by D. E. Morris
“Of course,” Lilia said, laughter on her lips as they all began to pour down the steps to surround her. “You can touch them,” she told a girl who seemed reluctant. “Some Volarim have fragile, flimsy wings, but mine are quite sturdy.”
“I like how they change colors in the light,” said another girl, unafraid to pull one of Lilia's wings out to examine the pinions.
“You think they are black, but they are not!” said yet another.
A girl who looked to be no older than seven stood in front of Lilia and asked, “Are your breasts yellow?”
Lilia clutched at the neckline of her dress, her eyes widening. “What? Of course not!”
Chuckling, Rhiamon put her hands on the girl's shoulders. “Only the wings of their spirit creature remain when a Volar shifts into their human form, and they can even put those away, should they choose.” With an amused look of apology to Lilia, she added, “Well, when I run out of lesson plans, I know what subject to turn to next.”
“It's fine,” Lilia told her, laughing as well.
“All right, class, we will end early for today. Run along now.”
They all began filtering away, saying goodbye to both women individually. When they were alone, Rhiamon began picking up some of the supplies she had laid out on a table beside her for her class. “Thank you for humoring me. As I said before, we do not see many of your people here and I thought it would be a treat for them.”
“They're lovely,” Lilia admitted. “I'm not really a fan of younger children myself, but the older ones, the ages that are in your class are my favorite. Rowan was that age when I met her, but she was a bit more...untamed than they were.”
“And will likely remain so, from what I have seen,” Rhiamon commented with a smirk.
Lilia looked at the cards, the balls, the mirrors and the various other items that were being put away, a line forming between her brows. “What are all of these things?”
“These are some of the tools we use for divination. The children in my class today are of the age where they are beginning to come into an understanding of their gifts and abilities. They need to choose a path to follow, and we are in the middle of a series on gifts. Today's was about divination.” The wrinkle in Lilia's brow deepened, which appeared to amuse Rhiamon. “You either do not understand what divination is, or you do not agree with it. Perhaps it is both.”
“It's magic.”
“Yes.”
Lilia lifted her eyes from the table to meet Rhiamon's even gaze. “It is magic that the scriptures say is wrong. Specifically.”
Rhiamon gave a delicate sigh. “Wrong meaning sin. You followers of the Deliverer and your sin. How tiresome it must be to carry that burden with you everywhere you go, knowing you will never be able to escape it.”
“It's quite freeing, actually,” Lilia argued, handing Rhiamon a red crystal she was reaching for. “We know that we will never be perfect because only the Giver was perfect while He was here on this planet, but that doesn't mean that we don't strive for perfection still. Do you not believe in Him at all? Do you truly not believe that He died for your sins?” It was something she had believed in since she was a small child. There were days and even periods of time when she wrestled with her faith, but there had never been a time when Lilia doubted the Giver's existence or what He had done for her.
“I have no sins, my child, and neither do you.” Rhiamon straightened and looked upon her with a kind smile. “What you have is human nature and guilt taught to you by an oppressive church who seeks to control through the monarchies of the ruling nations, nothing more. I am afraid you have been misled like thousands of others.” She scanned the rest of the items beside her, the things that she had yet to collect. “Once upon a time, this used to be the only magic in the world. It was never frowned upon until your Giver – your Great Dragon - came with His crazy, fanatical claims of being the one true God.”
Lilia felt herself smiling, rising to the challenge she heard in Rhiamon's voice. “I know your beliefs as well. Tell me which of us is more foolish: the one who believes in someone who healed the sick and raised the dead, who worships a God she can neither see nor touch but knows in her heart is there, or the one who believes that she can read the future in tea leaves and learn of the past from the spirits of her ancestors, who worships the Element of Malevolence, the very nature of ill-will toward and against all living things on this planet?”
Rhiamon's cordial expression shadowed. “You speak of things you do not fully understand.”
Undeterred, Lilia lifted one shoulder on half a shrug. “So do you.”
“What can you show me of your God? What proof have you of His existence, this Almighty Giver you love so much?” Before Lilia could answer, Rhiamon closed the distance between them and peered down into Lilia's face, her blue eyes bright and intense. “Let me show you what I know about mine.” Gentle, she pressed her hand to the side of Lilia's cheek as though to caress her. Before Lilia knew what was happening, her senses were flooded and she was no longer in her body.
The mountains around her were on fire and she was floating high above them. Smoke billowed all around her, thick and black, heavy with ash as trees blazed like torches in the middle of the morning. Dragons bigger than she'd ever seen battled with each other, rolling in the air and tossing one another down. They crashed into the ground below with such force that she felt her own bones rattling even though she was far from the surface of the earth. Their trumpeting cries were ferocious and angry, feral and full of desperation. They were a tangle of limbs and wings, sharp teeth and talons. As Lilia watched, she realized all of them were a different color and none of them had the same body type. Though it was hard to keep track as they all tumbled over one another, she managed to make out that there were twelve of them, and they weren't fighting each other, it was eleven against one.
“Elementals,” she heard herself say, though her voice sounded as though it was far behind her somewhere. She wanted to turn to look for it, to look for herself, but the vision wouldn't allow her to move.
