by T. C. Edge
His eyes show his heartfelt disappointment as he presses forward. He bows respectfully, and his voice finds its way to my ears through the crowd.
"I am so terribly sorry, Lady Amber," he says. "I only wish I could have helped prepare you better. Then perhaps you might have..."
"You did everything you could and more," I assure him. "But...how would you like to continue guiding me?"
"I..." He all but snaps his back, such is the force of his bow. "Nothing would make me more happy or more proud," he says.
I grin up at the Overseer.
"Well, that's settled then," he says. "High Worthy Marlow, please escort Lady Amber to her new quarters. I shall arrange for her to visit with her sister and Lady Felina tomorrow afternoon. I trust that you'll be on hand to make the necessary logistical preparations?"
"Of course, Master Overseer," says Marlow with a military sharpness to his words. "I shall get to it immediately."
"See that you do. Now," his eyes take in the scene around him, "I imagine that Amber has had enough excitement for one day. Captain Krun, clear a path, and make sure she isn't hassled by anyone."
"Yes, Master Overseer," booms the mighty Titan, bowing. Then he turns, narrowing his eyes as he plots a course across the square.
"What about Hestia?" I find myself asking. Not out of concern, of course, just curiosity. My eyes work up and, to no real surprise, discover that she's already gone. I can just about make out the direction of her movement by the path she's opened up as she stamps away, bodies turning to watch her go. "Ah..."
"Yes, Hestia is a special kind of anti-social," muses the Overseer. "I feel sorry for anyone who pushes her for answers."
So do I.
"Well, I think she's got the right idea," I say, glancing around at the colours, the bodies, the blend of faces, young and old. It's all quite overwhelming, and the last thing I need right now.
No, I desire space, and time alone. Time to think, and dwell. Time to dream, perhaps, and revisit that great summit, see once more those...divine beings.
Only in sleep, now, will I see them.
A numbness engulfs me again, and the noise around me forms into an indistinct blur.
"Take her home," I just about hear the Overseer say, his voice clear enough to splice through the din. I look up at him, thankful.
And with a final smile on his face, I set off under the great wing of Krun, Marlow by my side, towards my new home.
46
My accommodation is magnificent.
I hardly notice.
Set near the square at the bottom of the Sacred Stairs, the grand stone building rises higher than the rest around it. The view from my window - well, every window, because I have dozens of them - is spectacular. The city stretches out in several directions, the balcony within the main bedroom giving a particularly panoramic view.
It takes the best part of fifteen minutes for Marlow to give me the full tour, doing so with his usual energy and enthusiasm. Krun follows, choosing, unsurprisingly, to stick to the doorway with most rooms I'm shown. It's a habit I once found amusing. Now, it comes off as almost endearing.
And yes, those doorframes and entrances are large enough for the Titan to stand comfortably. Above all else, that explains just how grand the place is.
But still, I take little in. My eyes wash over the place, impressed but hardly excited. Much as Marlow tries to infuse me with some joy at being given such a place to live, I just can't muster it. Inside, I feel oddly hollow, as if something's been taken away from me, some piece of my puzzle being denied.
"You must be tired, Lady Amber," Marlow says, finally beginning to realise that he won't excite me, no matter how hard he tries. "Would you like for me to leave?"
I find my head shaking slowly as we stand there on the balcony of the main bedroom. Around me, the city stretches away, to the left and right, sloping gradually from the hill in its centre. The Hill of Olympus. The home of the Prime.
I stare up into the clouds, broken.
"Lady Amber?" Marlow prompts.
I rip my eyes away. "Stay," I murmur, turning to him. "I...I saw a smaller bedroom on the other side of the apartment. Could that be your room?"
The question seems to come as some surprise. "There are several bedchambers here, my Lady. None are intended for a High Worthy."
"I don't care about that," I say. "This place is far too big for me alone. I'd prefer to have you around, not in some other quarters miles away."
"Well I..."
"You'll do it," I order. My eyes switch to Krun, off at the entrance to the bedchamber. "That's all right, isn't it Captain?"
