The Spirit of the Realm

by Rachel L Brown

  Anya laughed, the sound was more like a shriek and the rune in Sade’s hand glowed bright. She dropped it as the heat became unbearable, a red mark from the fire rune had been left on her palm.

  “You-”

  Anya’s head turned at the sound of a low whistle. Henry walked out from behind a shrine. His red hair looked like fire and his cloak glowed a soft green. As he moved closer, Sade could see his eyes were bright with the divine magic of the Goddess of Spring.

  “This does not concern you Goddess of Spring!” Anya snarled and Henry smiled. It wasn’t his usual smile, it was softer.

  “I think it does, why are you scaring the poor child? Let her go like the rest, she will find her way,” Henry said. His calm expression faltered when he noticed Dirna and Hemdrill, still frozen in place. He waved his hand and they whirled around to face Anya.

  “Vestral Anya, by the power of the oath you swore to control the Goddess of Fates magic. I implore you to shut this down now!” Dirna shouted, a fog with swirls of black and white had surrounded her. She held up the rune of containment, a stream of gold and silver light danced around Anya. After what felt like ages, the air lightened and the divine presence left Anya. Hemdrill caught her when she fainted.

  “I will take her to the Goddess of Healing’s shrine and make sure she is fully contained,” he said.

  Sade watched him escort her away, once she was sure she wasn’t going to be attacked. She scrambled to her feet and straightened her cloak. The burn on her palm sent waves of pain through her. She tugged out a healing rune and let the magic run its course.

  “Are you all right?” Henry asked.

  “I’m fine, what are you doing out here?”

  Henry glanced over at the crowd of pilgrims huddled together, they were watching them like hawks. It was then Sade noticed the other Vestrals standing in front of them with protection runes. After a sharp word from Dirna they herded the crowd back to their lines.

  “Ah, you know making sure the faithful didn’t get evaporated by the Goddess of Fates.”

  Dirna cleared her throat and Sade turned to her.

  “Vestral Sade, are you sure you do not want to attune to another God? You are in shock, and I think some time to think this over would do you good.”

  Sade nodded. “I’m sure.”

  Dirna sighed and held a rune of fetching. The runes in Sade’s pouch emptied themselves flying into the air and hovering around Dirna.

  “Then as the Head Vestral of the Temple of Plainspire. I strip you of the right to use magic and the right to enchant. You are barred from entering any shrines. You are not to call yourself a Vestral nor offer any advice on behalf of the Gods,” Dirna waved her hand, and the runes disintegrated. “If you violate any of these charges, the penalty is death.”

  “What are you doing!” Henry exclaimed as the rune’s on Sade’s cloak faded away and the enchantments on it drained.

  Sade ignored him as she narrowed her eyes at Dirna.

  “The God of Justice and Mercy will return, and I swear he will take revenge on all those who dare believe he is dead,” Sade said and brushed past her. Dirna reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “Vestral Sade, despite what you think, I am not a monster, nor do I wish ill on your God. If the God of Justice returns, you may return in service to him. The God of Justice’s divine rune is still in your pouch. You don’t have to leave; you can help our temple with other tasks and not wander the kingdom like a destitute.”

  Sade yanked her arm back. “I will not stay in a place where I am no longer welcome.”

  With that she stormed away. She would gather her things and try to find the other cast out Vestrals. She was going to find answers.

  4

  A Fish Enters A Viper Pit

  AFTER TRAVELING THROUGH barren fields and braving dust storms for two weeks, they were now heading single file through a narrow passageway with gray rocks on either side.

  Emira’s stomach churned, the narrow chasm seemed to stretch for eternity into the sky. She missed the openness of the sea. Here she was trapped.

  Even Lady Ethelbright looked uneasy, the noblewoman had been wary the entire ride, but now her features looked noticeably stiffer.

  “Is there a chance we could get ambushed here?” Emira asked. The narrow canyon opened to reveal a large gate with a griffin statue on top. On either side of the gate were two towers carved from the stone surrounding them.

