by Ben Hale
“I don’t understand,” Alydian said, her anger dissipating against the yearning in her mother’s voice.
Elenyr looked away. “Being an oracle is a heavy mantle,” she said, “but in the last hundred years I endured the weight of betrayal by those I loved and felt the agony of helplessness. I would have given anything to fight, to defy the fate that my sisters had chosen, to choose my own future.”
Shocked to silence, Alydian realized she hardly knew her mother. Elenyr had displayed the pinnacle of grace, always smiling in the face of conflict, always serene despite the omnipresent burden of knowledge. Yet she had not been happy.
“Then what is . . . this?” Alydian asked, gesturing to her changed body. “Surely you did not desire this fate.”
Elenyr laughed wryly. “The night before the battle at Skykeep I wanted to see if you would escape, but since I could not watch your fate, I watched Devkin’s future. I foresaw his arrival in Dawnskeep, and witnessed the destruction caused by your escape.”
“You acted like you didn’t know what happened,” Alydian said.
Elenyr smiled. “I may have seen your escape, but I did not know about the magic of rage. I also saw you bring the horrending dagger.”
Alydian stared at her. “You planned to take your magic?”
“I did,” Elenyr said with a smile. “With just a day to prepare, I realized I had a choice, become magicless . . . or become something more.”
“I can see the choice you made,” Alydian said wryly.
Elenyr smiled in delight and dropped into the earth, rising a moment later behind Alydian. She spun a circle, sending green smoke cascading away from her form. Her smile widened at her newness of self.
Alydian could not stop the smile. “That only leaves the question of how?”
“I used the poison,” Elenyr said. “Instead of stopping it, I gave it more power.”
“You enhanced the poison that was killing you?”
“I gave it the power to consume my very flesh, leaving the essence of my being untouched. I was just days from dying in tremendous agony, but the horrending dagger severed the link to my flesh, causing it to wither.”
“Leaving this,” Alydian said, gesturing to her body. “Do you still have your magic?”
“None of it,” Elenyr said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I have become ethereal but my power is now linked to the flaws in my flesh.”
“The flaws?” Alydian asked.
“The oracles have always known more than the people, but some truths were reserved for the high oracle alone. One truth is that magic is linked to flaws in a person’s body. Without such flaws, magic could not exist.”
“I don’t understand.”
Elenyr regarded her for several moments. “When this war comes to a close I will share with you the truth regarding magic, and the Krey.”
“The Krey?” Alydian asked.
“The ancient race,” Elenyr said with a nod. “There are secrets regarding the Dawn of Magic that you must know to protect the people.”
“How does a high oracle pass on the knowledge?” Alydian asked. “They do not always know that death is upon them.”
Elenyr gave a mischievous smile. “The truth does not usually come from your predecessor. It comes from the Eternals.”
Alydian rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Mother, I don’t need more enigmas.”
“My apologies,” Elenyr said. “All will be revealed when the time has come.”
“So what now?” Alydian asked.
“You guide the rebellion,” she said. “And I get to fight.”
“How?” Alydian asked. “You’re very recognizable.”
She smiled and passed a hand over her face—and the ethereal green began to change, the light darkening and turning to the color of flesh. Her cloak shifted to black, the cowl solidifying around her features. Alydian stared in astonishment as her mother turned solid. The only indication of her change was that her eyes were now a startling green, like glowing emeralds.
“My body is now made of light,” Elenyr said, “And I have some control over my appearance. It’s not exactly magic, but it serves its purpose.” She drew her sword and passed it through her arm, both flashing green at the contact.
“Do you ever cease to amaze?” Alydian asked, awed by what her mother had become.
“I’m still your mother,” she said softly.
Tears filled Alydian’s eyes. “You were always more.”
Elenyr closed the gap, tears appearing in her eyes as they embraced, the contact almost solid. But Alydian felt the strength and realized that, shed of her physical form, her mother was now stronger than a rock troll, as if her flesh had limited her true power. For a long moment Alydian clung to her mother, the sudden emotion closing her throat. Then her mother whispered in her ear.
“Please forgive the selfishness of an old woman.”
Alydian pulled away to wipe her tears. “You cheat death so you can continue to fight. That’s hardly selfish.”
She grinned. “You may now consider me a soldier in your army. I will no longer age, but a blade can cut me when I phase to solid—if they can get close enough to strike.” She smiled in anticipation. “What would you have me do?”
Alydian considered for a moment and then a slow smile spread on her face. “Raiden said he couldn’t get into the castle at Herosian to find out what the oracles are up to. Care to make a second attempt?”
Elenyr smiled and turned ethereal again, the colors fading to green smoke. “Never forget I love you,” she said with a wink.
“And I you,” Alydian said with a smile. “But if you’re going to risk your life, I want to know in advance next time.”
“I swear it,” she said.
Smoke billowed from her cloak as she dropped through the ground, disappearing from view. Still uncertain what to make of the exchange, Alydian stared at the spot for several minutes, her smile slowly fading.
She was happy for her mother, but Elenyr’s choice still left the burden of the rebellion on Alydian’s shoulders. Realizing it could have been worse, that her mother could have died, did not help much.
