by Matthew Ward
She was level with me now, and little more than a pace distant. Her proximity was overwhelming. All the serathi were beautiful, but the serathiel outshone them all. She was slender without being willowy, her features delicate without appearing fragile. She seemed perhaps a little older than the others, but I sensed that this was a trick of her poise and confidence, rather than anything physical. After all, I doubted my preconceptions of age and aspect would find little purchase on an immortal such as the serathiel. She was, however, undoubtedly taller than her fellows, and dressed in a gown of scarlet cloth and golden thread that perfectly complemented her form. The skirts gathered about the her feet as she walked, creating the illusion that she glided across the floor, rather than strode. Her only marks of status, at least the only ones I could see, were the golden ribbons braided through her coiled black hair, and a circlet of gold and rubies set upon her brow.
Yet if the serathiel was more beautiful than her subjects, then so too was she somehow colder. Though her appearance was fit to provoke all manner of earthly desires, her bearing stilled them. Her force of will was almost a physical presence; regal, majestic and absolutely not to be trifled with. Her stare was to blame as much as anything. No matter how broad or sympathetic the smile, those cold blue eyes would always be alert and watchful. I was quite sure that this was a being well-used to having her commands followed without question.
An unfamiliar feeling crept along my spine, part wonder, and part apprehension. I hadn't felt so insignificant since that day, many long years ago, when my father had presented me to the Golden Court for the first time. I'd been only a few summers old, and little accustomed to the pomp and splendour of the Emperor's council. To my childish eyes, every man gathered there had seemed a fearsome warrior, and every woman a beautiful goddess. This was that same feeling, but magnified a hundredfold.
"The serathi are my sisters and address me as the same, but that would hardly be appropriate in your case." The serathiel placed a hand under my chin and gently raised my eyes to meet hers. "Adanika tells me you are a man of rank in your own land, so I see nothing amiss in you addressing me as an equal. My name is Azyra of the First Circle, Herald of the Radiant."
It was cleverly done. On the face of it, her gesture was kind, even generous, but it was false all the same. We were not equals, she and I. By forgiving the gulf between us, Azyra had merely drawn further attention to it, and thus reminded me of my place.
"And you, I believe, are Edric Saran." The serathiel circled behind me, her hand letting go of my chin and running lazily across my shoulder. "Ambassador, warrior and, unless I miss my guess, something more as well."
I turned to face her. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Your soul has been touched by Great Powers, Edric," Azyra explained. "The signs are there to see for those who have the wit to recognise them." She moved behind me again. "The mark of the Evermoon is old, but no less visible for all that, whilst those left by the Raven and the Thorn are much more recent. And there is something else there also, something I can't quite..."
There was a long pause that I took to be the serathiel gathering her thoughts. I hoped she was speaking figuratively. The Evermoon, I guessed, was Ashana, whereas the Raven I knew to be Malgyne, God of the Dead, and the Thorn was his eternal enemy, Jack, Lord of the Living Realm. The thought that my dealings with them might have left some lingering influence...
"Calm yourself, Edric," Azyra said soothingly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "The marks I refer to are but echoes of association, not brands or chains. The world you have known is changing, and that you stand here speaks much of your ability to thrive in the days yet before us."
"And what times are those?" I asked, at once confused and worried by Azyra's words.
"The Reckoning is almost here." Azyra leaned close. "But before that, the Radiant shall return to us, as was prophesied."
"Return? You mean she isn't here?" Somehow I'd assumed Skyhaven was home to the Radiant just as it was to the serathi.
Azyra laughed sadly. "Has so much knowledge been lost?" She gestured expansively to the throne. Except that I now saw that there were three thrones arranged back to back, so that the occupants would face outward and away from each other. "I am now the eldest of my kind, but once I had two sisters; my equals in rank and power. We served the Radiant with our every breath and deed. We were her heralds in all the lands of the world, and brought her blessings to those souls worthy enough to bear them. For centuries, we guided your ancestors from the Courts of Heaven, and brought a portion of the Radiant's light to the lands below."
