Blood of the Chosen: Children of the Prime, Book 3

by T. C. Edge

  It is just one, though. A large bed, yes, but just the one.

  Surely we're not going to share it?

  "Um..."

  "Don't worry," Perses says lightly. "It'll be only you here tonight. I prefer to wander during the nighttime hours, and have little need to sleep at this time. I will see you at first light, Amber. Sleep well."

  He marches down the steps at that, heading out into the night. I slip right towards the window, watch him gravitate towards the men, who regard him with those same eyes he draws from everyone he passes. Such reverence. Such total loyalty and admiration. A man who embodies what it truly means to lead. A man I must try, at least, to emulate.

  He spends a few minutes among his men, passing on orders, providing inspiring words to keep their spirits high. Then, off he goes, slipping away into the darkness and beyond the light of the gathered troop. He holds his hands behind his back, walking slowly but with purpose, looking out into the night with a thoughtful expression on his face. And then, within a few moments, he's gone, melting into the gloom as though he was born to its comforting embrace.

  I stay at the window, my eyes turning over the troops, wondering if I should go out and join them for a little bit. It's not a particularly appealing prospect. I may share, in some part, the same title as their leader, but I'll never get anywhere near to commanding the same respect.

  I don't mind that. I wouldn't expect anything else. A man like Perses is one to emulate, to look up to, but never to match. To even command half the reverence he gets would be quite the accomplishment.

  As I look out, however, watching the troops in their natural setting, I see a single figure set off to one side. A faint glow surrounds her, not one created by the light of the burning fires, but by the flame burning within her blood. It sets her robes aglow, an alluring crimson hue just about visible within the blackness. Hestia, alone, as one would expect. It's very much her natural setting too.

  I watch her for a moment from the comfort and security of Black Thunder, debating whether to go and join her. It's odd, really, that I look at her with some measure of pity. Is she really this way by choice? Wouldn't she prefer to socialise with her fellow soldiers and not sit out there alone?

  Before I think better of it, I open the door and step out into the cool evening air, drawing the eyes of a number of the men gathered around the fires. They glance at me only, dipping their heads, before turning back as quickly as possible. It's the sort of forced reverence they're required to pay, a meagre recognition of my new standing. I can appreciate, actually, how hard it must be for them, powerful, seasoned soldiers as they are, to have to salute someone like me. Besides the fact that I'm not going to be eighteen for a couple of months, I'm also a Prime-damned girl. The very first female Herald of War, a position exclusively dominated by men to this point, just like the ranks of the military at large.

  Well, I'll be changing that, I think, feeling a swell of bravado as the men return to their conversations.

  And with that, I look at Hestia once again, and feel something resembling a kinship with her. Oh, she may be something of a bitch, but at least she's of the same gender as me. At least, I think she is...

  Drawing a smile at the thought, I press towards her glowing light and find her figure growing clear as I approach. Hunched over, she sits with legs crossed upon the barren earth, hands gently cradling something in her lap. She stares intently at it, eyes hardly blinking, humming softly to herself with an odd smile on her narrow, sharp-featured face. I slow my step and focus my eyes on this strange possession that has her in a trance.

  Then I see it. A figurine, similar to that which Lilly used to carve. The female side of the Prime.

  Our Mother.

  I stop, only a few metres away, Hestia's back slightly turned so she can't see me coming. For a moment I gaze at that figure myself, the likeness excellent, and a familiar jolt of joy ripples through me.

  "Where did you get that?" I whisper, looking on.

  My words seem to snap Hestia right out of it. She rights herself suddenly and turns to look upon me, eyes refocusing, robes flaring with a sudden flash of light. Seeing me, she relaxes, letting out a breath.

  "Oh, it's you," she mutters angrily. "Sneaking upon me are you?" Then she remembers herself. And me. Remembers who, and what, I now am. "I...sorry, Lady Herald," she grunts, voice tight. "I was given this as a gift."

