The Faoii watched, horrified, as a single crack jagged its way down mighty Illindria’s head and body. It jolted with sporadic movements before finally stopping at Her unshod feet.
Time froze as the Eternal One stood serenely, smiling at all Her children . . . before shattering into a million pieces of powdery dust.
The explosion caught Preoii-Aleena full-force, flinging her across the room and into a far wall. Kaiya lost sight of her as the army of burly men suddenly moved, swarming out into the pews, hewing down those who met them in the early morning light. She and a hundred other Faoii screamed their defiance at the coming horde.
Chaos exploded in the chapel. Every woman, be she Faoii, Cleroii, or Preoii, launched herself into the battle. Battle cries and healing songs clashed against each other in the air as the women rushed against the invaders. Kaiya and Mollie joined the swarm, flowing between men and women alike. Even without needing to speak, they knew their goal.
Kaiya had already dropped her whetstone. She dodged beneath a man’s wide swing, then straightened and rammed the blade of her dagger into the soft flesh beneath his jaw. The screams of the dying echoed in her ears as she lunged past another sword. Bracing down, Kaiya pushed an opponent’s shield upward and, with Mollie’s help, forced it forward into his mouth. Blood and teeth splattered the floor.
Another took the fallen man’s place, and Mollie slid forward to break his kneecap with her booted heel. Kaiya finished him off with a head butt that drove his nose into his brain. The stench of blood and death surrounded them, but Kaiya only squared her shoulders, intent on finding a man she couldn’t yet see over the crowd.
The swarm got denser as Kaiya and Mollie neared their adversary, but they saw Faoii-Leigh hacking her way toward the sorcerer. Awed at her strength even without a shield mate, the girls pressed harder. The number of bodies behind them was insignificant compared to the mound that surrounded the stoic mage and his crackling blade.
Dozens of lifeless eyes stared at Kaiya as she danced her way around another man. This one moved too slowly, and as he lunged, she brought her knife down on his arm, piercing it before jumping up and using her entire body weight to snap the bone.
She tore the brutish sword—criukli, she vaguely remembered from one of the classes she thought she’d slept through—from the man’s limp hand and sliced at him again. His gauntleted fist clattered to the floor.
Undeterred, Kaiya spun, her arm outstretched, aiming for the weak armor encasing his neck, but was stopped by a violent kick to her abdomen. She stumbled, trying to focus around suddenly empty lungs and teary eyes. This new opponent had already brought his foot back down to better stabilize the man that Kaiya had injured, and his eyes only momentarily flicked to the bloody stump cradled to his comrade’s chest. Then he refocused his gaze on Kaiya, and the fury there was palpable. Using his shield arm to support his wounded comrade, the new warrior swung a jagged criukli over his ally’s shoulder, aiming for Kaiya’s head.
Kaiya ducked. Without a shield to protect her, it was her only choice. But too late did she remember to shove Mollie out of the way. She tried to bring her sword back up to block the blow, but it had already passed her.
Behind her, Mollie’s skull split open under the sword’s weight. She dropped limply, her final battle cry unspoken.
Kaiya could only stare as Mollie sank to the ground, her green eyes open and unseeing. All training, all anger, all fear was forgotten. Something landed heavily against her chest, but she barely felt it, did not try to catch herself as she fell. Instead, she simply lay where she was and stared at her best friend—her lifelong companion, eyes wide above the growing pool of her own blood. This was not a reality Kaiya could accept or understand. This wasn’t right. Her vision swam as a furious rage pulled at her brows.
It felt like ages passed before Kaiya realized she was on her feet again. “I am Faoii.” The words rang out of her mouth as her sword launched at the nearest horned helm. She didn’t even know if it was Mollie’s destroyer or if he had turned to attack a different Faoii. It didn’t matter. She blamed them all. “I am the harbinger of justice and truth.” Blood sprayed. “I am the strength of the weak and the voice of the silent.” Mollie’s eyes stared at her, her mouth white and partially open. “My blade is my arm, and as such is the arm of all people.” Another Faoii fell to her right, brought low by a Croeli blade. “Wherever I am, there will a weapon against injustice always be.” She cut down a struggling man that lay broken to her left. “And with this weapon, I will protect the weak and purge all evil in the land.”
