The Priestess Trials Trilogy Box Set: An Asian Myth and Legend Series

by AA Lee

“What just happened?” Kisig asked to no one in particular, but nobody answered.

  “Priestess Dula!” the high priestess cried. They were all running again, but Priestess Dula ran on the air like she was flying.

  “Dear spirits, protect our village,” Priestess Dula prayed among the chaos. When she looked at Kisig, guilt and desperation filled her eyes. “Those demons left their women to be killed. All the men were just illusions. I should have known, but I didn’t try to touch them out of fear that my spell would break.”

  Chapter 31

  Tala

  Her first thought was that maybe she’d been knocked out from her master’s punishment. The cold floor only meant that she wasn’t inside the house. She stretched her tired body and noticed that she was lying on a stone.

  “High Priestess!” she shouted. She needed to get to the shrine. Scrambling to her feet, she prayed that she wasn’t too late. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, but judging by how her energy was up, she must have been out for a while. The crescent moon outside the underground didn’t provide enough light to show her the way, so she tried to think of the path she had flown with her spirit. She raced back to the village with a single goal in mind—to follow the high priestess.

  Wails of terror sent shivers up her spine just before she entered the village. Villagers fled in every direction. Warriors with spears, bolos, and arrows hunted them like animals. It was as if the vision she’d created with her spear had come to life. She’d thought she could withstand violence. She’d thought she was brave. She’d thought she was strong, but the dark woods were so inviting, tempting her to flee.

  Her thoughts shattered when a girl fell in front of her, an arrow through her back. Tala froze. She couldn’t even catch a breath. The thought of passing out and dying right there fueled her fear.

  The girl moved. She’s still alive. Should I heal her? But before Tala could move, a warrior approached, armed with a bow. Slowly, he followed the trail of blood, as if it were a pleasure to see the girl crawl.

  Only a small tree hid Tala from his sight, but if he reached the girl, he would spot Tala, and her death would surely follow. Tala shook her head to avoid the desperation in the girl’s eyes as she crawled away. She had no weapon. Magic couldn’t save her. She stood very still. Her only thought was to survive.

  Eyes fixed on the wounded girl, the warrior pulled his bolo knife from its sheath. His thick lips parted in a malicious smile. The man yanked the girl’s hair and lifted the bolo knife to hack at the wounded girl.

  Heart pounding, Tala dashed forward. Her hand caught the man’s arm holding the bolo. Her magic flowed like water, possessing the knife in a breath. “It’s mine,” she hissed at the warrior.

  He dropped to his knees. “Yes, I’m yours, mistress.”

  Baffled, Tala searched his eyes for deceit. The warrior looked back at her with adoration.

  “What do you mean you’re mine?”

  “You commanded me to be yours, so I shall be. Just give me a command, and I will follow it, whatever it is, even if it means my death.”

  Taken aback, Tala didn’t know what to tell the warrior. She searched her memory for what she had seen when she’d aimed to gain control of the bolo knife. Tala gasped in realization. She had held the man’s arm instead of the bolo’s hilt. The murders she’d seen weren’t part of the bolo’s past. She had practiced taking control of things countless times, but it hadn’t occurred to her that her magic could possibly work on a person.

  She decided to test the warrior. “What’s the best way for me to reach the shrine?”

  “You can’t. The warriors will kill you. You should flee now.”

  Tala had thought the warrior was old at first, but up close, he looked just a little older than she was. “Where are the contenders? I mean the gifted.”

  “In the meeting hall, but it’s surrounded by magicians.”

  “There’s no time. I have to get there as soon as possible. You have to do something very important for me.” Tala turned to check the wounded girl, but she was no longer breathing.

  “Yes, mistress. Anything.”

  “Let’s pretend that you captured me. Bring me to the meeting hall, and go to the shrine. You will see a spear near the well. Hand it to me without drawing suspicion. Can you do it?” Her last hope was to fight back using the illusion from the spear, and she needed to free the contenders to help her fight.