  “No, we have reached the Western Pass,” Lady Ethelbright said when she rode up beside her.

  “Then we are safe at last,” Emira felt like a thousand pounds of ballast had been lifted off her shoulders. Her thoughts drifted to her parents; she had not received any word about them since she left. The moment they were in the capitol, Emira would send a messenger.

  “If Your Majesty considers a nest of grifflings safe, then yes,” Lady Ethelbright said and Emira saw a flicker of disapproval in her eyes.

  Emira thought it best to not push the issue further and the great gate opened with a groan. While they passed under the gate, Emira saw enormous cracks in the rocks. Upon seeing it she squeezed her legs as fear swept through her. Her horse took it as a sign she wanted to go faster. The change in pace took Emira by surprise and she clung to her horses’ neck.

  “Your Majesty slow do-”

  Lady Ethelbrights words were lost to the wind and Emira’s horse sped past her. A guard tried in vein to grab the bridle, but they were too slow.

  She struggled to remain upright as the rocks gave way to a valley and a twisting road that led down to the valley floor. She tugged on the reins to little effect, the horse was now galloping at full speed.

  A low whistling noise filled the air and a glowing rune formed out of little swirls of smoke. The horse froze mid stride, and Emira was sent tumbling to the ground. Right into a large puddle of mud. The wind was knocked right out of her and she struggled to regain her breath.

  “Your Majesty! Are you all right?” Emira heard Lady Ethelbright shout.

  Emira ignored her, she rolled around the ground like a fish gasping for air. When her breath returned, a drop of mud fell to the ground. A shadow fell over her while she did her best to wipe the mud from her face.

  “Are you all right Your Majesty?” A gravelly voice asked. Emira looked up to see a woman in a black and white cloak. Her eyes were narrow, reminding Emira of a sea hawk and her mouth had set into a slight frown. Her cloak had all the runes of the Gods and Goddesses sewn onto it, along with the two circles for the Spirit of the Realm.

  “You must be the High Vestral,” Emira said, doing her best to stand with an air of grace. A small group of people encircled her, most of which were Vestrals and guards.

  “Correct,” the High Vestral replied. Her gaze followed a glob of mud that fell off Emira’s shoulder. Emira didn’t have to look at Lady Ethelbright to know she was glaring at her.

  Gods, it’s just mud.

  Emira lifted her chin and looked at the High Vestral with what she hoped was a calm expression. She had fought off sea griffins and weathered harrowing storms. Now she was going to be judged for a bit of mud? No, she would not have it.

  “I have spent little time on a horse, and I may have gotten too excited,” Emira shrugged. A woman ran up with a few rags. Emira thanked her and used one to wipe her face.

  “There is nothing to forgive, I have come to accompany you the rest of the way,” the High Vestral said and waved at a guard. While the guard led Emira’s horse to her, the animal looked at Emira with a glint in its eye, as if it was proud of itself. Emira glared at him before the guard helped her mount.

  Mud dripped down the sides of the saddle as Emira gripped the horse’s mane to keep steady. Her muscles ached, she couldn’t wait to be walking on her own two feet. Lady Ethelbright rode up beside her while the High Vestral mounted her horse.

  “Are you alright?” Lady Ethelbright whispered as they followed the High Vestral down the winding road.

  “Yes. A bit of mu
d harmed no one,” Emira said.

  “You must remember you are now the living embodiment of the Crown.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Yes, but such accidents can be judged as being reckless. There will be vultures at every corner waiting to rip you to shreds on the smallest of mistakes.”

  Emira nodded. “Then it’s a lot like being at sea. The smallest mistake can mean your death.”

  “A kingdom is not a ship!”

  “Perhaps, but the Royal Court sounds like a dangerous sea one must navigate with care. Do not worry Lady Ethelbright, I promise not to steer us into any rocks.”

  Lady Ethelbright frowned, but said nothing more and they rounded a bend in the road. The High Vestral slowed her horse and pointed into the distance.