“Devkin,” she called, extinguishing the muffling charms.
Her captain of the guard entered the tent and glanced about. “Did she come?”
“She did,” Alydian said with a sigh.
“And?”
Alydian detailed the exchange, right down to her new abilities. The only part she reserved for herself was the information about the Krey and the Eternals—whoever they were. Devkin remained silent throughout but his expression revealed the swath of his emotions. Confusion, surprise, and finally doubt passed across his face.
“What is she?” he asked when she was finished.
“I know not,” Alydian said, and peeked into her mother’s tree. “But the people will think her a spirit.”
“They revered her as an oracle,” Devkin agreed. “Now she will inspire fear.”
“Fortunately she does not appear as she once did,” Alydian said. “They will not recognize her as Elenyr.”
“So that’s it?” Devkin asked. “To the world Elenyr Elsheeria, high oracle of Lumineia, is dead?”
“To all but us,” Alydian said with a nod. “Spread the word. We’ll have a memorial tomorrow before our final advance to Herosian.”
“Think you can feign grief?”
“I’ll have to,” she sighed. “My mother has turned into a mythical warrior. I may not understand, but at least she is still mine.”
I think, she mentally added.
Devkin was nodding. “But if her power is truly as you say, she can make a difference in this war.”
“How?”
“What do you see when you look into her future?” he asked.
Alydian dipped into her farsight and searched Elenyr’s future but had difficulty locating her tree. When she did, her tree was the largest Alydian had ever seen. She gasped as she watched some of the branches rise to the heavens, s
howing a life of thousands of years.
If she survived.
“My mother’s future is no longer what it once was,” Alydian said, hesitant to share the details.
“But her future was difficult to locate, was it not?”
Alydian’s eyes settled on him. “How would you know that?”
“She is not the same person,” Devkin said. “Her very makeup has been altered, and if you have a difficult time foreseeing her . . .”
“Then Teriah and Meressa will be equally as lost,” Alydian said. “What do you suggest?”
“If your mother is going to infiltrate the fortress, she will have to reveal herself. But if Teriah was distracted by a conversation of peace . . .”
Alydian realized what he was insinuating and nodded. “A farsight meeting,” she said.
The oracles had been using their farsight to meet for ages, allowing them to meet in a location that no one could overhear. The private councils were the backbone of the oracles and served as a way for them to meet even when in distant lands.
“But why would she accept?” she asked.
“Because Teriah will be curious,” Devkin said confidently. “We arrive in Herosian in four days. When we do, she will expect you to seek a conversation. When that happens, your mother can infiltrate the castle.”
“And find out exactly what Teriah is up to,” Alydian said, but her smile turned into a frown. “How do I get a message to Elenyr?”
“She is smart,” Devkin said, “She’s still learning her abilities and will be patient. When you provide the opportunity she’ll take it.”
Alydian frowned. “I’ll be talking to Teriah about peace while my mother sneaks into the fortress?”
“Exactly,” he said.
She laughed sourly. “It appears I have finally become an oracle.” She wasn’t certain she liked it.
Chapter 26: Madness
The Griffin rebellion arrived at Herosian shortly after midday. At the head of the army, Alydian topped a hill and brought her steed to a halt. Although Alydian had seen the newly built city in her farsight, she sucked in her breath at the sight.
In the span of months the Verinai had built a city and a fortress, the battlements high and thick. The city walls were manned by a massive army, complete with entities, sentients, and guardians.
The castle at the center of the city rose to an imposing height, its walls fortified by stone mages so they were nearly unbreakable. Towers and ramparts were further lined with war machines designed to cast missiles all the way to the city wall, allowing the central keep to reinforce the entire city. Of all the city’s defenses, a quartet of massive objects drew the eye, for there was not one titan.
There were four.
Situated at the four points of the compass, the giant statues were humanoid in shape, but each was distinct in form. One boasted four arms, while another had a huge barbed tail. The third resembled a traditional warrior, albeit with giant spikes littering its body. The last faced them, and looked like a winged demon.
Alydian’s eyes widened as the demon titan shifted its feet as if eager for the approaching battle. A hand the size of a castle gate opened and fire poured from its veins, igniting across its fingers.
The sight of the titans caused the rebellion army to recoil, many of the soldiers crying out in fear, their horses responding in kind. General Astin moved quickly to quell doubt and issued orders for their army to surround Herosian. After a moment’s hesitation, Duke Senin obeyed the order, and their forces began to spread out.
It quickly became apparent that the rebellion had amassed a larger army, but sheer numbers would not be enough. A single titan could destroy thousands of troops and withstand enormous damage.
But even with such an advantage, the Empire’s army did not wish to fight. They stood on the battlements in silence as they were slowly surrounded, making no move to strike at those seeking to trap them.
Banners waved in the twilight as the rebellion forces came to a halt and formed ranks, the rearmost pitching tents and harvesting wheat from the supply wagons, settling in for an extended siege. At the front of the line the soldiers began building their own makeshift fortifications, all the while casting wary looks at the city and the titans.