“You are seeing them as they were created,” Rhiamon confirmed.
“They're all fighting against the one? Why? Is that Darkness?”
“No. Pay attention.” Lilia watched, uncomfortable. She didn't even like watching the cats in the castle fight. This was a hundred times worse. The great beasts snapped at each other, tearing off scales and ripping through muscle underneath as though it were no hard task at all, blood pouring down in a gruesome shower below. Then she saw it, the smaller black dragon who was almost no dragon at all when it moved, more of a shadow. Its scales shimmered in the sunlight the way her own wings did, catching and refracting it back in muted beams of navy blue, violet and fuchsia. “You see him now,” said Rhiamon. “Darkness is attacking the black dragon as well.”
“Then that's...it must be...” She paused again, waiting, paying attention. Near the black dragon, closest to it was a white dragon. It could have been Light or Air, but Lilia waited, looking for the other two. She found Light first, the way its pale iridescent blue-green scales were almost too bright too look at, then Air with its long snake-like body and muted gray scales. The two at the center of all the chaos were pure, untouched by any other colors, no iridescence to them at all. “Benevolence and Malevolence.”
The scene moved closer, or they moved closer to it, she couldn't be sure, and the other two dragons peeled away as though to give the invisible spectators a better view. Malevolence was terrifying, his body looking frail and made of little more than bone and thin muscle, but he had a death grip on Benevolence. His maw full of rows of uneven dagger teeth were locked around the white dragon's neck, forelegs wrapped around its torso while his back legs were curled up and kicking, scraping along the white dragon's stomach and leaving it in shreds.
“Stop!” Lilia cried, helpless to watch Malevolence release its opposite. Benevolence tumbled to the ground far below and fell in a heap, crushing burning trees beneath its broken and
bloody form. “I don't want to see anymore!”
“This is history,” Rhiamon told her. “This is truth, not your scriptures. Watch and learn.”
Six of the Elementals hovered over Benevolence while four others bellowed their rage and threw themselves at Malevolence. “It was a great battle, one that lasted for days and destroyed many lands. Malevolence tried to make the others see that they should take their places among the heavens as the gods they were created to be, to take the power that the people of the earth were freely offering to them, but the others called him power hungry. He grew stronger from adoration and the other Elementals feared what he was capable of doing so they decided to overthrow him, to strip him of his power. What they did not realize was that he had grown mighty on his own, that his strength not only outweighed that of most of the others, but his own opposite Elemental. He threw Benevolence down that day, crushed, defeated, and powerless. He sealed her away where no one would ever find her.” As Lilia watched, the vision of the white dragon faded away, leaving the six dragons guarding nothing but the remnants of a burned land below them.
“The seasonal Elementals were second in ranks of power and banded together, thinking as one, they could certainly defeat Malevolence.”
The black dragon waited until he was surrounded by them on four sides: a glittering icy blue dragon with a shimmering cloud of snow falling around it, a blazing orange dragon with fiery wings, a pale green dragon covered in moss and flower buds, and a bright green dragon whose scales looked more like grass. In the middle of all of them, the black dragon threw his head back and made a thundering noise from deep within his center. It radiated outward from him in a concussive sound wave that was invisible, but its effects were immediately noticed. All four dragons curled in on themselves, crying out and twitching as though their insides were being torn from them. They fell like stones, their bodies changing shape and color, making them look like normal Gaels as they descended. The remaining six caught their kin before they could fall too far, but the anger with which they had watched Malevolence before now turned to fear, and the black dragon fed upon it.
As Lilia watched, the Gaels that had been the seasons faded away just as Benevolence had moments ago. As they slunk away, even their shapes and colors changed to ones more familiar to those of the six Elementals she knew all too well.
“Malevolence let them go but took away most of their powers,” Rhiamon told her.
Lilia looked up at the black dragon. Somehow, he seemed so much bigger than he had when she'd first entered the vision. “What happened to him?”
“The power he gained that day was for too great an influx in such a short amount of time, and it sent him into a dormancy. He has been slowly regaining himself over the generations.”
The vision fogged and faded like the dragons, and Lilia felt the contents of her stomach churn. She inhaled and opened her eyes, returning to where she had been standing with Rhiamon, and immediately turned to be sick behind a bush. The older woman held back Lilia's hair and rubbed her shoulder, but said nothing. When the winged woman heaved again, hot tears stung behind her eyes. “Why did you show that to me?” she cried, accepting the kerchief that was handed to her when she straightened. “You had no right!”
“You come to my home and challenge my beliefs and those of my people. I have every right.” Rhiamon tilted her head. “That is not why you came here, though, I suspect. Angry as you may be with me at the moment, there is a purpose to your being here. Have you and Rowan decided to accept my offer?”