  “Your Majesty, may I present the glorious city of Avemdal!” She said looking prouder than a sailor who had fought off a sea griffin.

  In the center of the valley stood a walled city, it was larger than Emira’s hometown and every other village they had passed by on their frantic ride. On the northern end of the city was a hill encircled by a large moat. On top of the hill stood a large intricately carved building with three enormous domes on top. A smaller domed building was connected to the larger one by a courtyard. Sunlight glistened off the tops of the domes and Emira gasped when she realized they were made of glass.

  “That is the Temple of Avemdal, the smaller building is the mausoleum,” Lady Ethelbright said. Emira could not tear her gaze from the glass domes.

  “I didn’t know you could use glass for a roof. Won’t a storm destroy it?”

  “No, the glass is reinforced with magic,” she pointed to a large castle that was connected to the great temple by the bridge, “and that is your new home.”

  The castle was nestled on a hill directly south of the temple. Three stone walls encircled the enormous castle, small clusters of buildings were nestled against a road that wound around the hill. On the top of the hill was a large square building with four towers on each of the corners. With their spear-like points, the towers seemed to pierce the heavens themselves.

  Emira’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as they approached. The city walls growing so tall that they blocked the sun as they waited for the gate to open. The gates opened to a loud blast of fanfare from trumpeters hidden somewhere within the thick walls. A large group of guardsmen in full plate armor greeted them when they rode in, one of them walked alongside Emira’s horse and held the bridle.

  “Thank you, I fear I am not the best horsewoman,” she said to the guard, who bowed their head in reply.

  A roaring crowd greeted Emira when they entered the city and headed for the castle gates. Feverish hope glinted in their eyes while they shouted their welcome. For the first time since she’d been named queen, a weight settled on her shoulders. It was like the weight she had felt when her parents had become ill and Thomas had died. Now she was no longer responsible for her family alone, but an entire nation.

  She did her best to wave at those who had come out to wish her well. Though she could not help but be wary, this was the largest group of people she’d been around since she’d left her home. A cloaked figure at the edge of the crowd caught her attention. Goosebumps formed on her skin. Something about them seemed off. The mysterious person disappeared into an alleyway before she could alert the guards.

  “Fear not, Your Majesty, I can assure you no one would dare harm you in my presence,” the High Vestral said. She slowed her horse to ride beside Emira. Lady Ethelbright tried to come onto her left side, but was unable as the road narrowed a bit.

  “I would hope so.”

  “Vestral Frieda sent me a message about your little... incident and I would like to assure Your Majesty that Vestral was no longer one of ours.”

  “Did the Vestral commit a wrong?”

  “The God of Justice has been declared dead. Most of that God’s Vestrals are becoming attuned to another deity or submitting to self-exile. That man refused to accept it and decided you would be the target for his rage.”

  A dead God was not a good omen for Emira’s reign.

  “Is there any way to ensure the exiled Vestrals are cared for?”

  The High Vestral’s eyebrows shot up with shock, her expression smoothed into indifference when they passed over a small bridge. A murky river ran underneath them. The smell of dead things hung in the air, Emira struggled to keep from gagging while they rode away. She spotted a few people in the sizeable crowds had scraps of cloth over their noses.

  “They are not children to coddle and keep safe,” the High Vestral said with a wave of her hand, causing a gust of wind dance around Emira and cleared the air. When Emira took a relieved breath the High Vestral continued. “Do not worry about such things. You will have enough problems trying to keep the nobles under control and the people from rioting in the streets.”

  “I doubt the people are going to revolt against one of their own,” Lady Ethelbright said. She rode up on Emira’s left and her horse nearly trampled the poor guard holding Emira’s horses’ bridle. The High Vestral bristled at her words.

  “Doubt no possibility. You never know what the Goddess of Fate will throw into your path.”

  “Though you’ve gotten older, you still cannot resist the chance to make me look like a fool,” Lady Ethelbright snapped. The High Vestral rolled her eyes.

  “Gods what is it with you Roltians and your over dramatic flares for nonsense?”

