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

by T. C. Edge

  "I'm delighted to see you settling so well, Amber," says the Overseer, drawing my attention again. "I was told by the Prime that you would quickly take to your new position. They are so rarely wrong, that I had no reason to doubt them. But still, you never know. You haven't had the easiest time of it, but the tide is certainly turning. It could prove very important, in the battles to come."

  I look up to him with a frown, at the conviction in his words. "So, war is coming then?" I ask.

  "War is always coming," he muses. "It's just a matter of time and distance, which are relative concepts of course. War is a constant in human history, and so it continues now in this new age. It has ever been looming on the horizon," he says, forcing my eyes to look out towards the distant plains. "Growing ever closer, ever nearer our borders. You know of the recent developments, Amber. Perses has informed you of what has been happening. Well, it seems inevitable now. Finally, we may be truly tested."

  "You sound almost excited," I say, looking up at his narrow eyes, a slight hint of menace flashing within them. "As if you've wanted this for a while."

  "Hmmmm," he purrs. "You are an insightful one, Herald Amber. So like your grandmother. And yes, in a way, you're right. I don't wish death upon my people, of course, nor any innocent who might get caught within the conflict. But, doesn't it give you a thrill," he whispers, leaning down a little. "Life can be so boring when you get to my age. I can't deny, perverse as it may be, to wishing to see our city tested."

  "And will you be a part of it, Master Overseer?" I ask. "Or will you just leave it to others to die?"

  I deliver the words with some unexpected scorn. The Overseer, however, manages to hold that calm poise of his, smile still fixed to this face.

  "I'm too old for such things, dear child," he says. "And I wouldn't be much use anyway, at least not on the battlefield itself. I'm sure, however, that I can prove useful in other respects."

  "Interrogation," I whisper. "Getting information."

  "It is my forte," he says proudly. "And good intelligence can change the course of any battle or war. It can take or save many lives, depending upon its accuracy. It is in that that I will find my military calling."

  I turn my eyes down a little, unable to argue with that sentiment. Though capable of causing great destruction, I am nothing more than a grunt, a weapon. It's those behind the lines, those directing the course of battle, who truly have the power.

  "And last night?" I say. "Did you gather good intel from the prisoners?"

  His lips work into a smile. "I did," he says. "And that is the real reason for my being here." He turns to the house again, and the plateau beyond. "Come," he says, "Herald Perses and the others will be waiting."

  With that, he moves off, setting his mug onto the kitchen table as he strolls through the house.

  I follow right behind, a throb of excitement drumming in my chest.

  19

  I'm led, by the Overseer, across the grand plateau, bypassing its gardens and little courtyards, pressing right on towards the very site of our impromptu meeting the previous day. Ahead, I sense a gathering of figures, though proliferated. Two dozen, at least, assemble, sitting on white marble chairs in the centre of the beautiful courtyard. Spaced out evenly, they form into the shape of a semicircle, chairs angled to the middle, where Perses stands within the open space.

  Behind him, sitting upon magnificent thrones, I see Mother and Father watching on, slightly set back from proceedings. They appear to be onlookers only, not here to participate, Herald Perses the speaker of their will.

  Two seats sit open, one at the far right edge of the crescent, the other towards the middle. "The central seat is for you, Herald Amber," the Overseer whispers. "Take it. Sit with your fellow brothers of the sword."

  He moves off, taking position on the edge of the circle, as I venture to my own seat beside Kovas, Avon, and Gailen. I don't imagine that, should the floor be open to comments and questions, Gailen will himself contribute.

  It is next to him, however, that I take my perch, the pleasant looking man offering me a smile as I do. He looks a little older than Avon, but younger than Kovas and Perses, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. His eyes are kind, warm and brown, his ever-closed mouth not stern or gritted tight, but gently smiling as he watches on. He gives off the immediate impression of being someone pleasant to hang around with, despite the lack of conversation. Or, perhaps, because of it.