  “Yes, mistress. I will act really well for you.” The warrior looked around, hacked some vines, and tied her hands behind her back.

  She looked down and tried to appear as small as possible, like she had before the Priestess Trials. She yelped when the warrior grabbed her by the hair and urged her forward.

  Blood paved her way through the center of the village. No matter how much she wanted to block the screams, she couldn’t cover her ears. Dead bodies filled her vision. She stopped as a small hand clutched the helm of her skirt. The boy crawled, pulling her dress for support. She leaned forward to help, but the warrior yanked her back just in time before a bolo severed the boy’s head.

  Blood sprayed her muddy skirt before a big foot kicked the boy’s body aside. Bile rose to her throat. She lurched forward and sank to her knees. Heaving uncontrollably, all she could think of was her failure to help the boy.

  “Another gifted girl? Boy, you should get a huge chunk from this war.”

  “Yes, but I think she must be new because she wasn’t able to knock me over with her magic.”

  Tala wiped her mouth and rose with unsteady legs. She looked up to see an older warrior covered in tattoos and scars. His bolo knife was stained with blood. Reluctantly, she lowered her head to hide her clenched jaw.

  “Ah, what a shame.” The older warrior sighed. “She looks like she would be perfect as my new mistress.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. We have orders to bring every gifted person to the magicians. As much as I want to give her to you…”

  “No, no. If she’s not strong, as you said, she’ll end up with me.”

  Tala kept her head bowed but raised it ever so slightly to look at the other warrior with murderous eyes.

  “Did you just… glare at me?” he snarled and grabbed Tala’s chin so tight it made her eyes water.

  “No,” she croaked.

  “You better behave, little witch, because if your petty tricks don’t work with our powerful magicians, you’ll be discarded like meat, and you’ll be able to glare at me all you want every time I whip you.”

  “Sir, I better bring her to the magicians now,” her captor said with hesitation.

  “Go!” the older warrior barked.

  The meeting hall was quiet from outside. When her captor opened the door, all eyes turned to her.

  “Tala! No!” Nimfa was a few feet from the entrance. Her hands and feet were tied. “Run, Tala. Run.”

  Tala wanted desperately to tell her she had a plan, but Daa warriors, priestesses, and magicians surrounded them.

  “Gag that noisy girl! Her voice is making me crazy,” an old man with white shoulder-length hair ordered.

  “Yes, Mago!” Two warriors approached Nimfa with pieces of cloths.

  Nimfa thrashed. She was far from the wise, small girl who had trained Tala. “You can’t be here now! You’re the only one who can save us. Fight them.” The rest of her words were incomprehensible.

  Impatient, Tala glanced at the closed door. What’s taking the warrior so long?

  With her mouth gagged, Nimfa gave up trying to make a sound. She looked at Tala then to the burning torch. She had no clue what the girl meant. Nimfa looked at her again then back to the torch. When Tala stood and walked forward, Nimfa nodded.

  “Stop!” Mago held up his hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I am cold, sir. I want to be near the torch.”

  “Do you have a death wish?” he asked absently as he walked around the captured women. “That torch won’t warm anyone.”

  “She just
entered, sir. She has no idea,” a warrior near the door answered.

  “We can’t waste talents. Stay where you are. And you.” He turned to the warrior who had just spoken. “Gag her.”

  “Yes, sir. But I ran out of cloth. I’ll find one and gag her.”

  Tala didn’t know what to do with the torch, but Nimfa was adamant. They must have learned something while she was unconscious. She stepped closer to the other girls. She was desperate to move forward, but there was little movement in the shrine. She would catch the Daa magicians’ attention if she hurried.

  A gagged cry made her turn her head. Diyosa lay on the ground, bleeding at the waist. A soldier’s spear was smeared with blood. When Tala met her eyes, Diyosa moved her head slightly toward the torch. Understanding dawned on Tala. In the chaos that followed, Tala skittered toward the torch.

  “Stop!”

  All the movement stopped at Mago’s thunderous voice.

  “Hurry, Tala!”

