by Elise Kova
Once more, Vi pulled power from the stone. It was easier this time. If working with the sword was like drawing from a pond of magic, this was an ocean. She had much more to work with and the magic sought her out eagerly.
Stepping back, Vi repeated the process and drew out the magic by spreading her hands. Yargen’s raw essence shone brighter and brighter, the more she pulled. How much power had the sword held? She couldn’t remember. But she doubted anyone but her and Taavin would be able to tell if the new Sword of Jadar was weaker than the last.
Bringing her hands together, Vi watched as the magic condensed once more into a crystal. This time, she kept flooding the stone with power. Glyphs she didn’t recognize but inherently understood appeared within her mind: grow, change, shape. They were magic given form and tied to her will, forcing the stone to grow as she commanded. Crystals jutted out from that initial seed, becoming hilt and blade. In a blindingly bright minute, a new sword hovered in the air before her.
Taking the hilt in her hand, Vi pulled the blade from the magic forge in which she’d created it. The leftover power soaked back into the Caverns. Some lingered on the sword, flooding into her. As it sank into her bones, she felt a rush straight to the head.
Her thoughts spun dizzily until her attention settled on the weapon in her palm.
“It worked,” Vi whispered in awe. A theory, inspired by a five-year-old, supported only by the existence of some black stone that had surrounded Vi after Yargen’s magic had protected her once… she’d finally proved it right.
Chapter Two
Two arms circled her waist. Vi dropped the sword, startled. A yelp became laughter that echoed off the soaring ceiling of the Caverns as Taavin leaned back and lifted her feet off the ground to spin her in place.
“Put me down!” Vi managed through bursts of laughter. Her sides hurt, though she didn’t know if it was from his crushing grip or from laughing more than she had in what felt like years.
“You did it!” Taavin’s voice bounced off every crystal as he spun her once more before setting her down. He grabbed her face with both hands and brought his lips to hers. Vi savored the feeling of his breath, hot on her cheeks, and the warmth of his palms, even if it was all over too quickly. “You did it.”
“You helped a bit, along the way,” she said breathlessly when they broke apart.
“Just a bit though.” She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if he realized he’d been a monumental part of her success. Perhaps he was playing along with her jest. He continued, “It’s time for you to return yourself to the world and begin enacting this plan in earnest.”
“I know.” She’d known for years it was coming. But somehow part of her was still terrified. The truth was, she might never feel ready despite all her convictions. Perhaps that’s how it was when the fate of the world hung in the balance. “Walk back with me?” Vi asked, sheathing the new sword and starting for the entrance to the Caverns. “Deneya will need to hear our next steps, too—and she’s probably been back from Mosant for at least an hour.”
“You could always summon me when you return?” Taavin asked, though his footsteps matched hers. “It’s not as though you can’t summon me there.”
“I know.” She had used narro hath at the cabin two years ago. That night, she and Deneya had returned from Mosant, where they’d found a bottle of the same spiced liquor they drank together in Norin. Taavin had laughed and reminisced with them. He’d regaled them with tales of Vi’s former selves and worlds that were both similar and different.
But he couldn’t partake in the festivities, not really. He couldn’t drink with them. He couldn’t take her to bed as Vi had discovered she’d wanted.
Vi had never allowed herself to summon him there again. The torture of seeing him, wanting him, but not having him, was something she couldn’t regularly bear.
“Is it so much to ask to stroll with you?” she asked, pushing away the ache the thoughts left in her.
“I suppose not,” he said with a soft chuckle.
They emerged into the sunlight and magic instantly shimmered around Taavin’s shoulders. That magic was a reminder of what he really was. In the Caverns, he seemed like any other man. But he was consciousness tethered to a watch and held together by a goddess’s words.
Even still, when he offered her his elbow, she took it and ignored the sensation of a thin barrier between them. She ignored that his feet didn’t leave footprints in the snow. Vi pulled him close, and savored what already felt like one of the last peaceful moments they were going to have for a long time.
