by T. C. Edge
The Prime move as one, limbs flowing at precisely the same moment, expressions mirroring one another. They glide towards the central position between their selected Children, and the crowd start to react as they come into view. It isn't so much a cheer, or roar of applause that greets them. Just a hum in the air, a buzz of excitement as they're spotted at the top of the stairs.
They stop there, swaying their gaze upon their people, their sons and daughters, their family. I wait, anxious to hear them speak once more, to feel that odd sense of great joy, even euphoria, they swept through me when I met them only minutes ago. When I learned that Elian had been selected as Chosen.
Ahead of me.
I wait, but hear nothing. They look down only, but do not speak. Instead, it is the Overseer who steps forward, moving from his position and onto the step below them.
With his multi-coloured robes flowing on the breeze, he smiles at the honour bestowed upon him, his words ringing out so clear and loud, the whistling wind seeming to quieten as he begins to speak.
"People of Olympus," he calls down. "You have gathered here today to welcome a new Chosen. As you all know, some months ago our great Fire-Blood, Master Prost, made his journey to the Eternal Halls. His time among the Chosen was long, and storied, but now his song has been sung. After much deliberation, a new member has been selected to take his place. Our Mother and Father have made their choice."
He draws a breath, dragging things out, relishing the occasion. I know the crowd, far below, must be turning their eyes upon me, and Elian, and Hestia, the three of us lined up beside the Overseer. Analysing our postures, if not our expressions, our faces too far away to see.
They probably know already, I think. I won't surprise them as I had hoped...
The Overseer turns his eyes to us now, one by one. He smiles, and lifts a hand, gesturing towards us as he calls out, speaking to the throng below.
"The three before you have displayed exemplary Fire-Blood abilities. All have achieved the great honour of climbing the Sacred Steps, and only moments ago, were granted a private audience with our Mother and Father. That in itself is victory. All should be respected and shown the honour they deserve."
He smiles again as he looks at us. I see something - some consolation - as his eyes drop upon me, as if he himself expected me to be selected.
"Now," he goes on, voice ringing out louder, "I invite the new Chosen Fire-Blood to step forward. It gives me great privilege to announce that the honour goes to - and this should come as little surprise - Master Prost's son himself." He beams, and the crowd hum louder. "Step forward, Master Elian, Chosen Fire-Blood."
Now it comes; the spreading of roars and cheers. It starts gentle, like distant thunder growing louder as it closes in. The smile that works upon Elian's face is gracefully suppressed, though I notice his body glowing, his cloak brightening as he steps away from Hestia and me, moving to the Overseer's side. The taller man bows as the younger Fire-Blood nears, displaying the respect his new position demands. And then, turning to face the Prime, Elian drops to his knee, and speaks the words of loyalty his place as Chosen requires.
My mind blurs as I watch, the crowd hushing, though unable to hear Elian's quiet recital, intended only for those upon the steps. When done, the Prime nod in unison, and raise those beautiful, perfect smiles. They open out their arms - the Prime male his left, the Prime female her right - and invite Elian to greet his new brethren. He steps towards the other Chosen and Heralds, who gather around and greet him with bows of the head and firm hands to the shoulders. Their new kin. Their new brother.
And there I stand, away from it all, the fire in my blood doused. I watch, numb, as the brief ceremony takes place, and Elian stands alone once more, the others giving him space, to soak up the adoration of the great crowd below.
And among it all, I turn again upon the Prime, and find their eyes on me.
They stare, unblinking, faces ageless, power endless, and I feel that odd swell of joy course through me once more. Smiles lift on their lips as one, smiles that tell me everything will be OK. That I have nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.
That my journey, on whatever path it may take me, is far from over.
45
My journey down the steps isn't the one of victory I'd hoped for. Even, I have to admit, expected in part.
With Elian's new position granted, and his key to the summit given, it is only Hestia, myself, and the Overseer who descend.
Below, the crowd fall into celebration, using the occasion as an excuse to sing and dance, eat and drink the offerings and tributes gathered from across the Fringe. The square that, only a week or so ago, staged the death and purification of several heretics now transforms into a place of joy. Colours abound, powered individuals of all kinds honouring and toasting the ascension of one of their own.
Would they have done the same for me?
To hell they would...
I spare a glance back up at the stairs as we move down, the mists and clouds beginning to gather once again to block the view of the summit. There, I see Elian amongst his new family, their private celebration set to go on through the day and night. Up there, on the top of the world, they will feast and share great tales of glory and victory, and Elian will be initiated into their number, sharing stories of victory himself.
And here I am, cast aside. Unsure now, so suddenly, of what path I'm walking. How can it be that I'm so affected by this? Why do I even care?
My eyes catch sight of a fluttering of colour, the Overseer's robes billowing in the wind as we make our way back towards the masses below. I wonder if it's him who has turned me so swiftly, or whether this is simply a manifestation of my own desire. Maybe he put in the early work, drawing me into this life, and my meeting with the Prime sealed the deal.
I turn back again, hoping, praying for a final look at them, shining bright in their white robes. I glimpse them through the brewing mists, radiant, magnificent. I find myself stopping on the steps, staring, unwilling to turn away. An urge strikes me to climb back up, drop to my knees before them as my grandmother once did, beg to remain by their side.
