Chapter 72
Orra made her way through the palace halls, flanked by soldiers.
She hesitated occasionally, as if having trouble finding her way to the Sungazer.
But she was in the oldest section of the palace, and she knew the layout as well as she knew the limits of her dwindling power.
Still, the soldiers didn’t need to know either of those things.
It wasn’t the first time she’d walked to the Sungazer since being released from the dungeons, so they gestured down the right hall now and then, ensuring she made it there without getting lost. Emeris had spent much of her time in the Sungazer as well, talking with Fernandus about all she’d missed as a priestess during her time as Mayvus’ prisoner.
This time however, Orra ran into Cyrus, his eyes wet with tears as he kneeled on the stone.
The Sun’s rays were just beginning to move past the circumference of the Sungazer’s open roof, leaving the young man half in shade and half in light, his soul bared with his transition from worshiping the Stars to worshiping the Sun.
Fernandus hesitated at the edge of the room, but before he could offer assistance, Orra stepped forward and kneeled beside Cyrus, taking care to rest fully in the Sun’s light. She needed it.
She placed a hand on his arm. “Having one’s faith challenged can be as trying as any physical altercation.”
He wiped his cheeks and nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “Shouldn’t it be easy for me to worship the Sun if a Star herself tells me it’s the ultimate source of power?”
“It’s a difficult switch to make,” Orra conceded.
“There’s no shame in admitting that. Too often people need to discover the truth for themselves in order to truly believe it.
Lorvandans struggle to believe the Sun created them because the Sun seems too distant and unreachable.
Vendarans struggle with the idea of a Creator being like a parent, desiring affection and camaraderie.
You each see different sides of the Stars and Sun.
You simply need to see them from all angles and adjust your perception. ”
“I want the Sun and Stars to stay the same, the way they’ve always been in my mind,” he admitted.
“They’re not changing. You are. And that’s not a bad thing. If I’d told you these things the night you met me, you never would have considered them. But now you weigh their truth, eager to know what’s right even if you don’t like it.”
He frowned, his gaze on the tile where dark patches marked his fallen tears.
“I told Aeliana parts of what Lady Merinnia showed me,” he whispered, “but not everything. And no one else asked. I don’t think anyone cared about my visions because I know nothing of the Vendaran world or its curses and prophecies. ”
Orra hummed as she considered his words. “Perhaps the unbiased outsider’s view is the most helpful one. It was an oversight that no one asked you.” She leaned her head to the side until he looked up and caught her gaze. “Will you tell me now?”
He nodded, but his hands started shaking. “I think she showed me my future. I was back on Sayhla Island, far older with greying hair. I instructed the chiefs, pointing out the flaws in their worship of the sprites. They seemed to listen, but I have no idea what I taught them.”
Orra smiled. “So you’ll find your own mission from the Sun, separate from the battles they fight here in Vendaras.”
“The visions showed me again, surrounded by people in furs amongst snow and ice. There were hundreds of men and women, but again, I don’t know what I said.
I saw myself back in Gahldric Valley and Andel’s harbor.
There was a ruined city built with a craftsmanship I’d never seen—buildings that looked ancient and decrepit, but…
glorious.” His eyes shone with the memory, and he swept his hands out in front of him to emphasize the vastness of the place.
“In each vision, men and women gathered to hear me speak. Me. As if I had something worthy to share.” The shaking in his hands intensified, and he balled his hands into fists.
“You don’t strike me as someone who would shy away from saying what needs to be said, even if it’s to a large group of people. So what has you so nervous?”
He let out a short laugh. “Gams always said I talk too much.”
“Sometimes our greatest weaknesses become our greatest strengths.” Orra placed her hands over his, infusing them with warmth and comfort.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “What if I say the wrong things? What if I teach them what I think I know and it’s wrong?
Gams and Gamps spent their entire lives teaching people to worship the Stars.
I did the same because it’s what I knew.
It’s what I felt convicted to believe and share.
How can I trust any new convictions when my old ones were wrong? ”
Orra closed her eyes, finally understanding his predicament as she related it to her own.
She’d been wrong about so many things. She’d led her peers astray, convincing them the way to fix the world was to break it apart—and they’d listened.
“I can’t promise you that you won’t lead people astray, but I can promise you that you will never lead people to the truth if you hide it away in fear.