Someday soon… I’ll make you real, Vi wanted to say, but the words remained a vow on her heart rather than lips.
She looked down at her hand, feeling the tingle of magic still underneath her fingers. Yargen had remade her body between worlds. The goddess’s power was within her—it sought her out. It was the same power that allowed Vi to manipulate the crystals. She was determined to continue exploring the seemingly endless possibilities of the magic. What kind of last-chance-to-save-the-world Champion would she be if she didn’t at least try to push the boundaries?
It took about an hour to walk back to the cabin. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky. They didn’t say much, though they didn’t need to—just being together was enough.
Deneya was outside, just finishing covering their cart with a tarp to keep the snow off.
“About tim—oh, you’re here too.” Her eyes settled on Taavin. “Is that a good sign or a bad one?”
“I’ll let you decide,” he quipped in return.
“I had a breakthrough.”
“Did you do it? Did you transfer the power in full?” Deneya set down her axe. Vi nodded. “By Yargen’s flame, you actually did it!” The handle of the axe had barely fallen into the snow and Deneya was clapping Vi over the shoulders. “Well, this calls for a celebration. It’s a good thing I got the roast hare.”
“Thanks to Yargen for that.” Vi’s stomach growled as if on command.
“Come, tell me everything over food.” Deneya headed right for the cabin door, holding it open for Taavin. What Vi considered a feast was already set out on the table.
“You set the table,” she observed.
“And you say I never do anything nice for you.”
“You let the food get cold is what you did.” Vi grinned at Deneya as they sat across from each other. Taavin took his place at the foot of Vi’s bed.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, princess. Let me save you from your portion.” Deneya reached over to take her plate.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m armed.” Vi brandished the knife that was set out by her fork.
“Not the mighty Champion and her terrifying, blunt-as-a-butter-knife dagger.” Deneya gasped. Vi gave a mock snarl, playfully jabbing the air in Deneya’s direction until the woman let go of her plate. “Mercy, I’m unarmed.”
“Perhaps I should level the playing field, then.” Vi set down the knife, forgetting the food a moment, and untied the crystal sword from her hip. Deneya stopped laughing.
Vi drew the sword and held it out before her, parallel to the ground, at eye level. She focused on it, feeling the magic that collected together and gave the crystals shape. Vi tightened her grip, imagining her hold on the magic becoming greater in turn.
Change shape, she willed the crystals. Magic moved through the blade, invisible to anyone but her, and collected in the far tip of the sword. The blade thinned, transforming into a pole. The magic at the end jutted outward.
By the time the light faded, Vi was holding an axe of crystal.
“You’ve been making more progress than you’ve let on,” Deneya said with quiet awe.
“You can hold it.” Vi stretched her arm across the table.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Deneya took the weapon and twirled it once. She stood, swung it two times, and let out a low whistle. “I could cleave so many heads from shoulders with this.”
Vi laughed.
“She’s accomplished incredible things,” Taavin said warmly. Vi glanced at him, the pride in his voice nearly making her blush.
“So, you can manipulate crystals however you please in addition to transferring power between them and the Caverns.” Deneya turned back, passing her the axe. “It’s what we were hoping for, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Vi took the axe in both hands. She was silent a moment, intense focus overtaking her as she shifted the magic within the crystals once more. Like ice melting in sunlight, some of the crystals vanished, others jutted out, smoothed over, and the sword took shape once more.
“When the crystal weapons are taken to the Caverns, Vi will be there to transfer the power and—”
“The magic weapons won’t actually be destroyed and the Caverns will remain intact,” Deneya interrupted Taavin. “Then we’ll combine the collective magic of the crystal weapons, the Caverns themselves, and what’s trapped in the flame of Yargen in Risen to give a physical form to the Goddess herself. Then she’ll duel Raspian in another battle of light and dark, yes, yes, I know.”
