Chapter 4 #2
She glows with a soft golden light, a sign of the goddess whose power flows through her.
Her chestnut-brown hair hangs freely down to her shoulders, and her green eyes seem to laugh and dance even though she’s not smiling.
The golden fighting leathers she wears are immaculate, as if they’ve never seen a touch of blood or a single weapon strike.
A silver stone with a red streak hangs from a chain around her neck, her only adornment other than the twin daggers at her hips.
Behind Ainslee is Darian Emlyn, her twin brother.
He doesn’t glow as she does, but there’s a distinct resemblance between them.
He’s slightly taller than Ainslee and towers over my father.
His short, dark brown hair is a little wild, as though it hasn’t seen a brush in a few days, and somehow, his golden leathers seem rumpled, like he’d left them in a pile for a few days after a hard workout.
How anyone’s fighting leathers could look wrinkled is beyond me.
But he’s smiling, and something makes me think of how the hill felt when I first walked out of Averna and heard the children playing. Full of laughter and life.
“Of course, Countess Ainslee,” my father says and moves to her. I follow him. “Are King Rhion and his dragon doing well?”
“They’re safer than most in this gods-damned war, but we have important matters to discuss, so let’s skip the pleasantries,” she says as she perches in a chair in my father’s sitting room.
She’s positioned like a warrior, legs spread wide and elbows on her knees as she leans forward.
It’s a position she can act in an instant from.
“Of course,” my father says, just as emotionless as ever.
Ainslee Emlyn and her armies are one of Sylvantia’s only allies.
The goddess Adelyth refused to take part in the war that ravages Nyth, instead commanding her champion to protect the innocents.
While the Goddess of Death draws power from those that are killed, Adelyth draws power from the ones that are saved.
She may be Fae and Godforged, but our forces have worked together to save humans for many years.
Without Ainslee’s help, Sylvantia would have had a much more difficult time.
While no Priest would ever truly trust one of the Godforged, we’ve learned how powerful an ally she and her forces can be.
Our purposes are similar, and as long as that holds true, we’re willing to work with them when the need calls.
“Nyxthos’s champion, Echo Vael, fell in battle with Azric a month ago. Nyxthos is holding a set of trials to decide the next Champion of Darkness and Secrets in a fortnight. He’s opening it up to anyone, humans included, and I need one of your Priests to win it.”
For the first time in probably years, my father laughs. Ainslee doesn’t seem amused, and she says rather tersely, “I don’t see why that would be anything to laugh about.”
My father composes himself, though he doesn’t quite wipe the smile off his lips.
“Countess Ainslee, you know as well as I do that the Order of the Priests does not involve itself in the gods’ war.
Why would I send one of my best Priests to compete and most likely die to become a part of the thing we’re doing our best to protect ourselves against?
And for Nyxthos, at that. The God of Secrets and Darkness.
Why would I let someone who knows almost all the secrets that I’ve kept hidden for nearly eighty years offer himself and all of his knowledge to a god? ”
“Because it will save lives. Human lives as well as Immortals. Nyxthos’s Mages could keep a tighter rein on their creatures, but Echo didn’t seem to think that was necessary.
Look at how Kaelith or Caeldra’s champions have kept their forces from attacking random settlements.
If battles happen near a village or city, yes, innocents would still die, but they don’t hunt those innocents.
They don’t allow their creatures to run the border villages freely. ”
My father shakes his head solemnly, the laughter all but gone from him now. “I cannot risk any of the Priests, nor can I risk our secrets. The answer is no.”
“You don’t have to risk your secrets, Rhaskar.
I have spoken with Azric about what happens when one of the other Champions is created.
The god they pledge their loyalty to does not own their mind.
All the Champions hold thoughts and secrets from their gods.
Granted, if Nyxthos went to war with Sylvantia, your Priest would know how to counter many of your defenses, but the gods are done fighting with you, Rhaskar. ”
She grinds her teeth in frustration as my father turns to leave.
“Wait,” she says. “Saelira has spoken again. For the first time since Azric’s birth, she’s come back from her world.
She told the gods one of them would die soon.
It will be the first god’s death since Lysara killed Eldrin.
They’re afraid. They’re… hiding. Whoever you send will have much more control over an entire kingdom. They’ll be Godforged, themselves.”
