Chapter 28 #2
Father held the piece of armor closer to the fire and twisted it so that it glittered in the orange light.
It looked like magic rocks that had been crushed, embedded into the shadows of the leather.
It didn’t look like it would stop a blade or arrow, but something about the shimmer made Connor think it was stronger than it appeared.
“This warrior sacrificed himself to protect our heritage. His life, his purpose, was just as valuable as what your mother does.”
That was an interesting idea to think about. Connor’s magic churned inside him, responding to the thought of a living shield. That held promise.
“You’ll find your way, Connor. But not unless you get some sleep.” His father’s raised brow had him getting up to go back to his room.
He paused to look back at the odd piece of armor in his father’s hand. “What was his name? That warrior?”
His father smiled at him. “Gedeon. He was one of the protectors of Moriah.”
Connor tunneled his hand through his hair as he came back to the present. It couldn’t actually be similar, could it? He hadn’t thought of the sparkling, ancient piece of armor since he was a child. It had faded into the depths of his memory.
Rising carefully, he grabbed the fur blanket from the other chair and laid a sleeping Opal down on top of it. He went to the wall with the built-in vault and opened it as quietly as he could. There in the back, behind his own documents and belongings, was a heavy amorite box.
The treasure box was of very old construction from back when Zamyra had flourished with magic and created astounding objects from the amorite stone only their mages seemed to be able to work with. A change of rule had stopped that long ago, even before they started killing their mages.
The top panel held an imprint lock. It was a blood lock, another vestige of Zamyra. He’d seen it as a child but had never opened it himself, content to have an heirloom of his father’s close by without disturbing it.
Connor took the box with him and sat in the chair opposite Opal.
Nicking his palm with his blade, he took a steadying breath and pressed his hand to the seal.
Magic not his own swirled and pushed against his senses.
He let a little of his magic rise to meet it.
A slight tingle ran through his hand until the lock disengaged.
The air hissed softly as the box unsealed.
Opening it, he marveled at the preserved set of personal armor.
Leather, embedded with finely ground minerals.
Without the flare of light, they looked unusually constructed but otherwise normal.
Taking out an arm guard, he moved it around in front of the fire until it caught the light, shimmering like star dust had adhered to it.
It was exactly like Daya’s. Enhanced by the same rare mineral as hers. The same rare mineral as the stone that now hung around his neck. How was that possible?
There was only one person he could think to ask. It was time to fulfill his promise and visit Charmaine. He looked over to see that Opal was awake and watching him. “Want to take Rogue out for a ride this morning?”
A smile bloomed on her face.
Merken Residence, Realm of Calderre
Ryan’s mother, Charmaine Merken, sat at her writing desk with Connor hovering next to her. Morning light shone through the windows behind the desk, illuminating the open book she’d pulled from her many shelves. Opal sat nearby, entranced by a large storybook.
Charmaine had been delighted to meet Opal, and they’d had a wonderful visit over breakfast before Connor had admitted his need to talk to her about something more serious. Her workroom was just as he remembered it. Filled with books and scrolls she probably knew by heart.
Her eyes had misted when he told her what he needed to know, and she’d hugged him before searching out the book that now lay open before them.
“The very first project we worked on for your father, Treyvon, was a history of his home realm of Greylon. Oral stories that no one outside the realm knows or remembers. You and Ryan were so young then. Celina just an infant.”
He ran his fingers over the book. “I remember sitting on the floor with Ry, listening to father tell stories. For hours on end, it seemed. That was for this?”
“Yes. We recorded the stories as he told them and eventually crafted this.”
Charmaine gently picked up the arm guard he’d brought with him as if it was a precious artifact. There was recognition in her touch as she examined it.
“My father showed this to you?” he asked.
“Just once, yes, so that I could draw it. I wondered when you’d come asking. Treyvon was certain you would.” She turned to a new section in the book and his father’s familiar script filled the page. “This section, he wrote himself. Moriah was a sacred site in Greylon.”
“What happened to it?” Connor asked.
“It was destroyed during the war. The controversy around magic had swelled, and enough people, especially people in power, decided to force a shift the realm couldn’t turn back from.”
He remembered that… but just in general, not anything specifically about Moriah. Most of the realms had similar stories. A change of power. A disaster. Something that served as a crux point.
“But how? The magic in the earth… how is it even possible to destroy it?” Instinct fed his assumptions rather than any real understanding of how the sacred site worked.
“I don’t know. They burned the earth, and then a few years later began sourcing the natural resources they needed for the war.”
Connor’s head spun as understanding hit. No, it couldn’t be. But he knew he was right from the sick feeling in his gut. “Morvan, the mining site, was once Moriah.”
“Yes,” Charmaine confirmed.
The site was the biggest use of enslaved labor in Greylon.
Their criminals served time there, including anyone discovered with magic.
The realm’s tentative peace with Calderre hinged on the fact that they hadn’t yet begun purchasing mage labor, only using their own people.