It starts with you learning not just the truths about the Sun and the Stars but truths about the people.
You’ll have to learn to sift for the truth and understanding without magic, and then you’ll have to learn how to share it. ”
He nodded, the crease in his brow only slightly smaller.
“You said you were older in those visions. Give yourself time. No one expects you to become a priest in a Sungazer the moment you determine it’s the Sun who deserves your praise.
I suspect by the time you are meant to be serving the Sayhleens, the Ahmranans, and the Dehvlonians in that way, you’ll be ready for it, and your words will come with confidence. ”
His gaze shot up to hers. “Ahmranans and Dehvlonians?”
She smiled. “You know the Ahmranans live in the harshest of conditions. Were you not aware the Dehvlonians are master architects?” She closed her eyes, envisioning the homes made for simple families that were far more impressive than even this palace.
She’d always enjoyed visiting the Dehvlonians, despite their distrust of magic.
“But in the visions, they worship the moon the same way the Sayhleens worship the sprites,” Cyrus whispered.
Orra’s eyes fluttered open. “Is that so? That’s a change in the last thousand years. I wonder why…”
The serenity of the Sungazer was interrupted by heavy footsteps in the hall, followed by a panicked Gaeren peeking in. His face fell when he found Cyrus and Orra still kneeling in the center. “Have either of you seen Emeris?”
They shook their heads, but Fernandus chimed in from his place in the back. “She left almost two bells ago. Said her head hurt and thought she might lie down.”
Gaeren’s hair stuck up as he ruffled it in agitation. “I have to leave soon for Thallahan’s wedding.”
Orra and Cyrus exchanged a look.
“What does that have to do with Emeris?” Cyrus asked.
“I thought she might have an idea for a wedding gift.” He shrugged. “Enla is sending money on behalf of the family, but Thallahan gave up his eye along with their original wedding date for me. I feel like I should have something… more.”
Orra snorted. “I suspect Fay will be happy as long as you don’t take him on any more of your adventures.”
Gaeren grimaced. “Maybe. She also said she expected a princely gift.”
“Give him the thing you would most want,” Orra said, shifting to rise.
Gaeren stepped closer and held out a hand to pull her to a standing position.
“I heard about the deliberation yesterday.” Orra studied Gaeren’s reaction. “I’m sorry it was a difficult meeting. Hopefully your father will see reason before you meet again tomorrow.”
“Yeah, thanks. It could get messy.” He winced. “But first I have to get through this wedding.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
A shudder ran through Orra as his fingertips likely brushed the golden arrow within. He still carried it and guarded it well, just like Velden held on to the silver fish. They were halfway there.
“You sense me touching it, don’t you?” He bent down to look her in the eyes. “Do you still sense Mayvus using the onyx stone to build her army?”
Orra shook her head. “I sense very little these days. I fear it will impair our ability to find them all.”
“What happens when you find them all and reunite them? Will the barriers finally be broken down? Or will you destroy the only way for everyone to cross them?”
“Neither,” she whispered, and Gaeren frowned.
“Then what will happen? What am I helping you do?”
The braid on her wrist hummed in anticipation as Gaeren tightened his grip on the golden arrow.
“I’m not even sure I know exactly what will happen,” Orra admitted. “I know it will bring back Bryton. I know the Sun prophesied it would happen, and that’s enough.”
“Who’s Bryton again?” Gaeren asked.
“A Star,” Cyrus murmured. “That’s one of the other things Lady Merinnia showed me.”
Orra stiffened in surprise.
“Before the bundle of light could take human form,” he said, “it was divided into four parts, one for each corner of the earth. A way to reach the people torn apart.”
It had been a long time since Orra had cried in front of people, but the tightening of her throat risked exposing the way her past haunted her.
“Are you saying…” Gaeren’s gaze volleyed between Orra and Cyrus. “Are the starbridges pieces of…a Star?”
She blinked the tears back as best she could as she nodded.
Gaeren’s gaze swung to the braid on her wrist. “Your other half.”
Her lips trembled as she smiled, and one of the tears fell. “It’s the only way for me to right my wrongs.”
Unwilling to let them see more of her pain, she swept past Gaeren and out the door, ignoring the soldiers as they trailed her back to her room.