  I notice the eyes of the group fall on me as I take position as quietly as possible, cursing the Overseer under my breath for making us late. Of course, being a man of good manners, he sets about apologising for the both of us, blaming the deliciousness of the coffee for our tardiness. A few sets of eyes roll, but he gets away with it. I sense that the Overseer, being a man to have proceeded all others barring the Prime themselves, doesn't feel too compelled to stifle his tongue or deny his good humour, no matter the occasion.

  Finally, it's to Elian whom I look, his robes shining gently red like mine. He offers me a smile and nod of confidence, then raises his eyes briefly wide and fakes a nervous look as he gazed about the group. I let out a tiny little chuckle at that, my own anxiety softened.

  "Thank you all for coming," Perses's voice rumbles, interrupting the silence and tension of the wait. "We have, as you know, important business to discuss. Rarely do we find ourselves, Chosen and Heralds alike, coming together in such numbers to discuss matters of the city. Yet today isn't any normal day. We face a threat that involves us all."

  Murmurs rumble about, the full contingent of the Chosen and Heralds, both of War and those of Awakening currently present in the city, in attendance. I turn my eyes around them, the spotlight no longer on me, and muse so briefly on when I first looked upon them. Then, I'd felt so intimidated, so in awe of their might. Now, I feel as if I belong among them, no longer an outsider.

  "I do not need to speak of the recent mission we undertook across the eastern boundary of the Fringe. All of you here know what happened, and all know just how volatile these lands are becoming. We have, I'm afraid to say, remained static for too long. And in our solitude, our enemies have begun to awake."

  He turns now to the Overseer, sitting with legs crossed to his side, looking extremely eye-catching and flamboyant even among the colourfully dressed Chosen.

  "The Overseer," Perses says, "has spent the night excavating all shreds of intelligence from the prisoners we took from the battle. We have two distinct reports, in particular, that might just prove pivotal to our plans." He opens out his hand to the Overseer, and steps to one side. "Master Overseer, if you please."

  The Overseer bows his head respectfully and stands to his full height. With a gentle, confident lope, he moves towards the centre of the circle, taking Perses's position.

  "Good morning to you all," he says grandly, not showing the tiniest suggestion of nerves when addressing so fine an audience. "First, I would speak of the captive Marius, whose own fate is yet to be determined. As a recently awakened Son, he deserves better treatment, and more reasoned judgement, than the barbarians with whom he travelled..."

  A few heads nod at that. A few heads shake. It seems the party is split on what Marius's fate will be.

  "Now," the Overseer goes on, "Marius was present during the incident with Nestor several months ago, as you have already heard. He survived his awakening, and was eventually released when the two soldiers from Haven stormed the fort and overcame Nestor and his men."

  Grumbles sound at that, eyes dancing with fire and bitterness. Oh, Nestor may have had his questionable methods, but he was still a Herald from Olympus. To be killed by foreigners is a crime that cannot be forgiven.

  "I have seen, in Marius's very troubled and dark mind, precisely what happened. I now know the very reasons why those two Havenite soldiers where so far north in the first place." He smiles, performing his customary pause for effect as the gathered listeners lean in. "It seems their fateful encounter with Nestor was, in the end, nothin
g more than a coincidence. Their reason for venturing north was merely to deliver a friend back to her homeland. This friend was herself a friend of Marius, the two hailing from the same village, and Marius, through some basic trickery, was used by Herald Nestor to lure them into a trap." He takes a breath, and another pause, before continuing. "You see," he goes on, "Nestor wished to capture these two soldiers, to bring them back here. Both, as we know, were extremely gifted. One, in particular, was of great interest to Nestor."

  He turns his eyes around the assembly, the world falling into a deathly silence. I see eyes tighten, chests slow, Chosen and Heralds alike lean forward in anticipation.

  "It will probably surprise you all to learn that both were young women," the Overseer says, to a few raised eyes and surprised murmurs. He reaches out a hand, directing it towards me. "The girl so coveted by Nestor was hardly any older than our new young Herald here. She was, is, a telepath of great power and potential, with the additional gifts of the Farsights and Phasers running strong within her blood. It seems that Nestor wished to convert her, to persuade her, using his own supreme gifts, to join our ranks."

