Rebirth

Thirty Three

Callahan stared at what remained of his wife and only friend.

His Queen and the Princess of Xathania. The women who had been there for him despite his shortcomings. The women who had protected everything they loved with fierceness and courage. Courage that he didn't have, that he had never really been able to summon. It was why his love and consort lay dead on pyre.

The King of Xathania stood beside him and so did the warden of Opir and his first son. A woman stepped forward and sang a song for the passage of their souls, as the King of Xathania claimed. Callahan did not pay him any mind as he stared at his wife and then his friend.

He was weak.

He had lost everyone and everything but he couldn't leave Welkamia in Darin's grasp. Zack had made preparation to sail for Milkarea with their standing army. The Warden had assured him that his banners would follow. It was the least he could do for his children.

They had been in Opir for two weeks as the Warden's death keepers tried to piece his wife, Freya, Reid and Grey together. Once they did their best, the pyres were built and burnt at dawn.

Afterwards, there was a quiet meal which led Callahan to contemplate the trip ahead of him. Abbel had not confirmed if he would sail under the banner of Xathania, not yet anyway. Callahan pushed his food around before the warden stood, along with the rest of the table. A noble man waddled his way to inform him that the warden requested his presence.

Callahan walked past the five feet tall man and followed the warden. He had been in Opir long enough to know that they were walking towards his throne room. The elegant space came into view and so did the people within it.

Red hair.

Blonde hair.

Brown hair.

Black hair.

Holy gods. Holy gods.

Callahan ran past the warden to Anne who barely saw him coming until he was hugging her. He didn't think it was the time to keep his emotions in check as he let his sobs echo in the room. He felt two more hugs and immediately knew that they were Hana and Clair's.

His family was safe.

They had been this whole time.

Celina hated Darin of Zolt.

The man was scum and perhaps she should not have had these thoughts about him as the mother would not approve but she would not also approve of a rapist and usurper. Yet another palace maid had ran to her seeking asylum. The woman shook violently and she finally regained herself. She had said that he had violated her.

It explained her bruises and bleeding.

It explained the various young women who had come offering the Mother flowers and fruit in exchange for vengeance on their behalf. Vengeance that would require the order of Luna and Reso.

So, that night.

The High Priestess of the Mother and her acolytes knelt before the alter of Lona and prayed for the downfall of their tyrant king.

Eleonor had quite enough with the disappearing she had done in such a short span of time. She heard whispers as she and Eric began to regain their physical appearance. They were soothing yet sad. It worried her. She didn't know why but she did soon enough.

She came to be at a place she knew well. The Sect of Goxa was what she called it for there was nothing great nor grand about it except Gerald's pride in naming it for Lona, the Mother.

An acolyte looked up for a spilt second but met her eyes. The girl stopped praying and so did her sisters soon enough. The High Priestess looked at her and looked like the very air in her lungs had diminished. Before she could get to them, Eleonor and Eric were gone. Eleonor saw only clouds. The clouds changed the higher they went, the more the clouds changed.

They came to be in a garden of all sorts of red flowers.

Roses.

Lilies.

Poppies.

All blood red. The grass was a light shade of pink and red. Eric held her hand as they walked through the garden that could pass for a forest if the trees were any taller.

They stumbled into a clearing. Two children were being entertained by a man who wielded fire for their amusement while they sat in the grass. They giggled and laughed, not noticing Eleonor and Eric until Eleonor noticed that the children were oddly familiar.

It was then that the man looked at them. He had fire in his eyes. His hair was crismson red and his skin was like hers, golden.

'What is it?' He asked, irritated by their presence.

Eleonor wanted to respond but couldn't. How would she explain her situation, their situation to the man before them. There was a short lived silence as one of the children squealed and ran to her. The second followed, nearly knocking her down. They began to ramble about flying horse and giant wolves and a dragon?

The man stood from the grass and approached them, Eric stepped forward and the man smirked before halting.

'Eric and Eleonor of Foxam,' the man said. 'Rebels,' he added looking between them. 'Who are they to you?'

'Their mother is a friend,' Eleonor answered without hesitation. 'Why are they here?'

The man raised a brow but answered anyway, 'They were locked in a cell and were to be executed.'

Eleonor's blood boiled and before she could ask any more, he narrated the rest of it. That Freya was not Xathanian or Human. The Daughter of Helias. She was capable of wielding more power than Helias himself but she was dead and her father went in search of her and Plotas' consort.

'Cora and Freya are dead?' She swayed a bit and the children knew to step back.

'So, are...' the man paused and stared. His eyes grew wide with realization. He swayed a bit and Eric moved forward to help but the man held up his hand before setting his sights on Eric.

The man didn't seem to breathe.

It worried Eleonor. It really did. She almost asked after his well being when he said, 'the dragon and the phoenix.'

A chill ran down Eleonor's form.

'I am Nix,' he added. 'The spirit of Midres and I have been waiting for you.'