Through the fray, Kaiya caught the glint of the ivy helm of an ascended Faoii somewhere toward the end of the hall. She quickened her onslaught. “I will be ready to perform my duty for the weak at all times.” She heard a hint of a healing song rise above the noise in the room, but it was cut short. “And through this, I shall remember that all things are sacred and all souls worthwhile.” She held her blade still just long enough to allow a young Cleroii to pass under it before slashing down at the Croeli in pursuit. “But my blade will be held above all, for it protects all, and shall be a part of me.” The flash of an ivy helm again, closer now. “For I am Faoii. My tongue will never forget the words of truth, for when I speak, then will the Goddess hear.” She passed a piece of Illindria’s broken statue. “And I am only Faoii in Her presence.”
She continued forward, screaming now, unaware of what she hit or whether she herself was injured. “I am the Weaver of the Tapestry. I see the threads through all the world and guide them with the Goddess’s eye.” Blood oozed from a dozen superficial wounds, but she felt none of them. “Above all, I am Faoii, and my blade will sing with the voice of every throat that has cried out against injustice and dance with the steps of every innocent child!”
She could see the sorcerer now, above the heads of fighting armies, and could see the ivy helm of her comrade, too. “I will lead the choir, and the voice of my sword will deafen the ears of my enemies.” Her voice rose to a fervor she wouldn’t have believed possible. “For I am Faoii!”
She was there now, swinging her sword at the head of the tattooed destroyer. The glistening ivy helm that had served as her beacon moved just barely as Faoii-Leigh struggled to push herself back up, one arm clutched to her bleeding side. But the seasoned Faoii was not dead yet, and her eyes flashed as she straightened. With a painful heave, she brought her bronze shield up just long enough to block the sorcerer’s blade, still crackling with magic, as he swung it toward the screaming Kaiya.
Kaiya’s blade, slick and gleaming crimson, collided with the tattooed head. But no blood sprayed. There was no crack of bone or splattering of brains. Instead, the sword rang out with the sound of a grand bell. It echoed through eternity.
As the chime faded, it seemed to Kaiya that the entire room was deathly silent except for the soft laughter of this unnamed fiend. She blinked. The chapel was gone. The girls, the sunlight, the Goddess. All gone. She was alone, and the biting air of a winter that hadn’t come yet clung to her body with icy fingers, pulling at all parts of her except for a spot of warmth that swelled outward from her belly. She looked down and blinked again. Surely that knife covered with blood was not coming out of her stomach. Surely that red ooze was not her life covering the floor. Her vision dimmed and tilted. Surely that laugh was not still ringing in her ears . . . Surely . . .
3
The laughter continued for a long time, sometimes mixing with a bell. Kaiya listened. Cheers floated toward her from far away. A man’s voice. This is the last temple. Our unjust exile has finally ended, my brothers. More cheers faded into the distance. Kaiya drifted between emptiness and nothingness while the laughter and voices slowly washed away only to be replaced by . . . by what? She strained her ears. Singing?
Yes. Singing. It was dim . . . so dim. But striking and enchanting. A beautiful, comforting song. So far away. So familiar.
Kaiya was sure she should be sharpening a blade, but she couldn’t find it. Why
did she want to do that, again? It seemed so important at the time. Oh, well. It’ll show up eventually.
She drifted. Slowly, peacefully. It would be easy to just . . . float away. That would be nice, right?
That sound again. What was that?
Faoii, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?
Maybe she should answer before floating away. That would be the nice thing to do. Kaiya tried to blink her eyes open. Tried to respond.
Can you hear me?
Kaiya tried to move.
Her groan was louder than the song’s quiet whispers. Silence prevailed for a moment.
“Who’s there?” The call was tired and weak, but Kaiya heard it. Again she tried to respond. Why couldn’t she open her eyes? They were coated with something . . . sticky. And thick. Honey? Sap? Slowly . . . oh, so slowly . . . she peeled her lids apart.
