This is the last proper chapter. There's just the epilogue left. I hope you enjoy reading, to whoever makes it this far~
Please excuse any typos (better still if you can point them out). I was in a real rush to finish this.
And yup. Please leaves comments and all. ^ ^
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Her consciousness emerged into reality. The pain was gone all at once. As Roxanne flexed her fingers, a rush of energy fuelled her, washing away all the lethargy and apprehension from the night before. It felt like as if she’d been submerged in the deep sea and just surfaced, breathing fresh air again.
There was something odd about the atmosphere. Everything was too silent.
Roxanne examined her surroundings cautiously. Prophecy was the first to appear in her vision- she crouched beside Roxanne, fingering her auburn hair. Roxanne leaped back immediately, landing in a defensive stance, gazing back warily.
Prophecy cocked her head to the side, curiosity evident in her eyes. “Who are you?
That took Roxanne by surprise.
Prophecy didn’t remember what happened? What she did? She had forsaken her army in this state – the fearsome battalion of shadows that exploded in front of her eyes just a moment ago?
Roxanne took a step forward tentatively. “What’s your name?”
Her voice was as sweet and angelic as it had been when she stopped talking. It pleased Prophecy. She smiled, baring her teeth, “Sorenya.”
Roxanne returned a disarming smile. Her hand reached out forward as if to touch Prophecy’s shoulder. It shot up and struck the side of her head.
The shot was right on the temple. Prophecy froze and crumpled. Roxanne slowly withdrew her hand. Here she lay sprawled on the ground, a childlike smile on her face, serene. Just hours ago, this very same woman preached passionately about her ideology, one that would subvert the powers of the world and enthral every living and every dead. Just hours ago she had almost singlehandedly brought about the ruin of one kingdom.
So close. Elrtiv had come so close to becoming history.
She had come so close to killing Prophecy with that blow to the head. She’d been so tempted – but at the last moment her hand slowed down and force of the strike was reduced. Prophecy was unconscious, but not dead.
Where is Alzentis?
Roxanne scanned around the room. The extraordinary light had dimmed; the walls were light grey devoid of writing, only now strewn with dried blood, long streaks in some places and patches in others. Here and there the solid walls cracked. Crevices snaked through the ground. Even the ceiling was caved in at some places.
Then she saw him. There in the shadow of Prophecy’s stone throne.
She knelt next to him. He was awfully pallid. There were countless cuts all over his uniform – small cuts, but countless nonetheless. Each one of them dyed a red line on his shirt. On the side of his neck was a hideous deep gash, still bleeding. A pool of blood had formed; the tips of his light hair were tinted crimson. The collar of his shirt was completely soaked with his own blood.
Guilt tormented her insides. Roxanne touched his hand, feeling breathless. It was cold, but she could feel the pulse still. She leaned down and placed her hand over his wound. As she concentrated, green sparks leaped from her fingers and dimmed, forming a layer of jade-coloured mist over the cut. When she removed her hand, the wound had vanished without a trace.
It’s stopped bleeding now, but he’s already lost so much blood. Roxanne’s frown did not ease. The hand that held Alzentis’ tightened and froze. She lifted his hand and turned it over to see the palm. It was covered with blood; most were fresh, but there were darker stains accentuating the lines of his palm.
She took his hand with both of hers, aware of the blood imprinting into the palm of her own hand.
“Alzentis,” she called.
There was no reply.
A little more urgently, “Alzentis Leclair!”
Still there was no answer.
He’d never heard her voice before. Perhaps he didn’t know it was her?
“Alzentis, I’m Roxanne. Alzentis…”
~~~
A soft tap on her shoulder.
Roxanne’s reflex action was to grab the hand on her shoulder. She kept her grip and turned, her legs moving to a low crouch. Her eyes trailed up: long blond hair cascading down to the waist, passionate green eyes tinged with sorrow.
Roxanne let go immediately and rose to a stand. For a moment she simply gazed at the comer without any gesture of recognition. Now sober and smartly dressed, she resembled more of her twin sister than the drunken young woman staggering in the alleyway last night.
“Roxanne Taylor. You have relinquished your silence?”
Slowly Roxanne kneeled down and bowed her head, folding her arms in the way that the highest form of etiquette in the mages’ world required. “Yes, Goddess Jaistyr.”
The goddess’ expression shifted a little. “So you recognise me?”
Roxanne’s eyes darted upward for a second, undetected by Jaistyr as her head was kept low. So Jaistyr didn’t remember seeing her yesterday? The Governor of Future had poor recollection of the past, she thought cynically. If so, there was no need for a reminder. She had been impertinent enough already to not acknowledge an Eraine upon first sight. “Yes. I have had audience with Queen Ivyainze, and I had been informed that Your Highness and Her Majesty appear identical.”
Jaistyr took her time. “Your powers originate from me, Roxanne,” she said quietly. “I can sense it whenever you exercise your power. Since you combined the power of both lines of Speakers of Fate, the strength of the connection between you and I are twice as strong as that which connects me to any other Speaker in history.”
Jaistyr still didn’t let her stand.