His great chin dips. "It's...unusual," he tells me, "but not unheard of. It's your right to have your attendants on site if you desire it, rather than in their communal accommodation nearby."
"Attendants?" I say. "I'm supposed to get more?"
"Again, if you wish it," Krun rumbles. "Ladies especially like to have female Worthies attending their specific, um, beauty needs. Your sister is one, far as I know. It's a common duty among young female Worthies."
"Yes, it certainly is," adds Marlow. "I can arrange a selection for you to choose from, if you wish. Your new station will give you pick of the bunch, Lady Amber. You can have several if you desire it..."
"Or none," I say, feeling slightly awkward at the conversation. "I'll think about it."
"I'm sure your sister could even join you here," Marlow goes on. "Didn't the Overseer suggest such a thing might be possible?"
I nod, and turn back to the city. "I'm not sure I want that," I whisper. "At least...not yet."
A short silence follows. I hear Krun's heavy frame slipping off from the doorway and beginning his journey back towards the main exit to the apartment. Marlow remains, awaiting his final instructions.
Eventually, I turn back to look at him.
"I'd like some space," I say. "Like you said. I'm...tired."
He reacts immediately, bowing and slipping quickly towards the door. He stops there, turning to face me. "If you need anything, my Lady, just let me know. I'll make the arrangement for you to visit your sister immediately."
I confirm by way of a nod, and he leaves me to myself, shutting the heavy wooden door quickly behind him.
Alone. Finally alone, I turn back and gaze out upon the city once again. It remains in celebration, a general din in the air, the streets and squares filled with colour and movement. I wonder how often such an occasion takes place, when a new Chosen ascends. It must be a rare thing indeed, seeing as their number is so small. And in Elian, I feel, the city has a new young man to be proud of, to lift up onto the highest of pedestals. He was the one they wanted. And he was the one they got.
I slouch there on the balcony for a while, just staring out from my high vantage. My eyes ever cling to the clouds that surround the hill, the steps concealed less than halfway up, only an occasional shadow of the summit coming into view. My heart races, leaping to attention every time a reveal is threatened, before dulling again to a mournful beat when the clouds swarm, hiding the joys within.
I lose track of time as I stand there, elbows on the stone balcony, staring gormlessly up in the hope of catching some brief glimpse of the hilltop. Only when the door knocks do I come to, Marlow stepping in once again to inform me that all arrangements have been made, and I'll be able to visit Lilly tomorrow.
I nod absently, and turn back. Further hours pass before the light starts to fade in the bright blue sky, the sun drifting off, the daylight dimming. My elbows and lower back ache when I finally uproot myself, stiffening in that pose that I realise I've held for hours. I move for the large, four-poster bed, and settle down upon the soft bedding. I make sure to keep the curtains open, letting the moonlight shine in, keeping my view of the hilltop visible.
It remains only as a silhouette under the moonlight, indistinct, still cloaked in cloud. But it's there, and that's enough. I lie, staring at it, and drift off to sleep praying for my dreams to return me there
. For my mind to retrace my steps, bring me back to the summit, to the temple, to the presence of the Prime.
I wake regularly, drawn from my dreams and back to reality. Each time, I feel that dull throb of disappointment settle inside me as I see the silhouette of the mountain outside the window. I shut my eyes again, try to return. My mind fills with that wondrous euphoria I felt in the Prime's presence, before being doused as they spoke Elian's name.
It is a recurring dream, a recurring nightmare. Reliving the moment that Elian defeated me.
Reliving the moment I failed.
And when dawn finally comes, I rise, exhausted. Today, I shall see my sister once again. See, hopefully, that she is happy. That her own dreams have been met, her own ambitions achieved.
I should feel such joy at the prospect of seeing her. I should feel some nerves at the same. Yet as I leave that morning to make my way across the city, I feel only a gnawing numbness.
It's as though I have tasted the sweetest fruit, and drunk the purest water. And now nothing, from this point on, will ever be as sweet or pure again.