“For a battle that the fate of the world hinges on, you make it sound boring,” Taavin remarked.
“The fate of the world has been boring these past fourteen years,” Deneya quipped without looking at him. She shoveled food into her mouth and Vi took the opportunity to do the same. “What I’m asking is… now that she can do this, what are our next steps?”
“We’ll approach the weapons in order, based on Taavin’s knowledge of past histories and stones in the river of fate,” Vi mused aloud. “First is the sword. We know where the scythe is, so that won’t be a problem.”
“Glad getting to Meru is listed as ‘not a problem’,” Deneya muttered. Vi ignored her obvious disbelief and continued.
“The axe is safely hidden away in the North—or it should be.”
“It’s never been found before the War in the North.” Taavin gave Vi a nod.
“That leaves the crown, then,” Deneya said from behind her hand as she chewed. “Where do we think that one is?”
“Almost impossible to say. The crown is always so variable in its location.” Taavin scowled. The crown was never a pleasant topic of conversation. It had the most variables and made them all nervous.
“For the time being, we work with the stones in the river. We try to vary the timeline as little as possible,” Vi said calmly. “We’ll go to the Capital and see Aldrik gets the sword so he can fulfill that stone in the river of fate: him bringing the sword to the Caverns.”
“You’re giving him the sword?” Deneya blinked in shock.
“Of course not,” she said with a laugh. “I’m going to need you to make me a new one.”
“Me make a new—” Deneya stopped herself, comprehension dawning on her face “—oh, I get it.”
“And, honoring the stones in the river, will help ensure the birth of a new Champion,” Taavin said with an approving nod.
The words grated her, but Vi didn’t let it show. How were they supposed to look toward success if they were constantly planning for failure? For the time being, it wasn’t a question she was ready to pose to him. They were on the same page, and the night was going beautifully.
She swallowed the uncomfortable thoughts with a hunk of rabbit and washed it down with a long drink.
“Then it’s clear where we’re headed next.” She punctuated the statement by setting down her wooden cup heavily.
“Back to Norin?” Deneya said with a smirk, knowing full well what Vi was about to say.
“If you’d like.” Vi played into the woman’s jest. “But I’ll be heading to the capital of the Solaris Empire.”
“About time.”
“About time?” Vi snorted. “Imagine how I feel… it’s taken about thirty-two years and one rebuilding of the world for me to get to the home of my forefathers.”
Solarin, the capital of the Solaris Empire, was nestled atop a twin-peaked mountain. At the very top of the city, stretching toward the taller of the two summits, was the Imperial Palace. It spilled downward into stone buildings with tiled roofs.
Even from the switch-back road leading up to the city, Vi could see the castle’s golden-tipped spires and gigantic pennons forever fluttering in the mountain breezes.
“It’s smaller than I imagined,” Deneya said from the horse next to her, Midsummer. Vi rode Prism. Both women held lead ropes for the yearlings trailing close behind.
“Smaller, really?” From where Vi sat, it was massive. And they were still a good half hour down the mountain.
Deneya shrugged. “Nothing on the Dark Isle compares to Risen.”
“You can’t compare Solaris to Meru.” Vi chuckled. They spoke of a world not too far from their own, yet the travelers around them continued on none the wiser. Anyone who overheard their conversation likely wouldn’t believe or make sense of the remarks anyway.
They arrived at the main gate of the capital in good time. Their warstriders towered over most men and beasts; even their young offspring were the size of a regular horse. Rather than trying to fit in, Vi worked to stand out with her Western horses and dark hair.
“Excuse me, sir.” They rode for one of the Imperial guards stationed by the gate.
“May I help you?”
“I’m looking to speak with the master of horse at the Imperial palace. We bring a gift for the young prince’s fifteenth birthday and coming-of-age ceremony.” Vi motioned to the yearlings and added the slightest hint of a Western accent to her words.
