The Jewel of Orlegon

Chapter 4: Circle of Fire

The wait continued for a long while after Alteria had joined the crowd of young people waiting on the Grand Place. The crowd was too dense to see anything happening at the entrance of the tent, but one could regularly hear people holding their breath as one of the participants took longer than the others to emerge. However, invariably, they all resurfaced after a few minutes. There was no regret on the faces of the young people leaving the square, most of them smiling and accompanied by their friends. After all, no one really thought they could stay inside the tent; it was indeed strange that the Enartians persisted in performing the Calling on the island after a century of failure.

As Alteria finally began to catch a glimpse of the end of the queue and see people leaving the tent, a murmur arose in the square. The sound of hooves echoed from the cobbled street that connected the square to the governor's palace. Mounted on her horse, the island's sole horse, dressed as if she were attending her own wedding, Minea parted the crowd, which obediently made way for her. With a regal bearing that made her appear taller than she actually was, she was escorted by Nirchaïn and his brother Lwod, who flanked her closely and kept a watchful eye on the crowd that separated their charge from her destination.

When the Little Lady reached Alteria's vicinity, she hesitated for a moment to block her path and force her to dismount and continue on foot. However, she thought better of it, realizing that it was best to keep a low profile that day, so she quickly stepped back a few paces. Minea dismounted only when she was a few meters from the gray tent. There, she handed the reins to Lwod, who eagerly took them, then moved away to tie the horse in the shade while his mistress tended to her business. The last candidate to pass through the piece of fabric that served as the tent's entrance emerged shortly after the Little lady's arrival, but this time, unlike the others who had returned home, he was accompanied by someone. His attire left no doubt about his identity – he was one of the Enartians.

Unlike the soldiers of the imperial army, whose warships docked on the island only on rare occasions, the Enartians did not wear uniforms in the strict sense. However, everyone knew that the servants of the Goddess always wore immaculate white attire when they appeared in public, paying homage to the deity they protected. The young man who had just emerged to understand the reason for the commotion that had filled the square was wearing thick fabric pants covered by a fine shirt over which he had donned a short-sleeved woolen tunic. Everything, including the leather of his belt, was pristine white, except for his gray boots and a leather bracelet of the same color that he wore on his left forearm. Alteria was impressed that the Enartian wasn't melting in the heat, given how ill-suited his attire seemed for Nimeo's climate. The shirt alone would have sufficed, especially considering it was the first time he had left the shelter of the tent, which, given the fabric it was made of, must have been just as hot as the temple of the volcano.

The Enartian didn't appear much older than Alteria by a few years, but his presence immediately brought calm to the front rows of the crowd. He briefly scrutinized Minea, who shot him a defiant glance that didn't hide her assurance. Despite all the powers he possessed, she was still the governor's daughter, and it was better for both of them to avoid a diplomatic blunder. As a result, the young man made no comment about the lady's dramatic arrival and merely signaled for her to follow him. The piece of fabric fell back silently, concealing from the rest of the world what was transpiring within the ephemeral shelter.

Minutes passed by, one by one, and Minea still hadn't resurfaced. The entire square seemed to hold its breath; traders temporarily halted their transactions, onlookers stopped in their tracks, and even the noise of Tarnön's forge fell silent as everyone waited for their little lady's return. Only Alteria felt a growing knot of anxiety in her stomach. Among all the inhabitants of the island, Minea was the most likely to be chosen, and for good reason – she was born on the mainland, and if there was a curse, it couldn't have befallen her. In that moment, Alteria's thoughts raced; if they were both chosen, what would happen? Or worse, if the governor's daughter was chosen and she wasn't, how would she cope with that?