  Tala looked back at Nimfa, whose gag was now on the floor.

  “Hurry!”

  Tala sprinted forward amid the screams for her to stop. Light from a magician’s wand flickered. She dropped to the ground like a sack of rice. In her peripheral vision, she could see contenders fighting Daa priestesses. It didn’t take long for the contenders to fall to the ground one by one. Despite the pain, something registered in her mind—the torch was within her reach, and it hadn’t thrown her back.

  “Get up!” Nimfa shouted.

  The force that held Tala’s body vanished. Nimfa had impaled the magician holding Tala down. Tala was on her feet in an instant, and her hand stretched to grab the torch.

  The torch pulsated. Her body shook violently in response. It didn’t feel as though she was the only one channeling her magic. The torch unfolded its past unlike any object she had held before. The violence in front of her disappeared, replaced by the past. Before her eyes, she saw her predecessors rise and fall, the village’s glorious days covered in gold and an unending inferno. She understood what she had to do.

  Tala gasp as she came back to reality. Her feet were in the same position, as though the vision had only lasted for a blink. Silence engulfed the shrine. On the ground, some contenders lay unconscious. Tala stifled a cry as she spotted Nimfa, a spear through her heart, but no tears sprung forth. She only felt the urgency of revenge, and something inside her burned. Hatred…

  She straightened her back, raised her chin, and found that it felt better. She cocked her head as she looked at the world in a whole new way.

  The torch pulsated, its excitement flowing through Tala at the amount of magic surrounding it. It was hungry.

  “It’s time to show your warmth,” she said, looking at the flames rising from the torch.

  Feet scuffled, and lights flickered. Tala gently shook her head at the nuisance. Mago extended his hand, and a bolt of light hit her. Her lips curved upward. She jumped, and in a heartbeat, Mago disappeared in the roaring flame.

  A warrior jumped forward to hack at her, but the torch was faster. His ash on the stone floor was the only reminder that he had ever been there. He had no power, so the torch didn’t want to suck him in.

  Panic ensued. Those who fled did not reach the door. She and the torch were one, and she knew where all the gifted were. She wanted to satisfy its hunger, and it wanted her revenge.

  The contenders screamed, and it took all Tala’s will to restrain the torch. Before she killed them, too, Tala marched from the meeting hall. She barely glanced at Nimfa’s body. She had a lot to do, and she had a village to save.

  Warriors from Daa burned like kindling when the torch’s light touched them. Those who saw what happened fled, but Tala was faster. Sometimes she toyed with them. She would walk slowly just to let them believe they were safe, then she would run like the wind to appear in front of them before she burned them. It excited her. Something at the back of her mind told her that it was wrong, but she brushed it aside, telling herself that she was the only one who could defeat them.

  The time flew by as she hunted each one of the Daa warriors. She didn’t know who their leader was, and she didn’t care. She wanted them all to die. She wanted them to pay for torturing the villagers. She chased them to the mountains and the rivers. She felt glee when she found each warrior cowering in fear as she spotted them.

  When the sun finally rose and Tala was sure that no Daa warriors remained, she returned to the village, her torch held high. Her mouth curled into a smile, for it was true that even the sun could not hide its light.

  Chapter 32

  Kisig

  Ashes greeted them about an hour away from the village. Arrows and spears lying beside the ashes made it clear that they had been warriors. He couldn’t imagine the power of the magician who had burned them to nothing. There wasn’t a single bone left. How are we going to give them a proper burial if we don’t know who they are?

  He and the warriors had run as fast as they could to save the village. He asked the high priestess if they could travel faster like they had when they’d healed his wounds from the lion’s attack, but the high priestess had said that the magic only worked from the shrine to another place. Priestess Dula and a few younger priestesses followed the warriors, but they were still slower.

  When they finally reached the gate, his knees almost gave way. Even though he had seen his fair share of violence, it had never come close to the horror before his eyes. The village was bathed in blood. Head Warrior Bagsik grasped his arm to offer support, but Kisig righted himself and gently removed the head warrior’s hand. He fought the urge to vomit.