“That ceremony isn’t for months yet.”
“Horses take time to settle and train,” she countered calmly.
“Head down the main road. It’s hard to miss the castle entrance. You’ll ask for Augus when you get to the stables,” the guard answered dully.
“Thank you.” Vi gave him a nod and they continued plodding along the main road of Solarin.
A sensation much like the first time she’d stepped foot on Meru overtook her. Icicles shone in the morning light hanging off undisturbed windowsills and gutters. Men leaned over balconies, taking drags off pipes that filled the air with sweet smoke. Music she didn’t know lofted over the sounds of people talking.
This was the place where she should’ve lived… in another world.
The palace was built in layers up the mountainside. At its lowest point were long rows of stables that reminded Vi somewhat sadly of the castle in Norin. They were stopped by two guards at the gates.
“Business?” one of the men demanded.
“We’re here to speak with Augus.” Vi motioned to the all-black colt with a stripe of white on his forehead. “We have a gift for the prince.”
“A moment.” The guard ran into the stables and returned with a barrel-chested man who had a thick coating of golden hair over his forearms.
“I hear you’ve got something for the prince.” The man pushed up his sleeves a little farther. “Well, bring him in, let me see the creature.”
Argus led them into the stables, heading for an empty stall toward the back. Both women dismounted when they came to a stop. Vi untied the lead rope of the black yearling from her saddle, passing it to Argus. The stable master did a quick round of the horse and let out a low whistle. His eyes swept across the four mounts.
“Where’d you come across these lovely creatures?”
“My father was a horse trainer for the royal family.” Vi thickened her Western accent slightly.
“Your father? Does he have a name?”
Vi wrung her hands, looking askance. “I shouldn’t say.”
“I can’t rightly give the crown prince a gift that I can’t verify.”
“Clearly they’re warstriders of good stock,” Deneya huffed.
“Yes, I can see that, but the Emperor will insist.”
“Then the Emperor is—”
“It’s all right, Danya,” Vi said hastily, interrupting the woman with the fake name they had agreed on
. She looked over at the stable master, attempting to be the living embodiment of insecurity. “Between you and me?”
“Yes?” The man’s eyebrows arched.
“My father was Ronaldo.” There were a few events that Vi would never need Taavin’s help recalling, and the night she escaped Norin with Fiera was one of them. The stablemaster in Norin had assumed she was taking Prism to Ronaldo for boarding, following the birth of the prince.
“Ronaldo… you can’t be talking about the Ronaldo? Legendary breeder for warstriders?” Vi gave a meek nod. “I thought he only had two sons.”
“I’m not…” Vi intentionally fumbled her words.
“Vivian was conceived on the wrong side of the sheets. Or barn, as it were,” Deneya finished for her.
“Ronaldo, the dog.” Augus shook his head. “Right, well, this all explains the apparent quality of the animals. You willing to part with the other yearling as well? Perhaps the whole family? I know the black one with the stripe is a gift for the prince. But I could pay you for the others.”
Vi and Deneya exchanged a glance. They hadn’t really discussed this. They’d managed to stretch the gold Vi had taken from Norin for years due to their own resourcefulness, with help from Deneya’s profits selling her wares. But it couldn’t hurt to have a little extra coin.
It also didn’t hurt to have a swift getaway on good horses they didn’t have to steal.
“I hadn’t planned on it,” Vi started slowly, hoping her hesitation read as a bastard daughter’s love for tokens gifted from her father. “The other yearling we might be willing to part with.” Vi looked at the creature. “But the parents…”
“The yearling is a start.” Argus stroked his chin. “How long are you staying in the city? At least a year?”
“Hopefully longer than that. We wanted to find work,” Deneya answered. “Perhaps establish a life here.”
“You seem like an able-bodied young woman. I could put you to work here, in the stables. Even board these fine beasts at no extra cost to you.”
“Really? That’d be great!” Deneya flashed him a bright smile.