The pair continued up the mountain, Devyn's head full of a wide array of thoughts as she turned over what Aneira had said again and again. Clearly the blonde girl had no idea what she was talking about. Me? Brave? Yeah, right. But her words held a wisdom — and, perhaps, kindness — that Devyn was far from used to. She fidgeted with her hands as she considered the words.
I've never even thought of myself as brave for... pretending. I thought that was a move of a coward, Devyn told herself, glancing curiously up at Aneira. The blonde was too focused on the rough terrain of the mountain path beneath them to see that Devyn was watching her. The dark-haired girl turned her gaze back to the ground. How can she possibly see me as more than a failure? All she's seen of me is from the battlefield and from a prison cell. I doubt she could even come up with a decent view of me. But Aneira somehow saw beyond all of that, and it made something inside of Devyn swell with a warm feeling she was unfamiliar with.
Devyn was about to open her mouth to ask how Aneira had come up with the words to tell her, to ask how she had managed to lie so easily while keeping such a pleasant tone, but she paused as soon as her eyes lifted from the path. The environment around them had changed. They were no longer surrounded by only rocks and sand, but strange silhouettes of twisted, dead trees were popping up on either side as they continued to climb. The path had widened into a clearing; they were no longer at such a steep incline, but instead a much more gradual one as they came closer to the peak. The sky had seemingly darkened, even though Devyn's instincts told her that it was still no later than midday. Clouds had crawled their way in the higher they went, blocking out the sun and causing a light breeze to tickle her cheeks. Devyn's spine tingled with unease. There was something that felt so terribly wrong about this place. She eyed one of the strangely bent tree trunks, lacking leaves and stripped of their bark, and shuddered despite herself.
"So," Aneira blurted suddenly, and as Devyn glanced over at her she could tell that the other young woman was just as unnerved by the eeriness of their new surroundings as she was. The blonde bit nervously at her bottom lip, her grey eyes darting between the twisted trees and Devyn. "Um, what's life like in Dreg?"
Devyn's eyebrows hitched up, surprised by the question. "Oh. It's... nice. I mean, there's not much to the place in particular — it's probably no different than other places — but I have some friends I like hanging out with and such." She trailed off there, but Aneira still seemed to be waiting for more, so the dark-haired girl rolled her eyes a bit and continued. "My best friend is Rhona. They're the greatest. They're working as a healer right now, which was their dream from the beginning. Especially before I became a captain, we'd goof off with each other all the time." She paused, considering whether she should be revealing any more about her personal life, before continuing.
"There was this one time when we sneaked out of our houses in the middle of the night and ran down to the lake nearby. You know, the one that feeds into the river we passed on the way here. Anyway, Rhona and I were the only ones there; no one would go out for a swim that late at night. For a while, we just... hung out. Sitting at the edge of the lake, barefoot, our toes dipping into the water as it lapped gently at the shore." A hint of a smile crawled its way onto her lips in spite of herself. "And then something jumped out of the water — looking back, it was probably just a big fish — and the two of us just up and bolted. We didn't even bother to put our boots back on; we just carried them as we ran. We didn't stop until our lungs burned and our legs gave out beneath us." Devyn chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, as she lifted her gaze to glance up at Aneira. The blonde was listening avidly, her grey eyes watching her with interest and perhaps something more that Devyn couldn't decipher. "My feet were killing me that night. I regretted it in the morning, but... I think that's the last time we really hung out with each other. The war got bad after that, and... Yeah. We didn't get the chance."
As she trailed off into silence, Aneira nodded gently. "The two of you sound so close. That's amazing." The blonde kicked a rock as they walked, sending it skittering off to the side until it hit a fallen branch. Instead of ricocheting, it stopped rolling and remained there against the dead wood. Aneira's eyes returned to Devyn as their gazes stopped following the path of the rock and looked back up as one.
"Do you have anyone you're close to? In Ledah?" Devyn asked, feeling a bit awkward. She was unused to picking up casual conversation with anyone; even Aneira seemed more adept at it than her.
