KINGSLAYER

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"Of course not. That would be a surefire way to get caught. But we're far from your soldiers now..." He trailed off in an insinuation that needed no words.

I huffed, looking away. "You certainly do take joy in threatening me."

"I figured I have to make up for all the times no one else had the balls to."

"How thoughtful of you. Still, thoughtfulness will not make me hand over my murder weapon to you."

"Perhaps I wouldn't murder you." At that, a male tourist couple gaped as we passed.

"You managing to grow a sense of self-control is less likely than me becoming a peasant."

"Where is your crown? Where are your riches?" He waved a dismissive hand. "As far as I'm concerned, you already are a peasant as long as you are stranded here."

"I suppose I should get your advice on how better to be one, seeing as you have clearly remained a peasant your entire life."

I ignored his scathing response, gaze fixed on the thick-columned temple creating a split in the street. Its series of stairs were covered with milling religious people wishing to pay their respects. Though I was unable to view the inside from how far away we were, I knew it was a combined temple not for one deity in particular, but rather the ten elite Gods.

Pausing in my stride, I watched the stream of visitors on the front steps. I wished to visit but the place was chock-full. Amongst so many voices, my prayers would be drowned out.

A war raged in my head. I looked up to the sky, the sun's descent darkening the cloud layer. There would not be much more time to wind through the city's busy streets before nightfall. And I had promised a sacrifice to Hali. Still, it was difficult to convince myself the extra hour's worth of travel could wait until tomorrow.

"We will return to the temple tomorrow," I told Khan, still feeling strange that I now had a partner to relay information to. "Just as dawn breaks. And we will pray to the Gods the tourists are not morning people."

He only grunted a reply, clearly not as driven to visit the temple as I was. I was hardly excited anticipating the complaining he would inevitably do as I piously completed my religious rituals.

We parted ways after renting two neighboring rooms from the cheapest inn in sight. It seemed Khan's pickpocketing hobby had given us more payoff than I expected. I took my meal in my room, scarfing it down in a rather un-Queenly way, as I had not eaten anything else. I could nearly hear my mother's chiding voice in my head. Laying my still-aching body on the bed, I was asleep before the sky even went completely dark.

I dreamt of fire.

Raging flames filled the land as far as the eye could see. Yellow, glowing, merciless. Ash fell from the sky as if it was molten rain. There might have been screaming, but it was hardly audible over the roar of the inferno.

Chulli was nowhere to be seen, but I heard His laugh. Thick and booming, it rolled out over the land as He took joy in the destruction of His element.

But all I could do was watch, frozen in time.

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The streets were miraculously empty. The sky above had barely lightened, this owed to both the early hour and the thick cloud layer. The city was still swathed in shadow as I did my best to remember the exact placement of the temple. Under an arm, I carried my breakfast in a bundle.

Khan trudged to my left, not happy I had awoken him so early. I was sure he was rethinking his words from yesterday about how he may not kill me.

A sudden sound made me whirl to face a darkened break between a couple of shops. My frown softened when I saw it was only a local dog, its mouth full with a stolen strip of meat; Ition had a large canine population, to the joy of its citizens, who fed them at any opportunity. The two of us watched it trot jovially across our path before turning our attention to the tall temple across the square.

My boots thumped as I climbed the long series of steps to the doors—they were meant to be open any hour of the day for anyone wishing to have contact with the Gods. It seemed to be a different, more holy place when not abounding with people.

Once inside, I saw it was not much different from the ones I was familiar with at home: a massive room lined with ten larger-than-life statues of the elite Gods and Goddesses made of ivory and gold. The floor was shiny and spotless, cleaned religiously by the priests who lived here.

As if hearing my thoughts, a priestess approached us, wearing bone-colored robes with sleeves hanging gracefully down to near her unseen feet. The thick fabric hanging over her shoulders and down the front of her skirt was embroidered with gold to have the appearance of wings.

"Do you wish to make a sacrifice?" She asked softly in the Eastern Language. I nodded, holding up my bundle of food.

She led me to the altar, which was as spotless as the floor despite seeing hundreds of sacrifices a day. I placed the pile of food on top and the bundle fell open, revealing the wrapped cake of egg with Itionic breakfast ingredients inside.

Animal sacrifices were traditional, but were quickly falling out of favor. Not only were people realizing the questionable ethics involved, but time had shown that the Gods favored other things. Food, especially. The idea was that the human in question would give up a single meal so that the Gods might eat from wherever they had disappeared off to. Some people even gave larger sacrifices, such as costly material items, in hopes the Gods would return.

The priestess lit a firestick and held it over the meal, slowly lighting it ablaze. For a split second, I was reminded of last night's dream.

Leaning ever so slightly forward, I said in my native tongue, "Hali, accept this offering." The words hung in the air as the smoke sailed up through a skylight, allowing it to reach the heavens. As the air filled with the smell of cooking food, I wondered how our ancestors ever believed the Gods would appreciate a mauled goat over this.

All that was left were ashes. The priestess stepped forward to collect them from the altar and I turned away. My eyes connected with Khan's for a moment as I ensured he was not doing anything to desecrate this holy place. If either of us had our way, he would not be here. His presence was something similar to a mother dragging a petulant child to do chores.

Knees to the floor, I knelt in the center of the temple and let my eyes close of their own accord. I wished to feel the Gods' spirits, some sort of consolation they saw what I was planning to become. Having confidence in myself was integral, but more often than not, it felt as if I was the only one feeling that way. Both my mother and father claimed I was blessed by the Gods at birth—it was time to see if this was true.

They were my only semblance of control, I realized. I truly had no one else anymore.

On that depressing note, I began to silently pray for my victory against Seifer Daggen. I prayed for my people's safety and well-being. I prayed for my safe passage across the continent.

And I prayed history would treat me kindly.