Blood. There was blood everywhere. Surely even oceans were not as wet as this. And bodies. Men, women, Faoii, Cleroii. Everyone. The bodies were not laid out or peaceful in their passing, but were left how they fell: broken and wide-eyed. Kaiya felt bile rise in her throat.
Something heavy was on top of her. Struggling, Kaiya managed to lift it away, and the obstruction fell to the side with a clang. Faoii-Leigh’s shield. The warrior lay next to her, pale and still, her blood staining the scattered pieces of Illindria’s statue. Kaiya reached over to close the unblinking eyes, her arm shaking. “Better battles, Faoii,” she whispered.
“Who is there? That clatter . . . who are you?” the voice continued, and Kaiya at last rose. Awkwardly, like a newborn foal, she stood on shaky calves.
“I’m here.” Kaiya spoke uncertainly, afraid of who would be looking for her in a battlefield like this. But the voice did not seem frightening.
“Come in front of me. I cannot see you. I can only sense you . . . Faoii. Yes, I am sure of it. You are Faoii. Come closer, child. I cannot sing anymore.” Kaiya turned around slowly, looking for the whispers’ source.
She found it, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. In the center of the room, the chandeliers had been broken and torn from the ceiling, and from their dangling skeletons, long, thorny vines with broad, flat leaves snaked their way around Preoii-Aleena’s wrists and torso, and she hung limply in midair.
The vines clung to her head in a bloody diadem and twisted through her eye sockets. Kaiya felt the bile rise in her throat again but fought it back down. Trembling, she dragged her feet forward.
It seemed like she crossed miles before reaching her destination. “Preoii . . .” Her whisper seemed deafening in the silence, and Kaiya hit her knees. Slowly, she lifted quivering hands to touch the Preoii’s thorny feet. “Preoii-Aleena, I’m so sorry.”
“You must not touch me, child. I fear that this plant may be bred from ton—” The Preoii stopped herself and started again, her voice quiet. “Something evil from long ago. I am afraid, little one, that you must leave me like this.”
“Preoii-Aleena, I can’t. I—”
“Shhh, Kaiya-Faoii. It is pretty little Kaiya, is it not? Of course. I’d recognize that undisciplined aura anywhere.” Despite everything, the Preoii smiled, chuckling under her breath. “Of course it would be. Pretty little Kaiya. So much older now than when you came to us. We never thought we would get your stubborn curls into a braid—” She was wracked with a rattling cough.
“Kaiya-Faoii, I am sorry I could save only you. My songs once could have healed twice as many as those that have fallen here, but these vile thorns have torn through the magic of this place. It is not a very fitting end, I’m afraid. Our fallen sisters deserve to be laid to rest where there is still magic. Where people will sense for centuries to come that this is where Faoii lived and died. But the Croeli have desecrated even our legacy.”
The vines tugged on the skin of Preoii-Aleena’s forehead, and she clenched her teeth shut with a snap. The muscles in her arms tensed against the pain, and for the first time Kaiya realized how strong the Preoii really was. Beneath the soft ivory skin and auburn hair, Aleena was still Faoii. And her voice was filled with vengeance, drawing power from her hatred for the Croeli foe, when she said, “May the Goddess strike down the Croeli with Her eternal blade. She has seen the ending of this tale. When the Everlasting Tapestry frays, Croeli-Thinir will be at its center—if She does not destroy him first.”
The vines slithered forward as the power around her grew, and Preoii-Aleena sagged beneath them, the last of her strength sapped by the dark magic of their source. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper.
“Kaiya-Faoii, you are the last of our Order. You are not just Faoii as you were, but you are now all Faoii. Every throat that ever sang in these walls, every breath and cry and laugh, is part of your blade now. You carry all of the Order with you.” Preoii-Aleena stopped as another cough tore through her. Blood splattered the floor at Kaiya’s feet. “You must not be afraid, Faoii, for as long as one blade still sings, there will be justice. Tell the world what has happened here. Tell them to fear the Croeli’s destructive horned god. You are strong, little Faoii. I, and the Goddess, have faith in you.” Tears mixed with the blood of Preoii-Aleena’s ruined eyes as she gasped for breath. “Arise, Kaiya-Faoii . . . as Faoii-Kaiya.”