Azyra's face grew sad, and she turned away, as if shamed by her sense of loss. "Then there was war amongst the Great Powers. Many were lost, our beloved mistress among them. My eldest sisters too were taken, and Skyhaven reduced to the forlorn state you have seen today."
"It doesn't strike me as forlorn."
"It wouldn't." Azyra gazed at me, her skin almost blue in the moonlight. "You were not here in its elder days. But without the Radiant to guide us, it has been empty, we have been empty. As the only remaining herald, I rule in her place, yet I am but a custodian until her return. A day which I pray will come soon."
The serathiel spoke with infectious conviction. Her hope of the Radiant's return was no different to the Tressians' belief that Sidara, their own semi-mythical lady of light, would one day deliver them. Stretching the point even further, I supposed it was not so dissimilar to my own status in the eyes of some Hadari, my uncle especially. Even Scarface's cultists sought a redeemer. It was both reassuring and disappointing to find that even immortal beings could hope for better days to come.
"And what of this Reckoning?" I asked, little supposing I would like the answer.
"The wars of the Great Powers ended in a truce forged by the highest law. That truce has now been broken."
I suppressed a shudder. Azyra had spoken simply, as if discussing mundane matters, but the import of her words was not lost on me. The initial battle between Jack and Malgyne, the Thorn and the Raven, had almost plunged the living realm into the twilight of Otherworld. If that had been only the opening salvo in a greater conflict...
"How long do we have?" My mind flickered to Zorya, and her hints of a war that was to come.
"Years, decades, centuries, hours, minutes. Who can say? But the war cannot commence until the Radiant has returned. All of the players must be in place before the game begins."
"How can you possibly see this as a game?" I demanded.
Azyra ran her fingers across my cheek. "A very mortal perspective. Everything is a game; only the scale of victory or defeat changes."
I pulled away, fighting to contain growing anger. "You'll forgive me for saying so, but that's the attitude I've come to expect from immortals. Those I encountered before cared nothing for the rest of us, only their own goals. Are you any different?"
Azyra's eyes flared, and the gulf between us widened. "Do you think I do not know the cost? I have lost my eldest sisters, and my heart aches with their absence." She glanced at the empty throne. "Immortality is not an unconditional blessing. Our spirits can become weary, our hearts too heavy to endure. We can succumb to madness, and even to betrayal. Mortals are accustomed to the idea of death. Your every step leads you towards it. There must be some comfort in that, of the concept of laying down one's burdens. We lack that purpose. My sisters and I will go on until the madness takes us, and we betray all that we have known."
As the serathiel spoke, her aura of self-assuredness cracked. In that moment, I felt pity for her, and my anger subsided. "I'm sorry."
Azyra bowed her head. "For nothing. I too should have spoken more carefully." A single perfect tear glistened on her cheek. "The Reckoning is nigh. We cannot prevent it, though I wish it were otherwise. All we can do is prepare the world for what is coming. This is why we are returning."
"Returning?"
"Yes. For centuries, we have remained apart from the world, keeping to the terms of the truce
. We have influenced mortals from a distance, but now it is time for us to take a more direct role. We have already brought the Radiant's light to the land you know as Thrakkia. This is merely the beginning. It is my hope that you will help us carry that light to other lands ere it is too late."
My mind raced. I'd little doubt that Azyra wasn't being entirely straightforward. Such was the unfortunate habit of rulers and immortals, and the serathiel was both. "Is that why you summoned me here?"
"No, not at first. I confess to curiosity as to what manner of creature Adanika insisted upon bringing to Skyhaven. I had a passing fancy that perhaps you might be kin to Koschai, but I see now that you are not."
I'd never met anyone who appeared less inclined to passing fancies, let alone to the indulgence of the same, but I let Azyra's comment pass. She'd clearly been looking for something, but equally clearly had no intention of telling me what that was, or even if she'd found it. I was starting to realise that it was as important to listen to what the serathi did not say as to what they did. "Why then do you want my help?"