But...why? Why such the urge, the need?
Because that is their power, a voice whispers inside me. They demand to be followed and served. Anyone who looks upon them is cast under their spell...
"Amber..."
The voice slips into my head, and I turn to the Overseer standing beside me. On his other flank, Hestia looks up the steps as I do, her eyes like my own. Wide, unblinking, like a child so enchanted by a new toy. There's a softness to her expression that I've never seen, her facade ever cast hard, determined, hateful. No longer. She just stares longingly, her mind beguiled as mine is; to do whatever they might wish. To become a slave to their will and nothing more.
"I wanted to apologise, Amber..."
The voice comes again. I look up to the Overseer, eyes paternal and caring.
"Apologise?" I whisper absentmindedly.
He nods. "I feel I misled you," he says softly, glancing over his shoulder at Hestia, who continues to gawp up the steps, lost in her own little world. "I truly felt you would be Chosen."
"You...did?" I ask, finding it hard to concentrate. I glance again up the steps, the clouds forming more thickly and blocking the view above. And with it, the radiance of the Prime dims and fades away, setting a dull, sunken beat to my heart.
"I did," says the Overseer quietly. "I believed that you would follow in your grandmother's footsteps. It was you whom I personally recommended to the Prime."
His words break the spell, and I fix my full attention upon him. "You recommended me?" I ask, surprised.
"I believe you have more potential than Master Elian, gifted as he is," says the Overseer. "However, my opinion, and those of the other assessors, is only a guide for our Mother and Father. As I told you before, it is down to them to make the final decision. It seems they favoured Master Elian, and their choice must be respected."
"I..
." I turn up the steps again, seeing only cloud ahead, the steps disappearing in the soup. "Thank you," I say, turning back. "I guess they preferred someone committed to them. I'm more of a wildcard."
"Perhaps," he whispers. "We cannot know the intention of the Prime. They see more than we do, child. If this is the path you're on, you must trust it."
"I...I will," I say. "But, what will happen to me now?" Lilly and Jude flourish in my mind. My eyes gather into a worried frown, tentative as they look up at the man before me. "Will my failure..."
"Fear not for them," the Overseers says softly, soothingly. "You did everything asked of you, child. Aside from a few...hiccups," he adds with a smile. "Lilly will continue to serve Lady Felina, as I promised, and young Jude will remain with his auntie Grace outside of Pine Lake. There is nothing for you to fear, Amber. In fact, I will happily arrange for you to visit with your sister now that you have completed the trials. You will see for yourself that she is happy and content. And you can meet Lady Felina as well, if that suits you?"
"Um...yes, of course. I'd...love that."
"Well perfect," he says. "I shall make the arrangements personally."
"And me?" I ask, uncertain of what I want. "Will I be staying here for...for long?"
"Well, that will be up to you," says the Overseer with a kindly smile. "You are a Daughter of the Prime, Amber, and a high ranking Fire-Blood. You have your place here among us. This is where you belong."
"You still believe that?" I question. "I thought you were only saying that to make me commit to the trials?"
"Of course I believe it. What other choice do you have now? To return to Pine Lake." He huffs, shaking his head. "No, I feel you'd be rather, how shall I say, dissatisfied going back there. Unless, of course, you wish to be treated as a goddess by the local population?"
He begins walking down the stairs again, nudging Hestia and causing her to turn around. I follow his step, the three of us moving down towards the heaving crowds.
"Not particularly," I say eventually. "But..."
"Yes, there's Jude, and Alberta. But is that enough? Do you want to live as your grandmother has, away in solitude, hiding what she truly is? Would you want to subject Jude to such a life?"
My answer is non-verbal. He doesn't even need to read my mind to know that going back home doesn't have the same appeal as it once did.
"Here is where you belong," he goes on after a time, voice a whisper. "Lilly is here with you. Don't you want to be near her? Don't you want to be near...them?"
He turns, eyes glancing back up the stairs. Mine follow, and even through the cloud, I get a sense of that unnatural radiance beyond, feel the strange lure that hovers up there at the top, and centre, of the city. They are like a beacon, their strange power flowing down into the city from all sides, radiating out like ripples on a pond.
The thought of leaving it, of not feeling that warmth inside me...frightens me more than it should.
"What do you think, Hestia?" The Overseer turns to the fearsome Fire-Blood, face beginning to re-contort into its usual shape and losing that child-like cloak of wonder. "Do you think Amber should remain in the city?"
She looks over at me, seeming to consider things a moment. Then she begins to nod, her voice crawling out with a croak.
"I guess so," she grunts begrudgingly. "Someone with that level of power shouldn't be mingling with Fringe rats."
I smile ironically at that. "Not long ago, I was the Fringe rat," I say. "But thanks for the compliment."
She rolls her eyes, though not in the same sort of frosty way as before. "Don't get used to it," she says. "At least I don't have to spend time with you anymore. And...you're not the Chosen, so I don't hate you quite so much."