The blonde's eyes lit up, as if she'd been waiting for her to ask that. "Yeah, actually. My friend Carys. She can be a bit... much." Aneira broke out into a soft laugh and Devyn couldn't help but smile a little. "She's the most involved person I've ever met, besides maybe one of the head ministers, always knowing all the gossip and probably causing a lot of her own drama as well. Carys lives for it. If I leave out all the 'juicy details,' she'll beg and beg until I finally tell her something more."
"She sounds..." Devyn trailed off, unable to think of a proper word to describe the girl.
"Like a lot? She is," Aneira answered for her, nodding in agreement. "But she's also the most loyal friend I've ever had. She's always there, stepping in from the sidelines whenever I need something that a fellow soldier just can't provide." She smiled a smile so full of emotion that Devyn's lips twitched as if they wished to replicate it. She wasn't sure whether she would have frowned or smiled in that moment, since she didn't get the chance. Something in the air had shifted, whether it was a breeze or simply a change in temperature.
"We're close," Devyn whispered. She held up a hand to keep Aneira quiet, though the girl had already finished speaking and had fallen into silence on her own. Devyn glanced warily at the bare trees around them. Nothing had changed, but it sure felt as if something had, as if they had entered a new place altogether and everything else had fallen away to reveal it. A fog had collected at the bases of the twisted trees, making it even harder to see. Devyn was squinting to make out the silhouette of something on the horizon when something tugged gently at her sleeve. She flinched, but it was only Aneira, her grey eyes flashing bright in the dim of the mist.
"Look," the girl murmured, her eyes going wide as her gaze locked on something to Devyn's left. Aneira held up a hand to point and Devyn followed her finger with her stare until she saw it: a large stone dais just at the edge of the fog to their left.
She nodded her approval and cautiously started towards it at once, feeling deep in her being that this was what they were looking for. The fog seemed to drift away as the pair grew closer, until suddenly it blew out all at once and the air around them was perfectly clear again. Devyn's hands flexed, her fingers curling in and out as she fell into her usual pattern of fidgeting. That's it, she thought to herself as the dais came into view. There's nothing else that could possibly fit what we're looking for.
The stone dais was old, very much so. The grey stone it was made from was carved with a large square base, three smaller levels stacked in the center to create a series of steps that led to an altar-like platform where objects could be set. The wall just behind the dais, Devyn noticed as they drew closer, had a mural painted upon it, mostly faded from age. She studied it with curiosity.
A great shadowy beast took up the center of the old painting, its wings splayed to either side as it spread its might upon the world beneath it. As Devyn saw that its face was painted in white, she knew that it had to be Nyswell's creature, Cigis, the very same one that the two girls had stumbled across on their ascent. She shuddered at the memory of the bird-like beast, at the lack of hesitation it had displayed in attacking the pair. The mural didn't just include the raven beast; there were several other characters that Devyn recognized in the faded painting. At the very top, just above the beast, was a robed man, his long dark hair flowing down his back. His eyes were dark as the shadows themselves; his robe was the color of blood. Nyswell. The man held up his hands as if to puppeteer his beast, and then Devyn noticed what the creature was attacking. Right at the bottom of the mural, nearly completely faded at this point, was a young woman with light flaxen hair. She was curled up, as if asleep. But Devyn knew better, and as she peered closer, her assumption was confirmed. The young woman was no one other than Sera, goddess of the light, her eyes screwed shut with fear as she cowered beneath the shadowy god and his creature.
Devyn hadn't realized that she'd stopped until Aneira stepped up beside her. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, then distaste, as she eyed the mural. Devyn watched as her jaw worked. She clearly didn't like the painting one bit, and it wasn't hard at all to guess why.
"Okay," Aneira mumbled, and Devyn could hear the bitterness in her tone. It surprised her a little; Devyn was always the bitter one. "Where's the thing we need to collect? It's a piece of that dumb beast's skull, right?"