At this, my father stops and looks down at Ainslee.
“You were right to bring this to me, but the risks are too great. I have protected my people thus far. Sylvantia is a kingdom where humanity still thrives. We have held back the storm of this war for eighty years, and while I took risks when I was a young man, they were necessary. This isn’t.
I’m sorry, Ainslee. I cannot give you what you ask. ”
I look from my father to Ainslee and back at him as they stare at each other.
“The man that is not willing to risk his safety to become more powerful, more capable of protecting his people, is not a man worthy of the Priesthood.” I say the words slowly and softly, but they carry a weight that no argument from me ever could.
He turns to me, deciding that his conversation with the Countess is done. “This is why women are not allowed within the Order, Fiona. You are thinking with your heart, not with your head. Now, we were having a discussion before Countess Ainslee brought us this news. Let’s return to it.”
The way my father talked to me only moments before Ainslee arrived told me everything I needed to know about my future.
I will never become a Priest. I will never lead soldiers into battle to protect my people.
My place will be that of a princess who will never leave her mark on the world, who will never matter.
I will never be the person I’m sure I was meant to be.
I smile at him and stand up, but instead of following him, I turn to Ainslee. “I will become the ally you need, Countess. I will join Nyxthos’s trials and do my best to take control over the Kingdom of Dunloch.”
A snarl comes from Rhaskar. “You will not. I command you to go back to your quarters, Fiona Thorne.”
I turn my head to look at him and smile cruelly. “I am not a Priest, as you’ve said so many times, and you are not a king. Your commands are that of a father to his daughter, and I am twenty-five. They mean nothing.”
The shock and pain on his face hurt more than I’d like to admit, but after the conversation I just had with him, I know that this will probably be my only chance to matter.
I saw what it was like on the border. I may not be able to stop Azric’s Mindless, but the demons that roam the borders of Dunloch are far worse.
How many lives could be saved by reducing the number that hunt humans along that border?
And even more importantly, as Ainslee said, what else could I do to help the world? I may not be able to stop everything, but I could certainly do something.
“I will take part in the trials, Countess Ainslee.”
“Fiona,” she says slowly, her eyes going back to my father for a moment before continuing, “you need to understand what you’re agreeing to.
The trials won’t be between humans. Your abilities won’t give you a leg up.
In fact, they may not even level the playing field.
I’ve fought beside Rhaskar. I know what you can do when you need to, but the abilities of the people who will be vying for this position aren’t something to scoff at.
These trials will likely end with nearly all the competitors dying. ”
I’ve spent my life preparing for something, if not to become a Priest. I won’t let my life go to waste as just Rhaskar Thorne’s daughter.
“I’m not afraid of death, Countess. I’m afraid to live without making a difference.
Nyxthos is the God of Secrets and Darkness, and while I may be human, my life has revolved around secrets.
I’m not afraid of the dark, nor of what hides within it. ”
“It’s okay, Ainslee,” Darian says with a grin. “She won’t be going alone. I’ll be entering with her. I’d considered it before, but I’d been a little worried that it’d be too boring. With little Fi at my side, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it enjoyable.”
Ainslee looks at her brother for a long moment before nodding. Then she looks at my father, who hasn’t said a word since I defied him. “I’m sorry, Rhaskar. I can’t refuse her, even though she’s your daughter. This is too important.”
He says nothing, but I can feel his eyes burning into my back. “How do we enter this thing?” I finally say, breaking the silence.
She gives me a smile and pulls a small mirror from a hip pouch. Barely bigger than her palm, it’s covered in strange sigils. “Touch the mirror, and my husband will be on the other side. He’ll show you what to do, and then he’ll send you back here so you can prepare for the next two weeks.”
I take a deep breath to center myself before pressing shaking fingers against the glass of the mirror, and it feels like when I use the Mark of the Cloak.
Except, instead of ending up in the place I’d held in my mind, I appear in a small room I immediately recognize as part of the Keep of Steel.
What have I gotten myself into? I thought I was brave when I’d snuck into Averna.
The Keep of Steel is in Draenyth, the heart of everything happening in this war.
It’s the last place a human should be, and it’s even more dangerous for a Priest.