  "A fine gift," I say, continuing my step forwards, not put off by her prickly demeanour. I take a perch near to her, settling down in the dirt. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

  She nods in her usual curt manner, reaching out to hand me the figure. Unlike Lilly's rudimentary hand-carved versions, this one is made of stone, smooth to the touch and a fine likeness of Mother. I smile as I inspect it, before passing it back. I find Hestia's dark eyes eager as they wait for me to hand back the treasured model, as though I might just choose to keep it if I so wished. Which is probably now my right.

  Receiving it, she pulls it tight to her chest again, bundling it up in some spare fabric of her robes, like a child being given back her favourite toy. I understand the passion. I understand the obsession. It's something that now binds the two of us among a select group within the city.

  "Who gave it to you?" I ask, still looking at the shape within her robes.

  She looks up from the figure, uncomfortable. Her weight shifts a little, eyes turning up to the rear carriage she travelled in earlier, not so far away.

  "My sister," she says.

  I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn't.

  "OK," I say. "I...didn't know you had a sister."

  "You never asked."

  "I suppose not. Not the sort of thing you talk about with your enemies." Her eyes dip at the word, as if our past differences might put her on my bad side. "Rivals," I say, correcting myself. "That's a better word. That's all we really were, right?"

  She nods but doesn't speak, an awkwardness pervading her expression and body language.

  "You can relax you know, Hestia," I tell her. "I think I preferred it when you were threatening me and glaring at me all day long. It's almost...upsetting to see you like this."

  I grin, trying to lighten things up, but she continues to stay quiet, her eyes working again towards the carriage nearby. I assume that, with her rank of Chosen candidate and Primary Fire-Blood, she's allowed to sleep inside it tonight.

  I let out a sigh. "OK, you don't want to talk to me. Fair enough. I'll leave you alone."

  I begin to stand, readying to move off, though doing so purposefully slowly. The movement has her reaching out an arm, her voice croaking out an apology. The expected, and desired, reaction.

  "I'm sorry, Lady Herald," she says. "I just...I don't know what to say to you."

  I turn, settling back down eagerly. "You have trouble calling me Herald, don't you? You resent the fact that I've been given this position?"

  "No, I..." she starts, trying to look aghast but failing.

  "Oh, you can be honest. I don't blame you, Hestia. You never liked me from the start, and I think it's pretty obvious that that feeling was reciprocated. That's fine. It's normal. We come from different walks of life and all that, so there's bound to be tension. But, I do admire you as well, you know, despite what you might think."

  She frowns. "You do?"

  "Sure. You're dedicated and you're committed to what you do, and passionate about your city. Yes, you have some, um, questionable views on the people of the Fringe, but you clearly make a fine soldier. I could probably learn a lot from you."

  Her steely glare falls beneath a tightly furrowed brow. She regards me for a moment, before shaking her head. "Thanks," she says. "I guess I could learn a lot from you too."

  "Oh, really? Do tell."

  She shrugs. "Well, it can't have been easy for you coming here, I suppose. You were brave to go after your sister like that, whatever your reasons. And you held your own during the trials, even when I made life difficult for you. I'm sorry about that.
I'm not a nice person, I know that. I just didn't like the idea that someone could just wander into Olympus from the Fringe and be as powerful as you are. It made me feel...inadequate."

  "Inadequate? Hestia, you're a beast. And I mean that in a good way."

  Her lips crack, the finest hint of a smile appearing, an expression that looks so alien on her face. Not bad, really, just rare, like a lone flower growing from the barren wasteland. When she loosens up, she actually looks almost pretty, in her own way.

  "Thanks," she grunts, as if angry at the kind remark. "But I can't do the things you can. Not even Elian has your raw power. It's no surprise you've been made a Herald."

  "Whoa, the compliments are coming thick and fast today," I say. "We're not becoming friends are we, Hestia?"

  "Not my choice," she tells me, shrugging. "You outrank me now. I have to follow your orders."

  "Hmmmm, there's something quite hollow about that," I joke. "I'd prefer it if you just wanted to be friends with me."