The dark-haired girl nodded, finally walking closer to the dais. She couldn't figure out where the trinket would be hidden — for it had to be; no one would keep such a valuable weapon out in the open — nor could she find any slots were the shard would be locked away. She warily stepped onto the dais to examine the only spot she hadn't checked: the top of the little platform at the uppermost level of the dais. The steps were steep, making the dais tall despite having only four levels in total, and Devyn had to stand on her tiptoes to peer onto the slate platform at the smallest level.
"It's... a bowl." Devyn said aloud, just loud enough for Aneira to hear where she stood several feet from the base of the dais. "I don't get it. It's just made out of stone, fixed to this sort of altar." She trailed off as she noticed something etched into the side of the dais, too faint to be seen from afar. It had clearly been carved during the making of the dais all those years ago, now so old and shallow that the words could barely be read. Devyn leaned closer to see them properly.
Shadows can conquer the brightest of light.
Sera's descendants will die by our might.
To unlock the key that will take them all down,
Fill the dish with bright blood
And make them all drown.
At first Devyn was confused. Her eyebrows furrowed as she peered closer still, trying to find anything else that would explain the purpose of the bowl and the carved message. Then realization shot down her spine, as cold and unwelcome as a sudden hailstorm.
"It's a sacrifice that's needed," she murmured, her gaze finally lifting from the altar to look back over at Aneira. The girl barely flinched as the words escaped her mouth, her spine only stiffening slightly. "It requires the blood of a descendant of Sera."
"All of Ledah is descended from her; at least, according to the mythology," Aneira added in a soft tone. "So you need Ledian blood, from someone like..." She left off the last word, the lone syllable that would make it all real in an instant. But they both knew it was there; they both knew what fate awaited them.
Devyn nodded, eyeing the altar again as more and more dread for what was to come filled her mind. She heard movement: a shift of fabric, the light padding of footsteps. She turned around, expecting to see Aneira making a break for it. Instead, the blonde girl had taken her own sword from its sheath. Devyn braced herself for a strike; now was as good a time as any for Aneira to take her down. But Aneira set the blade of the sword flat on the palms of her hands and knelt down on one knee before Devyn. It took her a moment to realize what was happening. Aneira was offering herself freely as the sacrifice.
"It needs a Ledian's blood, and since there aren't any other Ledian prisoners with you..." Aneira shrugged, her voice crackly with fear despite her attempts to sound amused. "And either way, you're more important, being the sole leading captain and whatnot in Dreg. I'm just one minister out of several; they'll be fine without me." A calmness had taken over her tone, one that seemed even more unsettling than the fear Devyn had heard only moments before. "Besides, you hate me. Now you get to finally end this, once and for all."
Devyn stared, slightly bewildered, down at the weapon laid across Aneira's hands. When the blonde girl continued to kneel silently in front of her, she tentatively picked the sword up by its pommel. It felt strange to be holding the sword that had fought her for so long, the sword that had created the thin vertical scar on her cheek, which Devyn could see in her reflection in the silvery blade. Her hand grew tighter on the weapon's handle and she raised it up, ready to disembowel her enemy in one fell swoop. It'll be painless, she silently promised both herself and Aneira. It'll be over in an instant. She raised the sword higher still, saw the blonde hunch down as she prepared herself for what was about to happen, and then Devyn froze as something hit her. Not physically, but mentally, internally. A memory. No. Memories were of things that had already happened. This was something that was going to happen, something that Devyn wished would happen. A dream.
The thought came in flashes. First came a royal green cape, a silver blade, a whiff of smoke. Then came a flash of blonde hair, a brush of lips, a swell of an emotion that Devyn didn't quite recognize right away, and then refused to acknowledge as she came to understand it. More and more flashes joined the others, until it was such an overwhelming cacophony in Devyn's head that she sucked in a breath. Above all else, she saw hands. Hands clasped together; hands tangled in hair both dark and light; hands gripping hips and shoulders and arms. It all faded into oblivion, into the chaos of the thousands of other ideas, and then one flashed in at the last moment. Another pair of hands, this time belonging to only a single person. Blood. A pale, grey-eyed corpse. Regret.