"Over the centuries, many mortals have stood before me, Edric Saran. None challenged my words as you have. That takes rare courage."
I grimaced. "Most would call it arrogance, rather than courage."
Azyra nodded. "But the one can be transmuted into the other."
"Assuming that's true, what is it that you're asking me to do?"
"What you would have done anyway: help prepare for what is coming. All that would be different is that you would have our support. You would be an emissary from the highest court."
"I..." So compelling was the serathiel's offer, so clearly righteous, that my lips almost blurted out agreement before my mind had fully registered the intent. Something held me back, though I wasn't sure what. Azyra regarded me with curiosity, and little wonder, for I daresay the confusion on my face made for interesting viewing.
"Are you unwell, Edric Saran?"
I shook my head. "No, but I'm clearly more tired than I thought." I closed my eyes. It seemed to help. In the darkness, the nobler part of my soul – the part that had been so eager to cast in its lot with the serathi – found itself overwhelmed by the larger and more determined portion that had done everything it could to help me avoid taking the Imperial crown.
"Will you help us?" Azyra enquired.
I opened my eyes again, and the nobler part of my soul took strength from the light. But not enough. "Perhaps, but..."
"...but such decisions cannot be made upon the spur of the moment," Azyra finished for me, a glint of disappointment in her eyes. "I quite understand."
"It's not a refusal, not a permanent one, at least."
"As you say. But please consider my words. You wish to return to your people, and I ask nothing different. Merely that when you return, you do so as our emissary."
The serathiel was determined to enlist me in her cause, I had to give her that. "It's not a small thing to ask. What manner of ally would I be if I cast my lot in with you when I know so little?"
"A trusting one." The night grew somehow darker at her tone. "But perhaps a foolish one as well. Very well, what must we do to earn your trust? What must I do to earn your trust?
"That's not an easy question to answer. I'm afraid my previous dealings with immortals have not exactly been straightforward."
"And this is enough to make you suspicious of my friendship?"
"Let us say rather that it has taught me caution. Please understand. You've had centuries to prepare for this conversation. I haven't. Though the boundaries of my understanding are much broader than they once were, I need time to understand it all."
I hoped my answer would satisfy the serathiel, because I didn't really want to go into my other reasons – chiefly that a fair face and noble words were no guarantee of an honourable cause.
I was also embarrassed at how quickly I'd nearly accepted Azyra's offer. Had I seen it as a way of evading the Empire's throne? The serathiel was offering me a role in works that would fill a lifetime – maybe more than one lifetime – and none could have argued that I'd set aside my destiny to embrace something selfish or trivial.
Yet if I were so determined not to shoulder the responsibilities and strictures of governing an Empire, why should the path that the serathiel offered seem any more appealing? Preparing the world, or at least the corner of it I called home, for this 'Reckoning' would bring responsibilities no lighter than those I sought to avoid, so why did I see them as more appealing. Was it the notion that this would be somehow more worthy than becoming emperor? Or was it that rejecting my birthright had somehow become a notion of stubborn pride, rather than principle?
"An important question never has a simple response, but that only makes it more vital an answer be found," Azyra told me softly.
I wondered whether she had seen more of my thoughts than I would have liked. It occurred to me that the serathiel was learning far more of me than was I of her, and I resolved to provoke a few direct answers.
"Why? Why is it so important that I agree to help you?"
"Why not?" Azyra countered. "Your eyes have already seen much of what is hidden from other mortals; you have witnessed some of the dangers the world faces."
"So you're simply exploiting the coincidence of my presence?" Never in my life had I been reassessed from 'special' to 'convenient' so quickly. I should have been annoyed, but it somehow didn't seem to matter.
"We do not seek to exploit you. Nor is there any coincidence in this life, Edric. Fate did not bring you here, Adanika did."
"And very grateful I am. I hope she didn't break any of your laws?"
Azyra smiled. "On Skyhaven, propriety ends when need begins. Adanika was correct to bring you here."
