I had the urge to draw something, any means to release some of the pain I carried, but time was not on my side to begin such an endeavor.
Drawing had always come naturally to me.
It was not well-known that the Liberation’s leader had a talent for art and cartography, and I intended to keep it that way.
Commissions came from all over for my accurate renditions, including from King Nolan himself.
I was more than happy to provide him with modified versions of the realm of Yarit, where the Liberation’s location lay right under his nose.
Any way I could sabotage his efforts were thoroughly exploited. Shadows twined out of my knuckles, their sinuous movements matching the beat of my heart. Grief glazed my focus as I stared at the hypnotic movements of the shadows.
A bell chimed in the distance. The collection of long and short tones rang from one side of Aphellion to the other, signaling a death of one of our own. I gazed out the window toward the Auren Mountains. It was over. At least she was now at peace.
I sighed, my moment of reprieve melting away.
Duty took precedence as I grabbed my ceremonial sword and quickly descended the stairs, making my way to the public annex.
With Ilayah’s death, Xuri would ascend to take the Prime Oracle’s position.
It would take place before her mother’s body would have the chance to turn cold.
Ilayah’s death ceremony wouldn’t occur for another several days.
A crowd had already gathered before a makeshift platform, with streams of people continuing to join from around Aphellion.
This same platform had been erected under the same gnarled oak for my own ascension to Liberation leader when I had come of age.
This ceremony would be significantly more somber.
Death bells didn’t happen often, but when they did, we came together as a community, dropping everything to lend silent solidarity to those most affected.
Xuri stood readied on the platform, confident and regal despite her loss. The crowd parted at my approach, all taking a knee or the soldier’s sign of respect. Women gripped their children, affording me a wide berth.
At the chime of any death bells, soldiers would be released throughout Aphellion to spread the news, and gather our people. We would hold the weight of loss with the hope for our future in delicate balance. I nodded at Xuri, who briefly shut her eyes, inhaled, and offered a bow of deference.
The crowd hushed as I stepped forward. “We have lost Ilayah Prorociste, our beloved Prime Oracle. She served the Liberation and aided the realms at large with valor and virtue. We mourn her death.”
Silence followed my pronouncement. All heads bowed at my words. I hit my chest with my fist in the soldier’s sign of respect. Thumps resounded among the crowd. I turned toward Xuri.
“Xuri Prorociste.” She knelt before me, her box braids draping across her face.
A single tear trailed down her cheek. I took a deep breath.
“You have been trained your whole life to assume this role. Though it has arrived sooner than any of us expected, you are fully qualified and completely entrusted with carrying the torch of the Prime Oracle. May your mouth only speak truth. May your heart only know hope. May your courage never lack no matter the visions you receive. Now, rise.”
All eyes focused on Xuri. Xuri’s gaze trained on mine.
“My sister and comrade-in-arms.” I lifted the ceremonial blade and released my magic.
Thin tendrils of metal braided and curled into a semi-enclosure around Xuri, a metallic alcove of living vines, growing upward toward the oak tree’s canopy.
The enclosure was a symbol of protection and a visual of a gilded anointing. A child clapped.
“Do you willingly take hold of the position and task before you?”
“I accept the responsibility of the Prime Oracle. From now until my death.” She held her hands out in acceptance and supplication to the people she now served, and the gods that granted her this ascended power.
I opened my palm revealing a nugget of gold. It melted down into thousands of fine strands that laced around her forearms in glittering, decorative vambraces.
Xuri watched, her arms outstretched. She spoke low out of the side of her mouth, “A bit gaudy, don’t you think?”
“It’s ceremonial. And you’re welcome.” A ribbon of gold pinched her skin. She glared up at me, a ghost of a smile flashing.
Addressing the crowd again, I bellowed, “I present to you Prime Oracle Xuri, the Liberation’s source of wise counsel and our wellspring of prophetic predictions. Lead us well.” I stepped back, giving Xuri prominence.
The crowd applauded with optimism and certitude. My time to mourn Ilayah would have to wait. The day was closing and a Haluman festival awaited.