by Elise Kova
Taavin. The name had her eyes fluttering closed as she allowed the memory of his hands to touch her all over. It was because of him that she was still here.
She’d told him she would see Victor ended before heading to Salvidia. She would look after Vhalla Yarl. Had it been a vow to him or herself? Had it been a vow at all?
Vi couldn’t remember anymore. It didn’t really matter. She was here, now, and Victor would be dead soon. A few days more in the grand plan didn’t make much of a difference.
Reaching into her pocket, Vi retrieved an earring and uttered, “Narro hath.”
The connection stretched out into the ether. Vi watched the circling rune as she waited in silence. There was a long pause before Adela’s voice was heard reverberating toward her, as if the woman stood on the other side of a long cave.
“I was beginning to think you’d died.”
“I am beyond death.”
A noise somewhere between a chuckle of amusement and a sigh reverberated through to her. “Always the odd one… I assume this is the moment where you call on me?”
“Yes. You will go to Risen and collect Deneya—my companion that you dropped there about a year ago. She’ll be waiting to meet your men to the south of the city. Then you will come to Oparium, where I will meet your men in the Cock and Crow. Finally, we will head to Salvidia so that I might put an end to this vortex.”
“Fine, fine.” Adela dismissed matters of the world’s fate with a yawn. “This will use up your remaining trips. You won’t have a way to get back from Salvidia.”
“That’s acceptable.”
“Is it? I hear the elfin’ra are thrilled for fresh meat since their barrier fell. Can’t imagine what they’d do to the Champion of—”
“That’s for me to worry about, not you,” Vi interrupted.
“Very well.” Adela made a clear effort to sound both tired and bored of the situation. “I will head to Risen and then meet you in Oparium.”
Vi dropped the communication glyph and the connection fizzled. She returned the hoop to her pocket and brought her attention back to the fighting far below. Howling wind slammed against the castle’s main entry, battering the heavy doors. Vhalla was there, assaulting it with her gusts.
“Rhoko,” Vi murmured and watched the crystals Victor had caked the doors with shatter. “You’ll need your strength, Vhalla Yarl. Save it for the real battle.”
As the army poured into the castle, Vi descended to meet it.
On her path through the various hallways, she unlocked every door that was barred. With waves of her hands, she sent Victor’s imitation crystals scattering, though more were likely to grow. Raspian’s power radiated from Victor’s body, condensing in the halls he frequented.
They looked like Yargen’s magic to the naked eye, since they were also godly power given form. But Vi could feel how wrong these stones were. They would soon all be destroyed when the man himself perished, then Raspian would need a new mortal vessel—one that would allow him to face her.
Vi continued to walk calmly as the sounds of war filled the air. She descended to the cleric’s old rooms, mostly abandoned now, and donned some clerical garb. Vi put a cloth over her face and knotted her hair simply at the top of her head. Then, she set out to find the clerical portion of the army, adopting her new identity.
Running full tilt to the stables, Vi searched for signs of healers. She saw a few arriving at the end of the vanguard, led by a woman with dark spiral curls—Elecia.
“My lady!” Vi ran over to her. “There’s a wing of the castle that I think would be perfect for triage,” Vi blurted before Elecia could say anything. She kept her voice frantic, as though she was panicked and not deathly calm. “I can show you—it’s a hall not far from here.”
“Show me,” Elecia demanded. “You five, take the men you think we can save and follow us.”
Vi escorted them through the castle to a central dining area that had originally been for servants and staff. It connected up through a stair to the old clerical wing. She looked to Elecia. “Will this do?”
“Well enough. I know where we are. Go and make yourself useful by directing other clerics and wounded here.” Elecia spoke to the five who had carried wounded soldiers with them. “Lay them out here, the worst on those tables. We’ll overflow to the garden down the hall if we need to.”
Vi went to leave, but something stopped her. It wasn’t a whisper of the goddess, but words from the young woman she’d once been. If she was successful, and the world didn’t end… This was the last moment she had to adjust anything in the Solaris Empire.