47
"OK Lady Amber, this is the place right ahead," says Marlow, our carriage rattling quietly down a gentle cobblestone road.
We begin to slow, pulling into a courtyard surrounded by balconies on all sides. Little gardens mark the pathways into the buildings around us, vines and flowers climbing up the stone facades, setting a sweetness to the air.
We're not too far from my own apartment, this neighbourhood clearly one of the plusher ones within the city and intended for those of higher birth and rank. It's a little to the east, set to another side of the Hill of Olympus. I imagine that from the higher apartments facing that way, the square and Sacred Steps will be visible.
The carriage stops, and we climb out into the cool courtyard. I see several Worthies tending the gardens, cleaning the fountains and statues dotted about. They look up at me as I appear, stopping briefly to bow and perform the expected pleasantries, before continuing on with their work. To one side, a door opens, and another Worthy appears. This one, by the looks of his shaven head and the appearance of his robes, looks to be a High Worthy. Perhaps the man tasked with managing things here.
He steps forward, smile upon his aged visage, taller and thinner than Marlow, but with that same friendly expression.
"High Worthy Marlow," the man says, stepping in. "Right on time." He grins as he approaches down a short set of steps, working along a pathway flanked by flowerbeds and verdant plants.
Marlow steps forward to join him, though is sure to usher me along as well. He greets his kin with a hand pressed to his heart, and a brief bow. It's a particular greeting that High Worthies appear to share with one another. "Lady Amber, this is High Worthy Kitchener," he says, turning to introduce me. "He tends to this particular square and sees to its upkeep."
"And does a fine job of it, by the looks of things," I say, glancing around. The place is spotless, though that's not uncommon here. "Looks like you run a tight ship, High Worthy Kitchener."
"I do try, my Lady," the old man says, bowing low to me. "What a pleasure it is to welcome you here today. Lady Felina is awaiting you upstairs. If you would follow me, I shall take you right to her."
We begin moving towards the building he came out of, passing the door and stepping into the finely appointed hallway inside. It's similar to others I've seen, formed of thick stone and grand in structure, a central staircase swirling up to the top, at least a dozen floors up.
"Lady Felina lives in the penthouse apartment," High Worthy Kitchener says. "It's quite a climb up those steps, but affords a fabulous view. I propose we take the elevator to ease our knees."
"The elevator?" I ask.
"Yes, Lady Amber," says Kitchener. He looks to Marlow. "Does her Ladyship's new apartment building not come with an elevator?"
"It does," Marlow says. "We opted to climb the steps yesterday when I introduced her to the building. Don't you remember, my Lady?" he says, turning to me.
I shrug, the term ringing a bell. I'm sure I've heard it in the past as well during one of my grandmother's many ramblings, though never paid it much mind. "Oh yeah," I say, remembering. "It's that automatic lifting device, right? It takes you between floors of the building?"
"Precisely," says Kitchener. "It's certainly a Prime-send for an old man like me. Hauling this old frame up and down these steps all day isn't something my joints tend to thank me for. This way now."
He moves us to one side, pressing his thumb to a little circular button fixed to a panel on the wall. It lights up blue, and I hear a light whirring in the wall beyond. A few moments later, the stone facade opens up silently, and I see a spacious metallic box appear, square in shape and without windows.
I feel a slight sense of trepidation as we step inside, the elevator looking quite out of place within these more traditional surroundings. It is as I've seen before, a blending of the ancient and the modern, a convenience that, while unsightly, is important in easing life around here, especially in any building with more than a few floors.
Inside, I see another panel, this one listed with the various floor numbers. Kitchener presses the button for the penthouse, the doors slide shut, and the elevator begins to rise. It's an odd sensation, the square room rising as if by magic up through the building, and opening once again into another large hallway.
We step out, and the doors shut behind us, merging nicely into the wall. It seems that the elevator gives access right into the penthouse apartment without the need for locks and much form of security.
I pose the question to Kitchener.
"Oh, such a thing isn't required here," he informs me. "Crime is all but non-existent. The entire city mostly operates on an open-door policy."