  He turns his eyes upon the other Heralds of Awakening in attendance. As with the Heralds of War, all are bald, even the women, and all have the markings of the Prime, of Olympus, cut into their foreheads.

  "That this young woman overcame Nestor along with her ally speaks of her power. The precise details of exactly how that happened, of course, we don't yet know. All I can tell you is what Marius himself perceived, but it is plenty to suggest that both young women were formidable, and likely some of the strongest agents that Haven possesses..."

  "And what of the second soldier?" comes a restless, gruff voice. It comes from a couple of seats over from me, from Herald Kovas, not known for his patience. "Was she multi-gifted too?"

  "Ah yes, Herald Kovas," the Overseer says, thoroughly enjoying his time in the spotlight. "She is a little older than the first, though blessed with a unique combination of gifts that we here have never seen. Speed, hearing, eyesight, and smell. She is one of Haven's chief assassins and spies, a young woman who has seen her fair share of adventure. It is, in fact, she who has become the catalyst for Haven's fledgling alliance with the warrior city of Neorome. If she were among us here, she might have just become the first female Herald of War ahead of you, Herald Amber."

  I find my eyes falling as the congregation turn their eyes on me. The Overseer may enjoy the limelight, but I'm not so fond of it.

  "Nonsense," barks Herald Kovas again, mercifully drawing the group's attention once more. "Whatever this Marius saw, it's exaggerated. He's nothing but a primitive hunter. What does he know of true power?"

  "His testimony is only a piece of the puzzle, Herald Kovas," says the Overseer smoothly. "When put alongside the known defeat of Nestor and his troop, we have all the evidence we need of the vast power these young women possess..."

  "What were their names?" comes a question, Lady Dianna cutting in confidently. She peers forward, intrigued by the notion, perhaps, that an elite group of Olympian soldiers could be defeated by two young women.

  Truth be told, I am too. When I first heard of two soldiers having taken down a Herald and his men, I naturally imagined a couple of brutish figures like Perses doing the deed. For it to be two girls of a similar age, or slightly older, than me, is greatly surprising. And somehow...inspiring.

  "Their names?" says the Overseer, eyes twinkling. "Yes, an important detail I'm sure, looking around the group." He sways his eyes across, and then glances back at the Prime. Both nod in unison, faces placid, smiling gently. "Yes, I see many faces here who desire revenge. You wish to know who you'll be hunting, if and when the time comes."

  Eyes steel and jaws tense, teeth barred by the more aggressive, affronted members of the group. Maybe Nestor was a popular member up here, I think. Maybe not all are like Perses, questioning of his methods.

  "Thankfully," the Overseer goes on, drawing out the moment like a seasoned pro, "Marius spent time with both young women, aiding in the trap that Nestor set to snare them. During that time he got to know them well enough. Their names, as you can imagine, are nothing special, even if they are. The young telepath is called Brie. The assassin's name is Kira. The former aided greatly in defeating the Cure in Haven. The latter fought in the gladiatorial games of Neorome...and won. So, Herald Kovas, I think it's safe to say we're dealing with legitimate threats here."

  Kovas grunts and nods, a slight shadow overcoming his face. A few of the gathering murmur aloud, whispering of this place called Neorome, these gladiatorial games held there. It must be some sort of contest, I think. A contest between powerful warriors. And this Kira...she won?

  I look again at the faces of those in attendance, and can see in their eyes the grandeur of that achievement. Some who'd seethed and grumbled, eyes sparkling with revenge, now withdraw a little, complexions paling.

  From the side, Perses steps back out, pulsing with his great aura as if to give the assembly strength. The murmuring begins to subside as he stands before us all, his jet-black armour tensing with his bulging muscles beneath.

  "What the Overseer saw within Marius's mind cements what we already feared," he says. "However, when combined with the testimony of the surviving soldiers of the Cure, we can view the entire picture in a whole new light." His words bring the audience to silence again. He pauses a moment, before turning back to the Overseer, nodding for him to continue.