Devyn flinched as the thoughts finally subsided, though the final flashes still hung in her sight, tattooed on the insides of her eyelids. Her heart was racing with the rush of all that she had seen and felt. Her dark eyes darted immediately to her hands, which were still holding onto the handle of the silver-edged blade as if it were a lifeline. She flinched as the final flashes rose once more to the surface, and she stumbled back so quickly, dropping the sword with a feeling of horror, that she tripped on the lowest step of the stone dais. She let out a groan as her head hit the step above it, and for a moment all she saw was stars.
Then she saw a face, one with grey eyes that pooled with concern. Devyn blinked the black spots from her vision as Aneira came into focus. The girl hesitantly offered a hand and Devyn took it, sitting up and remaining hunched over until her head stopped spinning. The blonde sat down beside her on the dais step.
They sat in silence for a moment, Devyn taking long and shaky breaths to calm herself down and to let the throbbing fade from her head, until Aneira finally blurted, "Why didn't you do it? Do... do you want to try again? I've accepted my fate already, if that makes you feel any better about it."
"No. Stars, no. I'm not doing this. I- I can't do this. And, this time, I don't think that's a bad thing." The words left her mouth in a rush. Devyn watched as Aneira's eyes flashed with surprise. She remembered the image of the grey-eyed corpse and shuddered, hugging herself. "I can't kill you, blondie. Definitely not like this."
Aneira watched her for a long moment. "But what about retrieving the weapon? What about Chancellor Kemble? What'll he do if you go back to him empty-handed?"
Devyn's gaze drifted back down to the ground, hands clenching and unclenching in her usual manner of fidgeting. "I... I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm done letting that cruel man control my life." She felt a swell of confidence and shut her eyes, taking a breath. "Kemble has done nothing but toss me around, like a cat batting around a mouse. He's so willing to have me sacrificed for his own personal gain; I mean nothing to him. And... And if what you said earlier is right, then... Well, I'm worth more than the way he treats me." A hint of a grim smile twitched its way onto her lips. For once, Devyn was finally sure of something. "He doesn't deserve my help anymore. I'm done working for him."
She hesitated only a moment, watching for Aneira's expression, before standing and turning to the dais behind them. Devyn slid her sword from its sheath at her side. While it wasn't much different from the weapon she had nearly used to kill Aneira, this one was familiar; it was comfortable in her hand. She brushed her thumb gently across its handle as she adjusted her hold, then lunged forward and struck the bowl fixed to the top of the altar.
From the corner of her eye, Devyn saw Aneira leap to her feet in surprise. She didn't turn, gritting her teeth and striking the stone dish again. Nothing happened visibly, though she did hear a low grating sound as the bowl shifted slightly. She repeated the action again. Then twice. Then three times, until, finally: the stone bowl unevenly split down the middle, one piece sliding from the top of the altar altogether and hitting the upmost stone step with a resounding crack. Devyn stepped back, so shaky from adrenaline that she nearly dropped her own sword, and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Aneira stumbled forward, as if to reach out to calm her down, but Devyn stepped toward the dais again. She hacked at the remnants of the stone dish until they were nothing but shards, and then she brushed them all off the platform. Eventually, she knew, they'd disappear beneath the dirt completely, and nothing would remain to hint at the bloody endeavor required to release the weapon.
When Devyn finally slid back again, struggling to slip her sword back into its sheath with trembling hands, Aneira was there waiting for her. The blonde girl said nothing; she just offered Devyn a hand. The dark-haired girl hesitated, then took it, squeezing hard. Aneira squeezed back with the same strength, and the pair started their way back to the path that would lead them down the mountain and away from this nightmare.