Mageia jerked awake, gasping for air. She sat up, grasping at her neck and clenching the soft cushion she sat on. The pain in her arms brought shivers throughout her body until they slowly subsided to throbbing. She squeezed her eyes closed, as if it would erase everything that had happened to her and the fact that she was a Fairest.
"Great gods," someone said.
Startled, she opened her eyes to a man standing at the edge of her bed with a journal. By his plain green attire, the symbols of the Priesthood, and his crossed eyes, she figured he was a temple slave. A woman in the gray dress of a nurse stood across the room beside a long table of infirmary supplies. The slave's eyes shifted to Mageia's right. She followed his gaze, and the anger she felt in the Serene stirred alive in her soul again. Sitting in a chair beside a lit fireplace was the High Priest of Ardania, Lord Hercones. The old man's jaw hung open, and for a minute, everyone was speechless.
Then the High Priest stood to his feet. "Nurse, go and send for Prince Grisonce immediately."
Why wasn't he here? She wondered, watching the nurse dash from the room, leaving the door open. From where she sat, two soldiers dressed in temple designed armor stood in the hall. One peeked inside and did a double look at her before shifting away to the side. Mageia hated feeling trapped and felt herself beneath the covers. Someone had put her in a dress. Though she would be barefoot, she had to prepare to run or fight to leave this room if necessary.
Lord Hercones cautiously approached, reclaiming her attention. "Lady Mageia. Are you still Mageia Unknown?"
Mageia swallowed, but her throat was too dry. "I need water."
Lord Hercones gestured to the temple slave, who scurried to the table for the pitcher and cups. Once he prepared it and gave Mageia the cup of water, she drank it all and gestured for more. The slave obeyed, and this time she took sips.
"Do you know who I am?"
She closed her eyes until the throbbing in her arms and body subsided enough to be bearable. A nod followed, and the anger in her soul sparked. She reopened her eyes and glared at the old man, who needed a solid punch in the face. The color of his wrinkled skin flushed.
"My lady?"
"You killed me," she said. Her memories of the horrific sacrifice and the excruciating pain flooded into her all at once. Tears swelled in her eyes and began to flow down her cheeks.
The old man's thin lips parted, not knowing what to say. "Forgive me," came from him.
The sincerity of his response fought against her anger. She hated him. No. She wanted to hate him. Something about the new power awakened inside her now interfered with her emotions, and it confused her. No, it bothered her greatly because, without the power, she would've thrown the cup of water into the man's face.
"I hate you," she forced out before the rage totally disappeared.
"I know," the High Priest resigned. His watery eyes turned red, and a few tears leaked down his cheeks. He clasped his hands together and shook his head. "You'd think, after years of studying in the Priesthood, I would see the obvious. At least notice it. It took Prince Grisonce and his heart, untouched by our Fair ways, to see you. How you ended up here in Ardania, of all kingdoms, it baffles me."
Mageia laid back against the headboard and diverted her gaze into the remaining water in her cup.
"I am a fool," the High Priest muttered, unable to look at her. The temple slave sniffled and dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.
She opened her right hand and noticed the new mark blending into the lines of her palm. Her left hand possessed it too.
The High Priest gave a short gasp. "Gods above."
Mageia didn't know what to say or do. One thing she did know, she wanted to leave. She wanted to climb out the bed, find some shoes, a cloak, possibly a horse, and make the long journey home. She wanted Dean. Her heart longed to hug him and her family. She handed the cup to the temple slave and slowly removed the covers to free her legs.
"Please, my lady, you should rest. You've been through so much," the High Priest advised.
"Where am I?"
"The Royal Infirmary."
She scuffed. "I cannot leave this place for the life of me. Can I leave?"
I need to see my family, she wanted to say. Though her new power could sense this man's sincere heart seeking forgiveness. Mentally, she could not trust him.
"Yes. You are free to do whatever you want," the High Priest said, his gray bushy eyebrows bouncing. "But do you not want to see Grisonce?"
She paused with one leg dangling from the bed. What would he say? What would he think?
She knew the moment her eyes fell on the prince, she would have to say, You were right. It amazed her to see how some stranger figured out what she was instead of her parents disclosing it or figuring it out on her own. Having purple eyes never bothered her before, but now it unnerved her. Like in the Serene, she felt stupid and partly ashamed.
"Yes," she whispered.
You can tell anyone your heart trusts, Dawnis had said.
"The entire realm witnessed what happened tonight," the High Priest said. "It was a terribly great sight to behold."
"What happened?" Contagious was the nature of curiosity, and it conquered her entirely.