"An open-door policy?" I say. "You mean, people just wander into one another's houses?"
"Oh no," chuckles Kitchener. "That wouldn't be appropriate. No, the Children of the Prime keep to their own personal ranks and habitations, as we do as Worthies. For a more lowly divinity to wander into this courtyard might be considered rather improper, unless accompanied with the correct invite."
"He's merely referring to the general theme of openness within the city, Lady Amber," Marlow adds. "The people know not to wander in and out other people's houses uninvited, as they know that their personal station dictates just where they can and cannot go. That is all High Worthy Kitchener meant."
"Quite," says the older man, nodding. "Now, Lady Felina is right this way. She is, as I know, excited to meet you."
I wonder just what form of 'excited' he means as he continues to lead us down the central hall and towards the rear of the luxurious apartment. There are plenty within this city who, I'm sure, still view me with that ingrained contempt. A young woman of high birth might well be among their number, excited only to look down upon me, even if I now outrank her. Which, honestly, I'm not sure I do.
But then, the Overseer did mention how she is a kind-hearted woman, a woman who has a profound appreciation for the Worthies and the work they do. Maybe my story - coming from the Fringe and competing for the position of Chosen Fire-Blood - is one that greatly appeals to her. When I step out of my bubble and view it from outside, it's not hard to imagine how my journey might have its appeals.
I feel an odd twinge of nerves as we turn right, moving towards another wing, heading for a beautifully carved wooden door. Will Lilly be in there too, in her role as Lady Felina's new personal attendant? Will I be locking eyes with my sister again in only a few moments time?
I slow on instinct, dropping behind the two men. High Worthy Kitchener reaches out to knock. A soft voice comes from inside, and he turns the handle, the door opening. A breeze flows from inside, light coming with it. My eyes take in the shape of a large living room with sofas and fine tables, several grand windows allowing the winds to cool the interior. I catch a glimpse beyond; the Hill of Olympus dominates the skyline, perpetually wreathed in clouds.
I lose
myself for a second as I see it once more, before coming back to as we move into the room. There, seated in a plush armchair, I find a lovely looking young woman with soft brown hair, a pale complexion, and eyes that are a starkly striking shade of blue. She regards me from her perch, a smile building upon her face. A moment later, she stands and briskly makes her way towards us, keen eyes on me as she moves, gorgeous blue dress flowing behind her.
"Lady Felina, I'd like to introduce Lady Amber," High Worthy Kitchener says. "Primary Fire-Blood, and Chosen candidate."
Lady Felina sweeps in, lips splitting into a wonderful, charming smile. She reaches me, getting rather closer than I'd have expected, and continues to regard me with those strangely striking eyes.
"Oh my, you truly are the spitting image of one another," she says. "What a pleasure, an absolute pleasure, it is to meet you, Amber."
"I...thank you, Lady Felina," I say. "It's a...pleasure for me too." I frown at my own social awkwardness. "Sorry, I'm not used to all this."
"No no, that's quite all right. You're far more fascinating than any of the other prim and proper ladies around here. Come come, sit down with me. I want to hear all about you."
She takes my hand, her fingers soft as a newborn baby's, smiling to the two High Worthies standing in the doorway, and inviting them to wait outside. They do so immediately, leaving the two of us alone. I'm promptly sat down as Felina begins offering me all manner of food, set on a table in front of our sofa. I shake my head politely, my stomach too knotted to think about filling itself.
"A drink, then," Felina says, snatching up a metal flask. I imagine she'll pour coffee or water, but instead see something that resembles wine decanting into a glass, about the same colour as my Fire-Blood robes. I'm handed it, the scent wafting up my nose. Yes, definitely wine. Unexpected, seeing as it isn't yet midday.
"It's a special occasion," Felina says, noting the look on my face. "I'm not prone to daytime consumption of such things, don't worry. However, I often feel that a nice glass...or two, if the occasion calls for it," she adds, raising her eyes playfully, "helps to grease the wheels of the bonding process. Wouldn't you agree?"