  "Indeed," the Overseer says. "What I discovered from Marius is, it's hard to deny, troubling. The young women were both incensed, and sickened, by Nestor's methods of awakening, his penchant for sacrifice and cleansing. Of course, they don't understand what they are dealing with. Powerful though they are, they are not enlightened as we are. This creates a dangerous disunity, a precedent for war. They will, without a doubt, have taken what they saw and experienced back to Haven. It may be possible, even likely, that they have sent out agents and spies to ascertain the truth of who we are. And if so, we have no choice but to act."

  He turns once more to the Prime, who nod again in unison, giving him the authority to proceed. Turning back, the eyes of the Overseer darken, the vibrancy of his voice fading.

  "The men of the Cure came to Haven with an army numbering almost ten thousand strong," he begins. "I witnessed, within the minds of our four captives, the true extent and staggering violence of the battle they were involved in. I saw the city surrounded, the walls breached, the thousands of soldiers storming in. I saw the forces of Haven, depleted by their own internal conflict, come together and fight off the threat, clustering within their inner-city walls, fighting to the last when all seemed to be lost."

  He snaps a breath into his lungs, breaking the brief spell of his tale. His words come with such force and energy that I can almost see it all play out, imagine the scope and scale of it, the sheer loss of life.

  "We all know that Haven defeated the Cure in the end," the Overseer continues, his voice slowing a little, turning quieter. "With a final push, they overcame their enemy, and sent the final dregs fleeing from the city, and marching, ultimately, towards our own lands. However, the way in which they secured victory, and the full extent of their suffering and loss of life, isn't something we have truly known...until now."

  He turns, one final time, to look at the Prime, who smile at him like loving parents, their eyes flowing upon the rest of us. I look at them, and feel that joy swarm in me again, and see the same expressions flood the others' eyes. Such love, such devotion. All here will ever do their will.

  The Overseer turns back, and from the side, Perses looms again. The two stand side by side, one the messenger of the gods, the other their mighty hammer.

  "War with Haven has become inevitable," the Overseer continues. "There is no getting around that now, no hiding from it, no running from it. We will not wait here behind our walls any longer, closed off like frightened sheep." He looks to Perses, whose own eyes tighten. "It is time for us to
be proactive."

  A silence falls now as Perses fills his chest, body brimming with an intense, pulsing energy. His dark eyes glint like black obsidian, catching the light of the sun. He is a man built for war, the greatest weapon of the Prime.

  And to war he will lead us.

  "Haven has grown weak and vulnerable," he says, "and now is the time to strike. If we wait, we lose the initiative. With the will of the Prime, we march."

  I find my heart hammering in my chest, pressing with an energy of nerves and excitement. I look around the group and see the faces of the Heralds darkening, twisting with a thrill to see their true fate fulfilled. Others among the Chosen, the likes of Atlas and Dianna, nod with resolution and resolve, Elian's face split like mine, half enlivened by the prospect of war, and half anxious as to what we'll face.

  "This very day," Perses goes on, "scouts and forward parties will be sent out, clearing our road to war. We will gather our forces here and follow behind them, and make safe the lands that have become so volatile. Not all of you will join us. Only warriors will be permitted to march by my side. The city will remain under the protection of our reserve forces, and will not be left vulnerable to attack. For the first time in our history, we will announce ourselves to the world. It is time, finally, for us to step out of the shadows."

  His words ring out, leading to excited movement among the assembly. I find my eyes working from one to the next again, trying to work out just who might come too. Despite the combined power here, not all are built for conflict. Many, I know, will stay to be with the Prime, to continue their vigil over the city upon the safety of this hill.

  But not me. Oh, not me.

  I will march by Perses's side, and make this city, and the Fringe beyond, safe from any and all threats who might come. I feel no ill-will towards Haven, but if they are to come to our lands, if they are to threaten my people, then what choice do I have?