"You see, I knew you had some sweetness inside you," I grin, noting the slightly amused curve to the Overseer's mouth as he observes the exchange. "It must make you terribly uncomfortable not being a complete..."
"Now now, no cursing on the Sacred Stairs, Amber," cuts in the Overseer.
"I wasn't going to..."
"Yes you were," he says, looking right at me. "It doesn't take a telepath to know that."
I turn away, hiding my smile, and continue on down the steps. Scanning the heaving masses, it's not hard to spot the mountainous form of Krun there at the bottom, standing beside Marlow, bald head shining under the sunshine. I can only guess how disappointed Marlow must be right now. Krun, not so much.
"Now, expect some attention when you reach the bottom of the steps," the Overseer continues. Along with Marlow and Krun, it's fairly obvious that a large number of people are watching us from below, awaiting our arrival. "Not many Children get to meet the Prime face to face, so you may face questions."
Hestia doesn't look particularly enthused by the prospect. She seems more of a 'keeps herself to herself' sort of woman.
"I'm used to it," I say. "Not too sure I could describe that experience, though. It was...surreal."
Hestia nods slowly, expression softening once more.
"Well, just be aware. You don't need to say anything if you don't wish. The youngsters will be particularly interested, of course, but that interest will begin to die down soon enough. Either way, you have both ascended in station, and have joined a select group within this city. That is something to be most proud of."
His words don't deliver any such sensation. No, instead it is a dull ache that throbs through me once again, starting at my core and spreading out to my limbs. I have to fight the urge to turn and look back up the steps, knowing the way is now shut. I wonder how others feel when making this sacred journey, how long this period of strange suffering lasts. Do they ever try to climb the steps again, get past the hulking guards below and try to get another glimpse of the Prime. I can't imagine, with the gifted men and women above, that such a thing would end well.
Would it be worth it? Worth the risk for that final glimpse?
"Both of you will be given accommodations to fit your rank," the Overseer goes on, voice snatching back my attention once again, drawing my wandering mind back to its path. "We have lovely apartments nearby..."
"I don't want it," Hestia grunts. The Overseer looks over to her with a knowing smile. "I'm a soldier. I don't belong in some fancy apartment."
"I thought you'd say that," the Overseer says. "That is, of course, your right."
"Good," says Hestia. "Because I've lived in a dorm-chamber with her for a week, and don't want to live anywhere near her again."
"Ah, and here was me thinking we were starting to get along," I say, inserting a heavy dose of sarcasm into my words. "You don't want to be girlfriends with me? You know, talk about boys and do each other's hair?"
"I'd sooner kill myself," grunts Hestia.
I smile, her words a Prime-send. "You know, that can be arranged." I allow my ceremonial Fire-Blood robes to flare, my control complete. Hestia responds with a slight brightening of her own, though not enough to cause anything more than mild discomfort for the Overseer, standing between us.
"Children," he says, with the firm assurance of a father reprimanding his bickering daughters. "Calm yourselves and your words. We are upon the Sacred Stair. This is entirely inappropriate."
"Right," I say, cooling my body and robes. "No swearing, no fighting. Got it."
The Overseer nods, then looks to Hestia, whose own cloak fades to a darker shade of crimson.
"Excellent. Now, shall we greet your adoring public?" the Overseer says.
Hestia drops her head at the prospect. I do something similar, my eyes finding the only known friend in the crowd - Marlow.
"Um, a question," I say as we continue down.
"Of course."
"Will Marlow continue as my personal High Worthy?" The question rolls too easily off my tongue. I've become both accustomed to his presence and his service. Only days ago, that thought would have been worrying. Now, I take it in my stride.
"Well, that will be up to you. If you should wish it, it shall be so."
"I think you should. Marlow is a fine High Worthy, and will be useful in continuing your assimilation into our way of life. I'm sure he'll be delighted to continue in your service."
We find out a few minutes later, the crowd separating into distinct figures as we make our way towards the bottom of the steps. There, the gargantuan Titans that guard the way up step aside, hauling their mighty spears from our path and letting us through. Beyond them, another such figure looms tall - Krun, with the comparatively diminutive Marlow at his side.
I draw a breath, trying to focus as the people swarm about in celebration of the occasion, many eager to get a good look at the two latest Children to have met their Mother and Father for the first - and, depressingly, only - time. As before, I find it difficult to meet specific sets of eyes, half frightened of what I'll see. When I do lift my gaze, I find interest and curiosity in greater measure than the detest and resentment that once dominated the eyes of those around me. A few such people remain, yes, but they appear to be in the minority now, and not the majority. At least, that's the case within the immediate vicinity.
The people, of course, are respectful in their behaviour. They don't rush or crowd, but merely gather politely, many smiling at the two of us as we make our way forward. Anything too boisterous, I imagine, is considered unbecoming here in Olympus.
I hear, amid the swell of voices in conversation, my name being spoken. And with it, the first questions begin to come from the more enthusiastic, keen to learn, with it being so fresh, what our experience was like up there at the summit of the city.
They fade into the blur of noise, however, and I don't manage an answer. Instead, I focus on Marlow, ushered forward under the great figure of Krun, acting unlikely bodyguard to the High Worthy, so low in rank among those around him.