These final hours were her last chance to right any wrongs.
“Elecia.” A sliver of the girl she’d once been returned with the memories of the sting of a betrayal most cruel.
“What?” she said sharply, turning.
“Wounds of the mind can be more damaging and harder to heal than those of the flesh,” Vi said. “The man with the sword of wheat lives. Tell the remaining members of his golden brethren to seek him out. They will do what must be done.”
Daniel is alive, Vi wanted to say. Look after him. But she couldn’t. It was hard to speak straight now. Her mouth—her entire body—wasn’t really her own anymore, and every action was a negotiation.
“All right…” Elecia said uncertainly and confusion alight in her eyes.
“Excuse me,” Vi gave a bow and spun on her heel, leaving before the woman could question her.
She didn’t head back down to collect other wounded men and women still lying on the streets of the city, as Elecia had instructed. Instead, she strolled out to a garden and positioned herself hidden among the shrubbery, where she could watch a birdcage greenhouse.
This is a place of fate.
Aldrik appeared, frantic, Vhalla dying in his arms. There was no sign of Victor. He was defeated then.
She’d been right: the magic he’d siphoned from Raspian was little more than a taste. If it had been anything of substance, Vhalla and Aldrik wouldn’t have been able to end him. She could already feel the dark god’s magic leaving this place like a heavy fog lifting. It dissipated into the ether between the worlds of men and gods, to search for its next host.
Aldrik ran out and then returned with Elecia. But the curly haired woman soon darted from the greenhouse, shouting, “I’m going to try to find Sehra!”
The instinct was right. Out of everyone, Sehra was the only one with enough magic to heal Vhalla. But the girl was not versed enough—not powerful enough—to cure the wounds Vhalla had.
Durroe watt ivin. The words echoed from within. She didn’t need to speak them aloud anymore. She was as much the words as the words were her. The glyphs bent to her will, rising to the surface, and giving her Sehra’s face.
She stepped forward and drifted down the path before entering the greenhouse.
The first thing she noticed was the smell of roses, potent and bright, warm and oddly familiar.
Where did we smell these before?
Ah, yes.
These were Fiera’s roses. Just one inhale took her all the way back to the early days on this world. But that had been a different Vi then, a less evolved one. A Vi who had wants and fears—all things she was now able to set aside.
“Sehra,” Aldrik pleaded with tears in his eyes. “Save her please, your magic, can it—”
“I understand.” Vi’s eyes rested on Vhalla. Their last meeting in that long, dark night had been so contentious and painful. Those were emotions she hardly felt now, looking at the girl. Crackles of red lightning illuminated the air around Vhalla, visible only to Vi’s new eyes. Her magic had been cast out of balance. Raspian was a wicked entity, indeed. Kneeling next to her, Vi spoke gently, “You did well. The crystals’ magic is diminishing. They were never meant to be used as they were, manipulated for man’s greed. They weren’t left with that intent.”
“What?” Aldrik asked.
“You saw them. They turn brittle and shatter under their own weight. They will
be gone by dawn.” And I will take the magic of the divine off this land for good. If Vi had one wish left, it was to see that nothing of Raspian, or Yargen, ever returned to the Dark Isle.
“Princess, we need to act quickly,” Aldrik urged. “She’s dying.”
“I know.” Vi’s attention remained solely on Vhalla. “Vhalla Yarl, after all that you have been through, do you still want to be upon this earth?”
“How can you ask that? Of course I do.”
“Of course,” Vi repeated. Fate still had plans for Vhalla, after all. Plans that Vi’s yet mortal consciousness couldn’t fully grasp. “Very well. I will grant you the power of Yargen one more time. I will change this fate set before you.”
Her body moved and both of Vi’s hands were on Vhalla’s cheeks. She felt a small smile cross her lips. Was this what happiness and contentment felt like? She couldn’t remember.
Halleth.