She watched the old man's face change into many expressions before it rested on a wearisome smile. "As you were dying, the night sky moved. Your scream of agony echoed, causing us to shield our ears. The earth quaked and there was this wind...a wind of-of power...of change; that swept across the kingdom. The other Sacreds, they died, but your stake remained alive in purple flames, you sitting within it."
"Sitting?"
"Yes. Oh, Lady Mageia, we returned to the infirmary with you and discovered that many marked Strange were healed. Healed head to foot from internal ailments. Even some Fairs—like myself—with aches and pains were healed. Those with physical deformities and scars remained the same. We assume physical ailments cannot be fixed because our appearances express our identity, whether birthed with it or obtained. What does this mean? I do not know."
She felt relieved—somewhat proud—to have Strange people healed, but it didn't sit well with her that her death also helped the most delusional Fairs.
"Everyone is Fair and Strange," the temple slave chimed in, as if he was sure of the answer.
They stared at him for a minute to process his words. His cheeks grew red, and he dropped his gaze to his open journal as if preparing himself to be scolded.
"You are right," the High Priest agreed, fresh tears filling his eyes. The temple slave blinked in shock and smiled. "Even in my old age, I can be enlightened."
Deep down, Mageia fought the urge to hug both men. For eras, Ardania oppressed so many Strange, and to see one of the most elite of Fairs agree with a Strange's brave statement made her happy. Dying had done something to her. It had to be the magic, or maybe it was her heart that, for so long, needed some unknown assurance that people could change. She soaked this moment in, as if it would disappear forever.
"I forgive you," she found herself saying. She didn't know where it came from, but she definitely knew why.
Lord Hercones smiled, but he shook his head as if internally, he didn't think he was worth forgiveness. "Thank you."
Mageia stared at the old man and couldn't stop the tears from escaping her eyes.
The temple slave found his voice again. "Will you tell us, what happened when you died?"
Mageia nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment. She didn't want to tell them, but her heart said, It's okay. You are safe here.
"I appeared in the Serene within the Hall of Diviine Thrones."
"Baron, write this down, please," the High Priest ordered, and the slave quickly obeyed.
Mageia didn't care. She shifted into a comfortable position on the bed and rubbed her trembling hands, happy to tell someone what had happened. She wished Grisonce would hurry, but relief washed over her as she spoke. She closed her eyes and saw the faces of the Sacred Six, their transformations, and the conversations exchanged.
"The Sacred Six merged with a Diviine, who became their physical hosts. Mesori and Rasaal are very evil and have caused great mischief in the Serene. I could feel their evil and witnessed it. They wanted to hurt me. They hated me."
"Does this mean the other gods are good?"
"I don't know for sure. But Naphri hates Mesori and Rasaal. Danala was confused that Tiivon Lariius hadn't appeared and Sakon didn't really care about what was happening."
"Tiivon Lariius? The Vanished King?" the temple servant asked.
"Yes. He was also a Fairest," Mageia said. "Dawnis, he's not a terrible god to fear. His heart is kind and pure. He wants peace again. I could feel it. There's a war between them, though, because of the imbalance of magic."
"Why is that?" Lord Hercones inquired.
"When Tiivon Lariius vanished, it caused an imbalance of power within the Serene. It's growing worse; I could feel it."
"Wow," Baron whispered, writing ferociously.
"That will be something to teach others," the High Priest advised. "Did anything else happen?"
Mageia knew the information exchanged between her and Dawnis didn't need to be disclosed, especially to them. She shook her head.
"Just me asking questions and Dawnis answering them while the others argued. I'm still confused and..." Mageia trailed off, not wanting to tell them how she truly felt about everything.
"And what of our prayers and sacrifices?"
Mageia licked her dry lips and rubbed her stomach, growling for food. "The imbalance of magic within the Starliin has prevented many prayers from entering the Serene, as well as souls who have died. Many are trapped within the Starliin, and it's because of Tiivon Lariius' decision to disappear."
"Why did he disappear?"
Mageia shrugged. "They don't know. But Dawnis assumed he and the Ordained discovered something awful, possibly dealing with Mesori and Rasaal."
"The Ordained? They are real?" The High Priest gasped in shock.
"Yes," Mageia said with a closed smile. "Like the rumors the Blesseds preach, they were special people who were anointed and transformed into gods. They were actually Fairests. My parents spoke of this before, and now I have clarity. They are known as—,"
"Fairests of Old," Lord Hercones injected with a sad nod of his head. "Damn me, forgetting my old studies. Prince Grisonce will be returning the Book of Legends to me so I can freshen my memory and teach the other priests. Are they to be worshiped?"