Yet again, she hadn't really answered my question. "What was she looking for when she found me?"
"I did not say that she was looking for anything. The Court of Heavens is balanced by three voices: Compassion, Truth and Retribution. Adanika gives voice to truth, and is therefore the Speaker of Truth. Insisting that the truth cannot be caged, she has always travelled further afield than my other sisters, whether I wish her to or not."
She spoke with a disapproving tone, and it occurred to me that it would be a mistake to think the serathi unanimous in thought and deed. Strangely, this made me more inclined to trust them, not less. Both Jack and Malgyne had relied on thoughtless and indentured servants. That the Radiant's daughters had latitude of purpose made them more mortal.
"I will not deny that I find Adanika's nature vexing on occasion," Azyra allowed, "but her recent actions have given me cause to remember that there are paths beyond the obvious. As I said, I believe that you will be a great asset to our cause, and I would never have known this save for Adanika's actions."
"And if I decline your offer?"
"Then you shall be our friend. And if not our friend, you shall at least be our guest for a time."
Was the implied threat deliberate? "As Scarface is your guest?" It was a shot into the dark. I didn't know for sure that Adanika had brought the cultist leader to Skyhaven.
"I do not know this appellation." Azyra frowned. "No, I understand. You refer to Torvald Korag, your attacker. How typical for one mortal to reduce another to mere physicality."
"Is he here?"
This time, the serathiel gave up a direct answer. "Indeed."
"I'd like to speak with him."
"Why do you wish this, Edric Saran?"
"I'd hoped to question him."
The serathiel nodded with slow understanding. "Yes, I see why you would find that of use. Sadly, such a conversation is not possible. He has been judged by the Courts of Heaven."
I couldn't help but find that ominous. "Is he dead?"
"No, but you cannot speak with him."
Bemused, I changed tack again. "Alright, what about Koschai? Is he a guest, or a prisoner?"
"What did he tell you?" Her tone wasn't quite cold, but it wasn't exactly friendly either.<
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"With respect, that isn't the question. Given what we've discussed concerning trust, I believe the question is 'what will you tell me?'"
A spark of irritation flared in Azyra's perfect eyes. "I do not much like being tested, Edric Saran. I enjoy failing tests even less." For a moment, I wondered if I'd pushed too hard, but then her expression thawed. "As it happens, Koschai is indeed a guest. Furthermore, he is not here by my choosing. Adanika took it upon herself to rescue him some years ago, even though to do so was to make it appear that we had broken the truce. Fortunately, her actions went unseen."
"Is that why he can't leave?"
Azyra shot me an irritated look. "He cannot leave because he would not live for more than an hour beyond Skyhaven, as I'm sure he told you."
"Can I leave? Can my friends?"
"At any point you wish," she sighed. "So many questions. Are all mortals so exasperating?"
I thought of Constans and his eternal smile. "Actually, I'm not remotely the worst of my kind. I am, however, blunt, suspicious and ill-mannered. For those things, I apologise."
Contrition seemed to mollify the serathiel, and she bowed her head in acknowledgement. "This is precisely the reason we need you to work with us. I fear my patience would be worn thin dealing often with mortals. In any case, you and your friends are most certainly not prisoners. If you no longer wish our hospitality, you may depart."
"I would rather wait until Calda has recovered," I told her. "Though I might need Jamar, my bodyguard, to return in my stead."
"As you wish." The serathiel climbed the steps of the dais and stood before her throne. "But you need not concern yourself about your friend. Here she will have only the best of care, whether you are present or not. Stay if you wish. Go if you wish. I shall not pressure you."
The dismissal was obvious. "You've given me much to think about." I bowed low. "I'll give you an answer tomorrow."
Azyra nodded, though whether in acknowledgement or agreement, I couldn't be sure. Taking one last look around me, I left the Court of Heavens and descended the stairs. Adanika awaited me on the balcony below, and a few minutes later I was back in my quarters, sharing my confusion and my unanswered questions with Jamar.