At least not that they’d been able to prove.
Something else occurred to him. “They killed Moriah’s guardian, didn’t they?” Destroying that connection would have devastating consequences, he knew it in his soul.
Charmaine nodded.
“Burning the earth didn’t destroy the site. Enslaving their mages and killing their guardian did.” His mind struggled with the logic, but his soul bore the heavy truth. “That darkness bled into Moriah and killed it.”
“Guardians are bound to their site in an elemental way. They can’t exist without each other, not fully. They wiped out everyone, including all the protectors.”
The things Daya had told him were starting to make more sense.
The way she was completely bound and unable to leave the mountain’s shadow.
The life sacrifice required to become a guardian.
But she’d never mentioned anything about protectors.
Because she herself didn’t know, or because she didn’t want to encourage him with dangerous ideas?
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Connor asked. His father had used the term protector as well, in his story about Gedeon. “Were there more individuals than just the guardian who were linked to the site?”
“Yes.” Charmaine touched the armor reverently.
“We don’t know much, but there were others called in service to the site, just none bound so closely as its core guardian.
Protectors, messengers, teachers. Caretakers for the land.
All called magically, selected in some way no one understood, bound to the site and to each other. ”
He looked at the woman who had gone out of her way to love and support him after his own mother died.
Though not officially part of his life in a titled way like Alison had been, she’d extended the circle of her nurturing arms to encompass him in addition to her own son.
Drawn him in for meals and offered him affection without judgment.
Listened to his smallest worries and shared wisdom that reached far beyond the training fields he’d stuck to with Alison. Told him tales of the ancient past to ensure he and Ryan were rooted in a strong foundation for their occupation as warriors. He owed much of his strength and stability to her.
Most importantly, he trusted her implicitly. Felt safe to share his deepest fears and ask for guidance.
“Why would… a sacred site reject someone it had called?” Connor’s heart pounded as he asked the question that had been lurking in his mind, slowly tearing away at his him.
Charmaine hesitated.
“Please. It’s important to me.”
His soul hung on a precipice as he waited for her answer.
“Bonds are about intention, Connor. Even if two people are a perfect match to form a soul bond, that’s only one aspect. It’s about so much more. Wholehearted commitment. Unwavering devotion. But it’s still a choice, even if it seems to happen without conscious decision much of the time.”
What are you willing to give? Hannelore’s question whispered through him with visceral force. He hadn’t understood. Had thought it was a fevered dream. What if it was too late to answer?
“How do I know? If it would accept me?”
“Well, if we were talking about a bond with another person, I would tell you to simply ask.”
Connor forced a laugh. If only it were that easy.
Even if it were, was that what he wanted?
It would alter his life. His very existence.
Opal’s as well, as he’d claimed her as a daughter.
And if he was wrong… it would orphan Opal for the second time in her young life. Could he knowingly take that risk?
His death at the hands of her beloved mountain would devastate Daya.
Shatter Veda’s new relationship with the mountain.
His initial excitement dimmed. Challenging Hannelore put more than just his soul on the line.
It put theirs as well. His mate and daughters.
He would risk himself in a heartbeat, but they were precious to him.
“Can you keep this between us? I… have some things to consider.”
Charmaine gave him a mother’s knowing look and touched his cheek. “Of course. I’ll see if I can find any more information to help you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re like my own, Connor, and a brother to Ryan. Whatever you need that I can give you is yours.”
Connor swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d be giving up so much if he left. More than just his sisters. Ryan and Charmaine were part of his family as well.
“If you do go, I want to meet this guardian someday. She must be something, to put that look in your eye.”
“She is,” he said softly. “So is my other daughter, Veda. Her guardian apprentice.”
Sorrow mixed with the motherly love in Charmaine’s expression. “You left most of your heart behind, didn’t you?”
“Yes. We decided it was the best choice. But…” He ran his hand over the book and shook his head. “This knowledge changes things for me.”
“Da, look!” Opal exclaimed, pulling him out of his intense thoughts.
He reined in his emotions as she came over and lifted her to his lap so that she could put the book she’d brought them on Charmaine’s desk.
“What is it, little mite?” he asked.
“See, it’s you, with wings.” She pointed to an image in the storybook.
Depicted was a warrior with huge wings that appeared to be made of sunlight. A saber was gripped in his hand, ready for use, as he flew amidst thunderous clouds.
His laugh was genuine. “Opal, what story is this?”
“The sky hunters! Sev told us one of the stories. Don’t you remember?”
“No. I must have been on watch that night.”
It didn’t surprise him that Sev had told them some Eldrin legends, but the image in the book did. There was some resemblance, especially with the long gold hair flowing around the warrior’s shoulders. His gaze was focused and intent as he stared out of the pages.
“The legend of the sky hunters has many stories about their winged warriors,” Charmaine said, a smile in her voice as she explained. “This is their leader, Raiden.”
Connor’s response caught in his throat. Oh, Daya. He couldn’t help but grin as he stared at his namesake.