Alydian’s frown deepened. Even without the city, the army and the titans could likely devastate the rebellion army. So why sit behind their walls and wait? Once again, she had the insidious doubt that she was missing something essential.
“Are you ready?” Devkin asked at her side.
Alydian nodded and reached to the lightcast bird on her saddle. She’d taken great care to prepare the bird. Lifting the bird aloft, she sent it winging across the gap between armies. It soared over the city wall and passed between two great titans. Unopposed, it flew to the citadel. It reached the fortress and circled, searching for its target. Then it dived to a balcony extending from the highest tower.
Alydian cast a sight charm, enhancing her vision to that of an eagle. Her eyes tingled as the charm threaded into her flesh and the distant fortress leapt into focus, the bird alighting on the arm of Teriah.
The woman smiled as if she’d expected the message. Alydian could not hear her own words but watched Teriah’s reaction. When it finished, Alydian’s bird disintegrated, and Teriah began to cast her own.
Astin and Princess Ora rode up to Alydian’s side. “Do you think she will accept?” he asked.
“Of course,” Alydian said. “She wants to stall, and talking to me accomplishes that.”
“We could have held our own if they hadn’t cast those things,” he said, stabbing a finger at the titan with four arms. “But why do they not attack?”
“I don’t know,” Alydian said. “But rest assured, the woman has a plan.”
“Should we be afraid?” Princess Ora asked.
“No,” Alydian said, lying with a smile. “Whatever intrigue she has prepared, we will stop.”
“I just don’t understand,” Ora said. “It’s almost like she wants a siege.”
“She can last forever in her city,” Astin said. “Senin’s scouts reported seeing crops within the walls. They are ready to last a while.”
“What about to the east?” Devkin asked.
“Same as the west,” Ora said. “The Empire has withdrawn to Herosian. By all accounts the Verinai still protect their guildhalls, but it appears the entire western part of the Empire has been abandoned.”
“Do you think they’ve left Terros behind as well?” Astin asked. “We could send scouts to the other cities.”
“I would advise against it,” Alydian said. “To divide our forces would leave us vulnerable. But you may want to send word to the eastern villages.”
“Many will join us,” Ora said with a nod.
“I’ll send scouts immediately,” Astin said.
Alydian spotted a flicker of light appearing on the fortress and launch into the sky. It flapped its wings and soared above the city, passing between two titans, a pinprick of light between mountains of magic.
The bird folded its wings and dived to Alydian. She raised her arm to it and the hawk clamped onto her arm, opening its beak to speak. The words came in Teriah’s voice, the tone revealing her smile.
“Sister,” Teriah said, “your army has grown since last we met, but I have no desire to see blood spilt upon my new city. I accept your invitation but merely wish to change the location. One week, dawn, at the citadel you destroyed, north courtyard.”
The bird disintegrated in a burst of light, plunging them into the deepening darkness. Alydian sighed, realizing Teriah had chosen the location in an attempt to inflict regret. Dismounting, she handed the reins to Devkin and strode towards her tent.
“Can she hurt you?” Devkin asked.
“She cannot harm me in a farsight council,” Alydian said.
“Good,” Devkin said. “Then keep her talking for as long as possible.”
“Why?” Astin asked, overhearing the comment.
; Alydian and Devkin exchanged a look. None of the others knew of Elenyr, or of her plan to infiltrate Teriah’s castle. Alydian offered a comforting smile.
“The more she talks, the more we learn,” she said.
It was technically true, but misleading. Astin didn’t question it. “Good luck. I wouldn’t want to speak to that woman for anything.”
Ora smiled at the uncharacteristic vehemence to his tone. “Nor I.”
Astin smiled and wheeled his mount away. Ora went with him, and the two rode towards the command tent being set up at the rear of the army. When they were gone Devkin gestured to Alydian’s tent.
“I’ll make sure you are not disturbed,” he said.
She nodded and ducked into the tent. Then she lifted the stone from the floor, shaping the rock into a large chair. Drawing a breath to steady herself, she sank into her seat, knowing her adversary was sitting in the Herosian fortress. Across the chasm the two oracles dived into their farsight, each choosing that whatever the course, both would travel to Dawnskeep to meet in one week’s time.
Alydian watched the branches fold upon themselves, intertwining to form a single option. Then she pressed her consciousness into the seventh day at twilight. The scene cleared until she saw the ruined fortress of Dawnskeep.
Her jaw clenched as she viewed the great tower where it had fallen, the remains of the city scattered around its bulk. Nearby, an enormous hole had been torn into the courtyard where her dragon had ripped its way to the surface.
“Is it difficult to see what you have destroyed?” Teriah asked, striding to greet her.
Dressed in the regal white of an oracle empress and bearing a crown, Teriah exuded authority and power. She wore armor and an enchanted cloak, which glimmered even through the farsight.
“I destroyed the fortress,” Alydian said, “you destroyed the peace.”
The magic of rage boiled in Alydian’s veins. It had been weeks since she’d felt its power, but facing Teriah it surged to the fore. Standing just feet from her, Teriah stared at her, a slight smile on her face as if she knew what Alydian was thinking.
She is our betrayer, whisper hissed.