"I don't know. All I know is that they're important in balancing magic and power," Mageia responded.
"As Hamino's Promise proclaims," Baron added.
"Exactly." A smile stretched across the old man's face.
The nurse rushed back in with fear and concern. "I sent for the prince, but you will not believe what's going on out there."
"What is it? Speak, woman," the High Priest implored, gesturing impatiently.
"A fire has erupted in the East Wing."
"A fire? Great gods above," the High Priest mumbled.
"The infirmary is crowding again, but this time with Strange from the slave quarters."
"Oh no, Grisonce." Mageia sat up straight. "His quarters are in that wing."
"Fireguards and any abled hand are headed for there now," the nurse explained, approaching the bed. "Master Joras is now very busy, but he asked me to do a quick check on you. Will that be okay, my lady?"
"Go ahead, but I feel fine." Mageia's mind was glued on the prince's well-being. She prayed he was okay, hoping the gods weren't too busy fighting to hear it.
"So, did Dawnis, or any of the gods, give any words for the realm?" Lord Hercones continued as Mageia allowed the smiling nurse to check her eyes, her hands, the markings, and even her pulse.
"We should stop executing people, especially under the idea of sacrificing them for atonements," Mageia said. "The gods don't know what's happening on Valeera, and most of them do not care."
"Damn," Baron muttered. Mageia smirked, shocked by the temple slave's boldness.
"Do you know what your markings mean?" Lord Hercones said, indicating her hands.
Mageia stared at her palms and frowned. "They're identifying me, I suppose."
I will have to wear gloves for the rest of my life, she thought.
"As both a Fairest and of a Royal line?"
Mageia narrowed her eyes and studied the old man. "What do you mean?"
"I am finished, my lady," the nurse said, then went to meddle with things on the side table.
"You are a Lariius, are you not? Your birthmark behind your neck expresses such," he whispered.
Her heart caved in until she remembered what she already knew. She wondered if this would be the best time to tell the truth.
"I am not a Lariius. I am a Seviine," she said. "That's the surname of my parents."
The two men exchanged confused expressions. "I don't understand. Are you sure? Who were your parents?"
"Egar and Valasia Seviine."
"Seviine? That name sounds familiar," the old man said, brows clashing in wonder.
"They were Mankiinean descendants. Apparently, full-blooded because it didn't sit well with many of the Diviines."
"I suppose so." The High Priest's eyes were wide with certainty. "That is something Ardania does not mind teaching in the temples. How every being was created by and for a specific Diviine. Mankiineans were of Hamino, the Old God. And these beings were around even before the creation of Valeera."
"But were they not extinct eras ago, my Lord?" Baron asked.
Lord Hercones fell deep into thought and rubbed his long sharp graybeard. "That is something rumored, said to be fact. However, there is no such thing as a race of beings becoming extinct. Their blood is our blood. Even surnames can live forever. My lady, your parents were not Royals or of any Royal status?"
"I don't know...." Mageia said.
"Would you mind if I, and possibly, Grisonce, study this matter?"
"Sure," Mageia said, then rubbed her churning belly. "I feel who I am will not be a secret for too long." After a short moment of silence to allow the information to process, Mageia glanced at the door. "I would really like to speak to Grisonce."
"He's probably dealing with his slaves and the fire," the High Priest said.
Mageia clung to the blanket. "I still cannot believe this is happening to me."
"I bet you are afraid. You've probably been powerless your whole life, and within a few hours, you've become the most powerful person in the world."
"What if I can't do this?" she asked, wishing she hadn't voiced the concern, but it felt needed.
"Oh, child." Lord Hercones gestured for the slave to stop writing. Baron nodded and closed his journal. He gestured for her hand. His warm, inviting hands felt grandfatherly as they gave a comforting squeeze. "May I give you wise words?"
The very question brought a strong memory to mind. Her stepfather, Leon Holt, would say this when they had moments alone. She would give him her full attention, curious and innocent, and unknowing that some years later, he'd be gone. She nodded to the old priest and held back a wave of grief.
"Magic has a mind of its own. I doubt even the gods understand it. It is pure and holy and unquestionably knowing," he said. She smiled, realizing how strongly similar his words were to Dawnis'. She glanced at the fire in the fireplace and wondered if Dawnis was trying his hardest to reach her right now.
"This means one thing," the High Priest continued. He peered into her eyes. "It knows what it's doing, and we are only pawns to fulfill many purposes in its plans. You may not want to accept your power now, but do not deny it. Magic—which is Hamino—must believe you deserve it."