The word flowed through her. There weren’t any modifiers, any need for clarification—simply, heal. With a tender touch, Vi guided every frayed and out-of-place thread of magic within her body back into its rightful spot. She mended wounds. She sought to return Vhalla to the state she was in before this darkness had settled on the land.
Satisfied, Vi pulled her hands away and stood. She swayed slightly, looking at Vhalla and Aldrik for what she knew was the last time. These people she’d watched over for years. Now, she would leave them to live out their days as they were meant to do.
“Are you all right?” Aldrik asked her.
“I am, but time is short. I’m no longer meant for this world.” She had a dark god to settle the score with.
“Sehra, we can seek out another cleric.”
“No need.” Vi paused at the door. “You did well, but things are only beginning. The vortex still spins.” And the only one who could end it was her.
“Sehra!” Vhalla jumped to her feet.
“If that is the name you choose.” Vi gave her one last smile and slipped out the door, walking away from the lives of Vhalla and Aldrik one final time.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sea mist sprayed her face as Vi sat serenely in the rowboat that carried her far out around the corners of the cliffs of Oparium. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, feet tucked under her. She swayed with the rolling of the ocean, never off-balance, always expecting the next wave that would jostle the little vessel.
The pirates who were escorting her, however, had less luck. They were tossed back and forth in the gray seas. A storm brewed on the horizon; Vi searched it for red lightning.
The Stormfrost stood anchored in a wide-mouthed cove. The mist that peeled off of it in sheets acted as a natural camouflage, mostly obscuring the vessel in fog. But there wasn’t much travel in these waters yet. Victor had died a mere day ago, and significant rebuilding had to happen before anyone was trading in the seas around the Dark Isle.
The pirates gave her wary glances from time to time, more when they hooked up the rigging. The natural magics surrounding their bodies, the ones Vi was learning made up every living thing, vibrated with apprehension. She made them anxious, which amused her.
At least, she thought it was amusing to her.
One of the men reluctantly offered her his hand to help her on deck and Vi accepted it. He went rigid at her touch and then massaged his palm when her fingertips left it. A smile quirked her lips. Yes, these mortal anxieties were, indeed, amusing, much like she imagined a mother would be amused by their child fretting over a rip in the dress of a beloved doll.
“I was beginning to wonder when you would come,” Adela griped, tapping over to her with her cane in hand.
“Everything in its own time. No sooner. No later.”
“Yes, well…” For the first time, even Adela seemed off-put by her. “Your friend is below. I trust you remember the cabin.”
“Thank you,” Vi said and gave a nod.
She descended belowdecks as Adela shouted, “Raise the anchor! Let’s get out of this backwater place!”
A woman emerged from a cabin door. Her bright blue eyes met Vi’s and they were flooded with relief. Deneya threw her arms around Vi’s shoulders. Vi slowly lifted her arms and gently patted the woman’s back as she believed a friend would.
“It has been forever.”
“Not that long.”
“Okay, you’re right, it’s been about a year.” Deneya laughed, pulling away. Her face suddenly became somber. She scanned the otherwise empty hall. “Where’s Taavin?”
“His consciousness returned to the watch. Why? I do not know. It was his will I believe. The watch is within Vhalla’s possession and the essence of Yargen that his body was constructed from is within me now.”
“Okay… that was a lot.” Deneya clasped her shoulder, giving her a light shake. “I’m not ashamed to admit that I only followed half of that. And that’s okay but, Vi, what really happened?”
“I have told you what has happened.”
“No, I mean, with you.”
“I have told you what has happened,” Vi repeated, slightly more curt. She couldn’t blame the mortal for not fully understanding, but it would be tiring to say the same explanation over and over.
“No, you’re…” Deneya trailed off again. Confusion furrowed her brow. “You’re different now.”
“I know.”
“It’s all the crystal magic, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Deneya stared at her expectantly. Vi suspected she was waiting for her to explain further. But Vi didn’t make even a remote effort to do so. It was clearly too much for Deneya to understand.