  "Is that an order?" she asks, her lips narrow but eyes showing some good humour. "An order for me to want to be friends with you?"

  "OK, now we're going deep," I laugh. "You know, you're funnier than you think."

  "Really? I've never been accused of that."

  "Well you have something. It's raw, but there's potential for a bit of dry humour in there. I think we'll get along OK."

  "If you say so."

  "I do," I tell her, asserting my position. "And while we're at it, here's another order..."

  She raises her eyes skeptically. "What?"

  "To reconsider your opinion of the people of the Fringe. I know there's a divide in Olympus about how people see them, but I'd prefer if you were a little more open-minded about it all."

  "Them?" she says. "Interesting. Not long ago you'd have said 'us'."

  I think about that a second. She's right. I do appear to have distanced myself from my past now. I've embraced my new identity.

  "I'm split," I say after a pause. "I'm half Fringe, half Olympus. I'm one of a kind, Hestia. Don't you forget that."

  "Couldn't if I tried," she mutters. "I guess you're growing on me, like a wart or something. You're harder to dislike than I thought. Now that I'm now allowed to, well...it's actually quite liberating."

  I smile brightly. "Good. Now lighten up in general, and we'll call that a good start."

  Her eyes draw tight, face coiling at the thought. She seems the sort who's ever dwelled in the darkness. The concept of 'lightening up' isn't overly appealing.

  "I'll...try," she says. "If I have to."

  "You do. At least around me. I need a friend around here, and though I might be mad for saying it, you seem to be the best choice."

  "How sweet. Friend by default."

  "Nicely put," I smile. "Now come on, show me that figurine again. I want to hear all about how you felt meeting the Prime."

  She lets out an exhausted sigh at the thought, before revealing the figure again and passing it to me.

  Oh, she's not the type to 'share', I can see that. But if I'm going to go through some changes, I'm going to make sure someone else does too. If I can make Hestia loosen up, then I can probably do just about anything, right?

  We'll see about that...

  11

  The first light of dawn brings with it the continuing of our journey, Perses returning to the carriage to wake me from an unbroken night of sleep. He gives me a moment to compose myself, before folding up the bed again and returning Black Thunder to its original state.

  "Sleep well, Amber?" he asks me, settling his muscled frame down into a seat.

  I nod through a yawn, blinking out at the flatlands bathed in a beautiful red glow.

  "Good," he says. "You'll need plenty of rest if you're to operate at your optimal capacity."

  "Fine by me," I say, stretching like a cat. "How about you? You didn't walk all night, did you?"

  "That surprises you, does it?" he asks.

  "Well, of course. It's weird."

  "I need time alone, Amber," he says sagely. "I am most relaxed when I wander. To me, that is sleep."

  I raise my eyes. "Like I said. Weird."

  His eyes flatten on me.

  "Erm, sorry. I have no filter in the morning."

  "Evidently," he says. "Nice to see that you're getting along so well with Hestia, though."

  I frown. "You saw us?"

  "I like to keep an eye on things," he tells me, voice rumbling. "The darkness doesn't hinder my vision. I noticed the two of you in conversation from afar."

  "Yeah, well I guess I have at least something in common with her, seeing as we're both Fire-Bloods. Other than Krun, I don't know anyone else around here."

  "Give it time, young Herald. There's no need to force such things."

  The carriage begins moving as he speaks, rolling smoothly over the plains. It feels strangely comforting to be on the move again, heading deeper into the Fringe and what lies beyond.

  "Will we reach our destination today?" I ask, watching the world pass by at a gathering speed.

  Perses's eyes darken. "We shall see," he says. "Our information suggests that the assailants remain in camp where they are, but may be preparing to move. I have dispatched two of our finest Phasers to press on ahead and ascertain the situation. We will know this afternoon."

  I sit back, nodding, setting my mind to the task that lies ahead. Technically, I'm just here to observe, to get a feel for the life these soldiers lead, but that doesn't stop the nerves from building. It isn't so much a fear or anxiety that begins to grip at me as we go, but an anticipation of what's to come.