  Despite the horror, the villagers’ wails beside their loved ones gave him hope because it meant there were survivors.

  “Did Daa warriors do this?” he asked to no one in particular.

  A man to his left holding his headless son nodded.

  “How did you escape? We didn’t see them on the way back.”

  “They’re all dead!” someone to his left answered in a high-pitched voice, prompting sobs from the people. “They burned to the ground. I… I’m sure all of them did.” The girl was slumped on the ground next to an older man, possibly her father. An arrow pierced his heart, and wounds covered his body.

  “How?”

  “The slave… I mean the priestess who was a slave… the slave priestess burned them. She burned them all like they were dry leaves. She smiled as she burned them, and she’s back. I’m afraid she’ll burn us too. She’s in there.” The girl pointed in the shrine’s direction.

  “Gather the bodies of the villagers. We’ll make sure they have proper burials.”

  “Yes, Datu.” Head Warrior Bagsik put his hand over his heart.

  Kisig briskly walked to the shrine. He was thankful that had Tala saved the village, but the power she held scared him.

  “I’ll go first, Datu. We don’t know what’s in there.” Head Warrior Bagsik jogged to get ahead of him.

  A few warriors jogged beside him, blocking Kisig from any harm that might come his way.

  “Welcome back.” The chilling voice was not just Tala’s. The girl stood motionless in the entrance, torch in hand. The light was something he had not yet seen. It lit the whole shrine and swallowed the lights from the candles. Even though he’d only met the girl a few times, he knew the torch had changed her.

  “How was your picnic in Daa? By the look in your eyes, I suppose it was a failure.”

  Warrior Bagsik was beside Tala in an instant. Kisig didn’t know when the head warrior had raised his arm, but in the blink of an eye, a bolo was aimed at Tala’s throat.

  “Be careful how you address the village datu. I heard you’re now a priestess, but that is not how you treat the ruler of this land.”

  “Pathetic.”

  Tala pushed Head Warrior Bagsik aside like he was nothing but a leaf. He hit the shrine’s wall with a thud. His bolo knife clanked on the stone floor.

  “I thought you were brilliant. I thought you had a great
plan. The good thing is, it seems you’re not the one who tattled about the attack on Daa, though I’m sure someone did. No, you wouldn’t leave your precious daughter here to be butchered by the animals.”

  The girl raised her eyes slowly and met Kisig’s. “You should be glad that I chose this village over my people. I could have easily joined them instead and left this wretched village that treated me like dirt. I will make sure I won’t be treated as such anymore, Datu.”

  She had a point, but he didn’t know how to respond. He was educated to rule the people, but he knew nothing about magic. He wished the high priestess were fast enough to help him handle the girl.

  “Anyway, Datu. It’s time to gather your officials. Let’s catch the tiger in your house.”

  The girl stepped closer to him, more elegant than any noble he had seen, and when she walked past him, he found himself turning his head.

  The girl turned around. “I said, let’s gather your officials.”

  Her voice was still smooth, yet he could hear an edge to it, like the one Official Hagibis had when he’d pretended to be kind in front of other people. Kisig followed the girl without thinking critically until they reached the meeting hall.

  The meeting hall wasn’t as gruesome as the outside. No corpse lay in sight, but he knew it hadn’t been less violent. Ashes scattered everywhere, hiding the blood underneath. It was Tala’s killing ground.

  Only one chair occupied the stage. On the floor behind the chair lay the spear that the girl had used in the Priestess Trials. Kisig wondered for a moment if the girl would take the seat, but she only stood next to it.

  Officials arrived at the meeting hall slowly, closing the door as each of them entered. The silence was unbearable, so Kisig focused on each of the officials’ appalled expressions as they stared at Tala beside him. Nobody dared speak.

  “One of you had a really interesting talk with Daa,” Tala said.

  The officials looked at each other. The tension rose, making Kisig wish he weren’t sitting in front of Tala.