"But I don't know if I can be–if I can be ... this," she sighed.
"I see. Remember this, Lady Mageia. Yes, you are a Fairest. You've been since birth. But you do not have to be a Fairest right now."
"I don't understand."
"Just be as you are, here, in this moment. And as time passes, you will learn, and experience many things, and grow into the Fairest you are destined to be. I doubt it took the other Fairests a day to walk in their greatness. It possibly took their entire lives."
His words touched her heart, and she felt a new wave of relief that brought tears to her eyes. She turned away and sniffled, hating others seeing her cry. The High Priest revealed, from his robe, a freshly folded handkerchief and handed it to her.
"Try not to worry yourself, my lady. Take this a day at a time, and if you haven't grown tired of my voice, my door is always open. And, of course, Grisonce's is too."
"Thank you, my lord," Mageia said.
Sniffles caught their attention. They looked at the nurse who stood dabbing her own eyes with a handkerchief.
"Are you okay?" Mageia asked.
"Oh, gods. Forgive me for my prejudice against the Strange. If the gods do not care about what's happening in this kingdom, then I suppose the Fair are not as important as we've believed."
"Yes, my lady," the High Priest said. "We've all received a wake-up call tonight. I only hope it has touched the most stubborn amongst us."
The nurse bobbed her head and wiped away a tear. "I am so happy."
Thumping sounds arose within the hall. Two temple soldiers close to the door began choking and seizing in distress. They strained for air and stumbled out of view before dropping to the floor. Mageia's hairs stood along her arms.
"Oh, my god," the nurse muttered. She walked towards the door to check on the soldiers, and a dark figure appeared in the doorway. She halted in her tracks and gasped in start, hand pressing to her chest. A hissing laugh echoed about the room, and the figure's arm slashed at the frozen nurse. The woman squealed for a hot second, clasping her neck. She spun to run, eyes wide in horror as blood squirted from her neck and flowed down her chest. The nurse dropped to the floor, croaking for air, and the stench of blood took the room.
Mageia had no time to scream or react. She only froze in shock.
The figure, fully dressed in a Hiilaan uniform with a bloody dagger in his hand, entered. Mageia instantly recognized him and his bright blue eyes and that dark grin.
"Sii?" He was the same soldier who spoke to Eron and stopped his interrogation in the Doomed.
He gasped with insane joy. "You remember me?"
Mageia shot into action, threw the cover off, and turned to jump out of the bed.
"No, no, beautiful," Sii said as his shadow on the floor came to life. Swift as a fly in flight, it grabbed her feet and ankles, and a deadly chill crawled up her body. It locked her in place and set her off balance. She halfway grabbed the bed to keep from falling.
Another soldier, his companion, entered and unsheathed his sword.
"What is the meaning of this?" Lord Hercones asked.
"Kill them," Sii ordered with excitement in his voice.
"No! Don't!" Mageia shouted, but the silent soldier slipped across the room like a shadow. The slave revealed a tiny knife from within his sleeve and stood in a defensive mode. But he was no match for the sword. He went down fast, then the old man was slashed across his torso. He dropped with a grunt.
"No!" Mageia cried, watching the floor stain with blood.
Something sharp lodged into the side of her neck. She pulled the sharp object from her neck. A dart, small and now dipped in her blood. Her head grew light, and the room spun. Her heart picked up in speed. Sii lowered a wooden pipe, then stepped over the nurse to approach her.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, staring at the old man croaking for air. She grabbed the old man's handkerchief lying on the bed and clutched it for dear life.
"He needed to retire anyway," Sii hissed.
"Please, don't kill me," she begged, feeling the icy grip on her feet release.
The world blurred in and out, and her muscles grew stiff and weak. Sii grabbed onto her and grinned into her face.
"Oh, no. Never! We're going on a little trip," he said. His companion came to help him.
Heart pounding wildly in her ears, she fought their hands, but they were strong, and her muscles grew weak and numb. Her tongue swelled in her mouth, disabling her screams for help. Her magic stirred, frantic to bring aid, but the poison forced it to settle down. They easily carried her from the room, down the back hall, and out the rear door.
A/N
No Sii! Bad Sii!
What do you think about Sii? Do you like his character or not?
I must say, I enjoyed writing this chapter. Even I don't know what to make of Lord Hercones. Do you feel sorry for the old man?
The image is a close resemblance to what Mageia's infirmary room looked like, but without the high bed post and the door is in front of the foot of the bed. Either way, me love finding pictures to coincide with these chapters.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! Please give your comments and votes. They are much appreciated. Let's continue this journey shall we!!!
From LeQuita