  Only weeks ago, when Jude and I escaped through Black Ridge, I was forced to throw my first ever punch. Now, I've faced combat against Titans and Phasers. I've brought to life the blaze inside me, learning new skills, how to command the raging flame. I've walked among gods and have seen death firsthand. I've been through more than I could ever have imagined, and have taken it all in my stride.

  And now, here I am, on a mission to save the innocent and kill the guilty. To bring justice to those who cannot defend themselves, light to the dark places of the world. And that, more than anything before in my life, sets a vibrant thrill inside me, beating like a drum. A battle march in my heart that grows stronger as we go.

  Observe? Like hell...

  No, I'm here to join in.

  The convoy halts only briefly as Perses climbs out. Ahead, I see the shape of two figures pouring over the open plains, little thickets of woodland dotted here and there. Over the past few hours, a few villages and settlements have appeared on the horizon, though none close enough to see in great detail. We have slipped on through the Fringe without detection, just as Perses said was commonly the case.

  The figures, distant only a few moments ago, quickly rush ahead to join us. The speed at which they cover is ground is startling, drawing up clouds of dust that follow their path. Hurrying right up to Perses, they pull to a sudden stop, the pursuing cloud of dust briefly engulfing them before fading away once more.

  Both stand, doubled over, hands to knees as they try to gather their breath. I watch from the door of the carriage, other soldiers doing the same from the convoy behind us. Glancing back, I notice Krun watching on eagerly from the transport directly behind Black Thunder. Further back, the fiery glow of Hestia's outfit lights up at the rear.

  "Gather your breath, men," I hear Perses say calmly. He gives the two Phasers a few more moments to replenish their oxygen supply before going on. "Now, what have you discovered?"

  "The bandits, sir," pants one of the Phasers, standing back up straight. "They're...they're preparing...another assault."

  Perses stiffens, wide back straightening. "Where?" he asks.

  I tense as I listen from the side.

  "We're not certain..." says the other soldier, heaving in another breath. "But that's...not the problem..."

  "What is the problem?" Perses grunts. "Speak."

  "Reinforc
ements, Herald Perses," the first man says, his breath regathered. "Their camp has multiplied significantly."

  "Numbers?"

  "Two hundred at least," the Phaser says. "Our men on watch there have seen more coming in by the hour. We believe they're other bands who have been ransacking settlements further south. Now they're massing, sir. "

  Perses lifts a hand to his mighty chin, stroking gently. "Any further word on their capabilities?" he asks.

  "Hard to say, Herald Perses. Our men have been watching night and day. They have a large number of men with Phaser powers, we know that much at least."

  "And half a dozen Titans, sir," adds the second solider. "We're not sure of what else, but believe they may well have some Elementals in their ranks."

  I feel my chest clench tighten at that.

  "Dark gods," I hear Perses rumble, looking up and out towards the plains pensively. "This is no normal bandit party."

  "No, sir," the first Phaser says. "They're well organised, and bear the marks of combat. Most carry firearms. Many are wearing patchwork armour."

  "Hmmmm," Perses muses, hand still on his chin. I watch those deepset eyes fade behind his furrowed brow. "Sounds like the Cure to me."

  "The Cure?" says the second Phaser, frowning too. I notice Krun marching from behind now, stepping forward to join the conversation. Others filter from their carriages, listening in though staying back. "I thought they were destroyed?"

  "That is the latest intelligence from the south," Perses says, calm, in control. "But they had a vast army. It's possible a portion survived and journeyed north in search of new hunting grounds. We all know how they operate."

  The two Phasers nod. Krun, dwarfing them, steps in to add his voice. "Then they shouldn't be a problem," the Titan says, filling his huge chest defiantly. "The Cure were never a threat at full strength. Two hundred isn't a concern, Herald Perses."

  "Nothing is a concern to you, Krun," Perses says with a wry smile. "But we must exercise caution regardless. We number fifty only. Their ranks may have grown by the time we arrive. Prudence is, as we know, a necessary tenet in our survival."