“To tell you the truth, I regretted ever letting mortals possess that power. Your kind is too susceptible to the evil of your own desires. I had considered withdrawing your power when you first received it, but I decided that I would not, when your mother had sealed it. Your mother was a wise woman, Roxanne. You should remember her words.”
You don’t want e to speak again, is that it? You want me forever silenced? Now she hadn’t only Selena’s promise to keep, Elrtiv and Iskeryl’s political intentions to consider, but also an Eraine’s will imposed on her. Roxanne rose to her feet without permission.
“Your Highness may remove my power at this moment, or trust that I will wield it sensibly.”
The goddess turned her head away as if acquiesced to this answer. She didn’t speak another word to Roxanne, and kneeled down next to Alzentis where Roxanne’s place had been.
Her hand stroke his forehead softly, her voice tender and songlike. “Half to give, lost hands of time…” Jaistyr heaved an inaudible sigh. “If I knew what this meant, Lassirysta’s Prophecy would never have been…”
Jaistyr’s gentle tone began to overlap with Prophecy’s fervent one. “Half to give, lost hands of time, final decree of Fate delivered in Aquila’s light.” Was she quoting the Prophecy?
“Your Highness,” Roxanne kneeled down on the other side and tried not to stare at the Alzentis’ blood. Her light aquamarine eyes seemed alight with the fiery colour. “How is Alzentis connected to the Prophecy? Will he… live?”
Jaistyr did not reply for a long while. When Roxanne raised her head, she was surprised to find the goddess’ eyes brimming with tears. “Alzentis’ sacrifice is inevitable. The Prophecy says so. He is that half of the lost hands of time – that half that must be surrendered.”
Roxanne shook her head lightly. She did not understand still.
“Alzentis is my nephew,” Jaistyr breathed, “his mother was my youngest sister, Letryce, who had power over space and time. When she died, as per tradition, her oldest child inherits her influence over these elements. Together with Kaizlin, they’re the ‘hands of time’. Since their existence is never announced, one can consider them as a ‘lost’ lineage.”
Letryce? An Eraine that the world had never known to exist?
A blurry memory came to mind. A dream, to be exact – and the memory was not hers.
One early spring, under the shade of a swaying willow, two girls sat at a table of cold gray stone. Two others stood by the tree observing. A tawny hair girl skipped toward them.
“How are you, Lee?” the tawny girl cocked her head to one side.
“Haylins hijacked a helicopter without turbines,” Lee said.
When two accidents took place, Lee was the first to react. “Take care of Jaistyr’s car please, Ivyainze. I’ll deal with the helicopter with Haylins.”
When the bet came to an end. “Hands up those in favour of Haylins as the winner.”
It was she who spoke against the idea of granting Jaistyr’s power to mortals.
And it was she who appointed the first two Speakers of Fate. “Lady Taylia and Lady Kallies.”
Roxanne had never paid serious thought to the details of this dream. Even if it was a message, it would have been to simply inform her of the origin of the Speakers’ powers. She had never questioned why there was a fifth girl among the four Eraines.
That fifth girl… It was Letryce? Alzentis’ mother? As her son, Alzentis must die?
Roxanne gazed straight at Jaistyr. Neither her eyes nor her voice wavered. “Alzentis will live through this, and so will Kaizlin. The Prophecy will be realised in another way.”
If she said so, it would be true. She was a Speaker.
To her surprise, the slightest smile appeared on Jaistyr’s face. “If you say so, it will come true. Every word of a Speaker of Fate becomes reality. My words only come true when I will them. Fortunately I have spoken nothing against that.” She took Alzentis’ hand and squeezed it once. “Khea will take care of him, I’m sure. She’d always been the best at healing.”
Roxanne’s gaze lingered on Alzentis for one more moment before she rose. Yes, he required attention from Goddess Khea, his own aunt and the best healer in all of Seerance. She could not follow him to her.
Instead, she watched Jaistyr make her way to the other side of the room. The goddess crouched down next to the unconscious figure at her feet, her elegant dress spilling on the ground. She was speaking to Prophecy in a sort of fast monologue, but Roxanne caught one word – “Sorenya”, Prophecy’s real name.
By this time Roxanne had no hesitation to ask her last question. She approached Jaistyr cautiously. “Yesterday, I was told that I also had a place in the Prophecy, and that reason is linked with my name.”
Jaistyr raised her gaze. “That will be the line after Alzentis and Kaizlin’s. ‘Final decree of Fate delivered in Aquila’s light.’ You’re born Aquila-Rose, Roxanne. Your father liked the name Aquila – the constellation, and the eagle. He thought his daughter would possess such spirit, and he is quite right. Your mother, on the other hand, preferred the gentle name Rose. That is why she always called you Rosy.”
Roxanne almost jumped with a start. “You know my father?”
“Yes, Roxanne. He is Xavier Kzalite, King of Iskeryl. Your mother was his only queen. Now I think you should go back up. The sun has risen – you’ll find Melia and her friend waiting for you there. And the magic ward is broken, so feel free to teleport. Leave the rest to me.”