  Lady Ethelbright’s nostrils flared, and her eyes looked as if she were ready to spit fire.

  “Gods bless you, Your Majesty!” a man shouted from the crowd, breaking the tension. Emira waved and smiled as the crowd began shouting blessings at her. Lady Ethelbright and the High Vestral sneered at each other for moment, then they joined Emira in waving.

  WHAT FELT LIKE HOURS later, Emira was finally inside the castle. She was ushered into her quarters to change out of her muddy attire. The rooms were not in one of the enormous towers as she had hoped, but inside the more fortified main keep. There were three rooms, a drawing room for greeting guests who did not want the fanfare of the throne room, a private dining room and her bedchamber.

  Her bedchamber alone was five times larger than her old home, a large fire roared in the hearth that was as tall as three men stacked on top of each other. A small table and a chair were settled under a small window, but the most impressive thing to Emira was the bed. It was easily large enough to fit five men in it. Each bedpost had a small griffin carved on the top. Their front talons held the black and white fabric that was draped over the bed.

  How the king had slept with griffins watching over him was beyond her.

  Emira was currently standing in a washtub watching maids rushed in and out of the room carrying buckets of hot water. The washtub was a tad too small for Emira to sit in and to preserve her modesty the maids had allowed her to keep her shift on. They poured the water over Emira, trying to clean the mud that was clinging to her like a lovesick suitor.

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Emira said to the maid. Who was scrubbing her hair with a soap that smelled so divine, she thought only the Gods themselves could use it.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” the maid said and stepped aside to let another wave of water splash onto Emira.

  Emira winced when a maid tugged a wad of mud from her hair. She did not prod any further conversation, none of the maids seemed keen to talk. It was something that didn’t sit well with her: only two weeks ago she was fishing off the coastline, trying to find a cure for her parents, and now she was here. She wasn’t a noblewoman, she didn’t have the breeding or the patience to be one.

  “By the Gods above, who decorated this room?” Lady Ethelbright shouted from outside the chamber.

  The door swung open and she stormed into the room, her face marred with fury. The silver veil attached to her half-moon shaped headdress trailed behind her like an angry snake. A short man followed her, he looked rather annoyed at Lady
Ethelbright’s outburst.

  Emira let out a yelp and crouched into the muddy basin. Her shift turned a dark brown and a few maids tugged her to her feet.

  “I’m sorry Your Majesty, but you must not sit in the water,” a maid said. Emira ignored her and tried to get the attention of Lady Ethelbright.

  “Do either of you have any decency?” She snapped. She hopped out of the basin and tried to cover parts of her shift that showed more than she liked. A maid hurried over and handed her a small blanket to wrap herself with. Both nobles were too engrossed in their conversation to notice her. Lady Ethelbright placed her hand on the small table. She swept her hand across the wood, flinging dust into the man’s face.

  The man sneezed and his face turned a bright crimson.

  “You had two weeks to ready the chambers and this place looks no better than a stable! She is a Queen, not a cow!” Lady Ethelbright pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her hand.

  The man crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. It was then Emira noticed he was wearing a long cone-shaped hat that had a long tassel at the end. The sight of which caused her to almost slip into the water as a fit of laughter overtook her.

  “Your Majesty! My apologies!” The man sputtered, his face turning an even deeper scarlet as he bowed. “I swear I do not think you are a cow!”

  “Forgive us Your Majesty, Sir Rikard is the Steward of the Castle. He has done an absolutely abysmal job of ensuring Your Majesty’s quarters are prepared properly,” Lady Ethelbright said with a small curtsey. Her sharp gaze eyed the bed with suspicion.

  “Have you even changed the stuffing since the King died?”

  “Yes, we are not complete heathens! And for the love of all the Gods, that table hasn’t been used in decades.”

  “Lady Ethelbright, I can assure you these rooms are the finest rooms I have ever stayed in,” Emira said and gave Sir Rikard a reassuring smile. The nobleman bowed his head.