Kaiya rose. There was no cheer or sense of honor as she had always expected would come with her ascension. There was only a cold whistle as a breeze passed through the dying chamber and a soft shuck sound as the vines continued to snake their way over Preoii-Aleena’s skin.
“To the armory, Faoii. You must prepare for your crusade. I cannot go with you to help you find the blade that is meant to be your arm, but I have faith you will find it. Go. And know that you are all of us.”
Kaiya stuttered for a moment before dropping her eyes. “Preoii-Aleena, I couldn’t even hurt him. My sword just rang off his skin. I can’t do this. I can’t—” Kaiya saw the faintest hint of a smile on Preoii-Aleena’s face.
“Of course you can, Kaiya. You’re so much stronger than you know.” Her words softened as her head dropped forward. “Your mother would have been so proud . . .” The last whisper was barely louder than the whistle of the wind in the halls, but Kaiya’s head snapped up, regardless, desperate to hear more. But there was no more sound. Just the soft shuck, shuck, shuck of the vines. She stood there, stunned into silence. Dust and plaster sprinkled down from the rafters as the creepers continued their slow slither in the darkness.
Kaiya did not know how long she stood there. Hours? Years? Time held no meaning for her. An eternity might have passed when, body shaking and knees weak, Kaiya turned toward the door. She lifted her eyes toward the ceiling as a single ray of sunlight struggled its way through the crumbling dome. For the first time, her eyes flooded with tears as she realized the enormity of Preoii-Aleena’s words.
“I am Faoii.”
4
The stars were hidden by smoke when Kaiya finally urged the solitary gelding she’d found in the stables down the rocky cliffs leading away from the Monastery of the Eternal Blade. A smallish, grey beast, it had not surprised her that the large Croeli with their heavy armor had left him and the weakest mares behind. Not that it really mattered now. Not that any of it really mattered anymore. Her face was dark with soot and ash, but no new streaks of salty tears had washed away the grime.
Though never heavily guarded, the armory had always been forbidden to the unascended, and Kaiya had never been inside it before today. She had not been surprised to find that the room had been raided, though little was missing. The swords there were too light and the armor too small for the Croeli to value.
She wrapped a gloved hand around her sword hilt. While perfectly capable of wielding a classic blade or even the jagged criukli if necessary, Faoii were trained from childhood to use the smaller, quicker fantoii. Years of practice had honed her skills, each hour aimed at the goal of eventually receiving her own weapon. The hilt in her hand was her greatest accomplishment; the mark of a true Faoii.
Kaiya spit to the side. Yeah, right. Some accomplishment.
There had been no ceremony, no sense of honor. No one alive knew that Kaiya had at last been granted ascension—that she was Faoii-Kaiya instead of Kaiya-Faoii. So no one went with her to find the breastplate, ivy helm, and fantoii that were the symbols of her rank. Kaiya had just dug through combat gear, tossing aside broken remnants before selecting a shield and an ivy helm at random from the discarded mess. Even the breastplate she’d found was too big for her. She sighed, disgusted with herself. She felt like a vulture picking through carrion.
The fantoii had taken longer to find. She must have swung a dozen blades, hoping to hear the one that would sing with the voices of all she had promised to uphold, but each one only whistled in the tomblike hall. She’d thrown several down in frustration. Didn’t the stories always talk of a connection between fantoii and Faoii? Wasn’t there supposed to be a cry or song with each swing of the blade? Faoii-Leigh’s sword had screamed in battle. It had cried out with the voices of a hundred souls and had reassured the unascended that they had the Goddess on their side, that they would always prevail on the side of good. That assurance had often lifted Kaiya’s heart during the more frustrating moments of monastery life. It had been beautiful.
The Last Faoii Page 2