“Hardly,” Lilia drawled. She sat down on a lower tier seat and rubbed her forehead, trying to rid her vision of what she'd just seen. It hurt her heart to see the dragons being so easily defeated as they were. Knowing they were the ancestors of people she cared about made it feel so much more personal. Like last time, it made her want to go home all the more and simply sit with Ashlynn and talk to her. There had been no opportunity for it before, which made her long for it even more now, and yet, there was still work to be done. She knew she had to focus. “I have a friend... more like a sister, really. She was injured some years ago. Bandits attacked her caravan and left her badly scarred. She hasn't been the same since. I told her of this place, of how welcoming it was and she was interested. My mistress granted me permission for something of a longer leave and I brought her to you, remembering the open invitation with which I left. However, the giant you have posted at the gate refused to let us pass and I had to take matters into my own hands.”
Rhiamon looked down in an effort to hide her amusement, but Lilia didn't miss her smirk. “Yes, well, he is only doing his job. For once. Is your friend waiting below?”
“Her name is Mairead, and yes, she is, if she hasn't been boiled in this sun already.”
“I will go and fetch her myself if that will make up for it.”
“No, that won't be necessary.” Lilia stood. “I can-” Head spinning, she promptly fell back to her seat.
“No,” said the older woman soothed, “you cannot. What you have just experienced is draining even for someone as learned as I am. You need to rest. Let me fetch your friend and bring her to you.” She lifted her face to the open area behind the amphitheater. “Fi angen cymorth.” Though her words had not been loud, within moments, two young women came down the steps to take instruction. Each one moved alongside of Lilia. They listened to whatever it was that Rhiamon said to them in their language, supporting the winged girl as they led her back up the stairs and away once more to find rest in the House of Maidens.
~*~*~*~
Mairead was well suited for waiting with nothing to do but watch as the day unfolded around her. She'd spent many months alone in her quarters hiding herself away from people after her carriage had been attacked and her face so badly damaged. She grew accustomed to sitting at the window and staring out for hours with little more than her thoughts and prayers for company. At least here on her boulder she had the sporadic flow of villagers as they moved to and fro. Had Lilia been the one forced to wait for so long, it would have been a different situation entirely. Her patience was much thinner and would have run out quite some time ago.
She watched the man at the gate as he reached up to wipe sweat from his brow and knew how warm he had to have been under his cowl. It was steamy under her veil and she had water to cool her. Though she knew the chances of him speaking to her were slim, she took Lilia's water skin and brought it over to him. He looked down at her, forehead wrinkling as though he wasn't sure what she expected him to do, and she lifted the water skin a little higher. “It is water,” she told him. “It was drawn from the well just this morning and has yet to be unstoppered so it is likely still cold.”
“I'm not going to let you pass.”
A smile narrowed her eyes. “I am not trying to bribe you. It is a hot morning and will grow hotter still. Do you not have water of your own?”
His lips pursed. “I forgot to bring it. I was sent down here last minute as punishment.”
“Please,” Mairead insisted, “take it.”
He was reluctant, but as another bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, he took the water skin and pulled the hood of his cowl down. Mairead watched him as he took the stopper out to drink deeply. His dark blonde hair matted with sweat was cut short, in a fashion that was not common for the Celtique Nations. Sensing her watching him, he paused in his drinking and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.”
His eyes traveled over her before lingering on her veil. “Aren't you warm as well?”
“I can withstand heat better than most.”
Closing the water skin back up, he said, “You don't see many women around here wearing gloves and veils that cover their faces. Is it religion that requires you to be so covered up in summer?”
Quiet laughter escaped her lips and she looked down with a slight shake of her head. “No. Though my faith does require modesty of dress, it is not that modest. This...
” She held up a hand to look at her gloved fingers before touching her veil. “...this is mostly so that I do not scare people away.”
His lips curled into a bit of a smile, a wrinkle of disbelief forming between his brows. “You can't be that ugly. You're too nice.”
She laughed again, louder this time, and shook her head once more. “If only that were true.” He didn't believe her, that much was apparent from the way he watched her with one narrowed eye and half a smirk. She had already made more progress than Lilia had by engaging him in conversation. Her goal was to ingratiate herself with these people enough that they would trust her and let information slip. In order to achieve that goal, she would have to allow herself to be at least a little vulnerable from time to time. Bracing herself for the stranger's reaction, she reached up to undo the clasp at the side of her veil and dropped the gauzy fabric from in front of her face, slowly lifting her head to look up at him.
At first glance, his eyes widened. He fixated on the scarred and puckered skin that had never healed properly on the left side of her face, crossing over her left eye, but his expression softened as he explored the other side of her face, the one that was untouched and unable to hide her uncertainty of the moment. “You were attacked,” he surmised. She nodded and he bent his head to get a closer look at the scars. “Four slashes, two in the middle much deeper. That can only mean dragon or Gael.” She nodded again and he straightened. With a small smile, he told her, “You don't scare me.”
“Derog.”
All of the humor from the young man's face disappeared. It was as though someone had stuck a pole through his spine to make him stand as tall and as straight as he could. As an afterthought, he pulled the hood of his cowl up and shoved the water skin back into Mairead's hands before returning to his statue-like position. Mairead fastened her veil back into place as she turned toward the sound of the voice. A woman with long black hair, olive skin and blue eyes was making her way through the gate and over to where Mairead stood, two younger girls trailing her. She cast a quick, caustic look to the man before turning a welcoming smile to the smaller woman before her.