“How are you holding up?” Deneya asked delicately.
“I’m fine. Do you have it?” Vi shifted the topic of conversation.
“What? Oh. Yes.”
“Show me.”
Deneya led Vi back into the cabin. It was the same as last time—two bunks on either side of a small window. Beneath the window was a table and on the table was a golden box.
Vi opened it and, with her new eyes, saw the glyphs of a thousand divine words swirling around every speck of ash.
“When they find out the flame is gone, they’ll likely kill the Voice for it,” Deneya said gravely.
“She served her duty to this world.” Vi hoped the words would cheer Deneya, though they didn’t look like they did. “She was meant to die.” Still, no change in her expression. Vi sighed. “You see, because she died, I will be able to become—”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Deneya interrupted. “What I don’t understand is how you can say it that way.”
“What way?” She’d merely been stating fact.
“As if someone’s death means nothing.” Deneya approached her. “When I last saw you… you negotiated with a pirate for a single boy’s life who was nothing more to you than a friend’s lover—a friend from another world, even. You enlisted in the army just to save the daughter of a woman you’d once called ‘friend.’ You fought fate to save a man whom you, in fact, had no relationship with, because he shared the same face as the man who’d raised you.” Her purple-ringed eyes searched Vi’s. “What happened to that woman?”
“She’s gone,” Vi said, lightly touching Deneya’s forearm. “But it’s all right, because I am here now. I will protect this world.”
“I don’t know who you are. And I don’t even know if I want you here.” Deneya shook her head and stepped away. “What Champion sees the lives of those they’re sworn to protect as forfeit? What world is worth protecting if everyone in it is just a piece on some game board for higher powers?” Deneya waited for a response, but Vi kept her mouth closed. She could see the woman didn’t really want to hear anything she had to say. With a sigh, Deneya opened the door. “If you need me, I’ll be on deck.”
Deneya was in pain. The idea of people dying still hurt her. Vi looked to the ashes for solace. Deneya couldn’t see the lines of magic that connected everything and everyone to keep the world in bala
nce, like Vi could. She didn’t know how life continued on within those unseen connections.
She was oblivious to the meaning in everything.
That was all right. A slight smile crossed her lips. Mortals could be like that, couldn’t they? And their shortsightedness made them endearing.
She sat on the lower bunk that did not look like it had been slept in. She took the open box, placed it in her lap, and remained transfixed on its contents.
“But you understand, don’t you?” Vi whispered.
I do.
“You will help me see that all these deaths have meaning? That there is no pointless suffering… even if they cannot see how their pain has a hand in fate?”
I will.
“Thank you.” Vi beamed from ear to ear. “Is now the time?”
Not yet. Enjoy your final hours on this earth.
“When it happens, will it hurt?”
No, it will not hurt. When it happens, you will not feel anything.
“Good,” Vi murmured. She closed her eyes, thinking of the most logical path to Salvidia. It would take them at least five days to get there. That was a lot of time to sit with a goddess. “I would like to ask you something.”
You would like to ask me a great many things.
“True.” She chuckled faintly. Laughter felt weird now. Even breathing felt strange, as though it was an unnecessary task her body insisted on doing. Yet, when she tried to stop, her lungs burned until her mouth gave in. “Tell me of the world beyond Salvidia? Tell me what lies beyond the seas, beyond the large continent to the southwest of Meru?”
You wish to know of the whole world.
“Yes.” Vi closed her eyes, remembering the vision Yargen had given her of the room high above the world. The place where everything was seen and known.
You will know it, child.
“When?”
When we reach the final stop on your journey, I will give you the opportunity to know everything.
Vi stood on the deck of the vessel as they approached the isle of the elfin’ra. It was a barren place, with stone structures cutting up the horizon like pretend mountains. Somewhere, in the center of it all, were those ritualistic ruins that had stood for centuries. The same ruins Vi had seen in one of her early visions.
