by Shakyra Dunn
Leilana waited for night to fall before she gathered her totems and brought them to an altar hidden deep within the walls of Magiten Academy. Few students were able to return to home base and pray there, offering themselves to the Warlords, but she supposed that even without magic as a guide, there was no harm in trying to ask them for one more favor.
* * *
By the northern lights, we wait, calling to thee.
By blessed shadow, we pray, seeking truth and resolution.
By sacred divinity, we act, basking in glory, whisked away into solitude.
She laid out her treasured six totems. From the bane of friendship, a silver pendant tied to two bonded souls for all eternity. For kindness, a beaded pearl necklace as a reminder from the girl that never failed to put others above herself by giving them laughter. Born of generosity, a pressed, wilted flower left as a memento of a girl with a voice that rang through the heavens. After pushing through boundaries for understanding, a crystal shard from the world’s weapon abandoned like her cherished prince’s voice. Through faith and trust, love blossomed and took shape with a red ribbon of fate. Beyond the virtues of passion, her destiny was hidden within the pages of her only remaining tie to her home.
“Warlords of Old,” she spoke, laying her hands on the shrine’s tombstone. “I ask not for magic nor your blessing. I merely seek hope. I may never reclaim what has been lost to me, but I pray that you can offer what is lost to the world back. Adrylis deserves to change. They deserve the chance to believe in what you have to offer us. I send my totems to you as a tribute and testament to what is necessary. Please, guide us home again.”
When she received no answer, she didn’t lose her resolve. She stood up, prepared to leave when she heard the totems suddenly shift direction. She whirled around in time to see them merge in place with her grimoire. The pressed flower became a bookmark, the pendant, shard, and beads shaping into a collection of charms, hanging from the red ribbon that wrapped around the grimoire. Leilana picked up the grimoire, holding it close to her.
“Thank you. I’ll hold on to this and carry on your wisdom.”
When she stepped out of the shrine, she found Hilda waiting outside. She was about to speak up, but her former teacher beat her to the punch.
“I know you’re supposed to return home tomorrow morning, but there was something that the council members and I wanted to bring to your attention.” She held out a booklet to her, and Leilana read the cover over several times before meeting Hilda’s gaze again.
“‘Magiten Academy Faculty Handbook?’ I-I don’t understand, Miss Hilda. You want me to become a faculty member? But my magic is-”
“We aren’t interested in your magic. You inspire people, Leilana. That’s something the rest of these students need. You’ve experienced the world, and you’ve made changes far beyond our expectations. We know that you are set to live in the kingdom, maybe even become queen someday, but we’d like you to consider doing this, at least on the side. We’d love to have you.”
Leilana smiled gently, holding the books close to her. “I’ll do some thinking on it once I’m back home and send you a message with my answer. Solus would love to hear about this in person too. Is that all right?”
“Of course,” Hilda beamed. “Think really hard!”
“Thank you so much, for everything. I never imagined that I’d be granted such an opportunity. It’s all so surreal.”
“Hard work pays off, sweetness. Always remember that. Now, off to bed with you, your carriage to Mithra will be driving in bright and early!” Leilana giggled. Bright and early, just as she was used to.
Leilana wasn’t afraid to admit that she loved the idea of having a carriage ride all the way to Mithra before she could take a boat back to Kinsley and return to Linmus. But as she continued down the gravelly road, gazing out of the open curtain, she found that an undeniable aura was tugging at her. It had been tailing her from the moment that she set foot in Kalonia and hailed the first carriage under orders from the High Council in Magiten. For all of the power that she had lost, she could still sense magical energy being harnessed from every corner of the world. Her connection to the mystics could still be ascertained.
“Tell me something,” Leilana addressed the driver, who briefly glanced back at her. “Do you know of any prolific denizens in this land? Maybe a deity, or a well-known scholar?”
“We’re on the borders of Durima,” the driver concluded. “I know of stories, but I don’t know how true that they ring or how useful they may be to you, my Lady.”
“Anything would be of use,” Leilana insisted.
“I hear in this country, there is an elderly woman that resides in a temple. She is fabled in scholar reports, but no one has actually come in contact with her.”
“Can you drop me off in Durima?” Leilana asked. “I would like to investigate this fable for myself.”
“But, my Lady, I was told to drive you to Mithra-”
“I can get myself there and to Kinsley. It will just take me a bit longer to return to my kingdom. You can hold on to the advanced payments. I will say nothing if you don’t.” The driver inhaled deeply before ushering his horse to turn to the right and continue down a different path, where they would be led to the village of Durima.
After some time, the carriage pulled to a stop on an open sandy road, where no trees or visible landscapes acted as a guide. Leilana clutched her grimoire as she gazed forward, listening to the horse’s hooves begin to patter against the ground, drifting further and further away from her. From here on, she would be standing completely alone.
Walking endlessly in flat-heeled shoes on slippery sand did a number on her bunions, but if there was some method she could use to reclaim her magic and save Solus some grief from having to sacrifice his own to secure the kingdom, so be it. There needed to be more hope to spread after the war’s end, and she could provide it. She swore that several hours had passed her by before she finally found some signs of land, evidenced by crumbled stone and tattered flags. Maybe the war stretched further than she initially believed.
Atop one of the vast sand dunes sat a temple, devoid of essence and prosperity. The front entrance was as broken down as the landscape surrounding it, but from a distance, she was able to spot an elderly woman seated in the center of the temple grounds. Her grey hair was littered with dirt and grime, her clothes in tatters. Leilana was hesitant to approach her, but if opportunity was set to arise from a simple hello, she would be honored to achieve it.
“Ah, Minsura’s Princess,” the elder lady’s scraggly inflection uttered in place of Leilana’s own forming words, which left her rather baffled. The woman hadn’t opened her eyes or moved a muscle from her uncomfortable place atop a stone block. It didn’t take Leilana more than a few seconds to process that she was meditating, her focus unwavering even after a seemingly unfamiliar guest had donned their graces on her.
“Hello,” Leilana responded calmly.
“You are a long way from Linmus, dear. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
If looks could kill, this woman would surely have struck her dead the moment her eyes opened to look upon Leilana. Her irises were void, a silver coat enhancing them. Leilana peered closer to find that the woman was refusing to blink, as though she couldn’t. She reached up a hand to wave in front of her, and still no reaction.
“If you are trying to draw my attention, I implore you to cease your attempts, malady. I cannot see your hand, but I can sense its movement.” Leilana slowly lowered her hand, taken aback by the woman’s cold behavior. “You possess a powerful aura, but that is to be expected of the solitary maiden to end a forthcoming war. Now state your purpose.”
“I’ve come in search of answers,” Leilana told her. “I was returning to Linmus, and I sensed your presence. But, I no longer have the Warlords’ blessing through magical growth. I didn’t understand how it was possible.”
“You come to the home of a witch expecting an answer? Foolish, but b
razen.” The woman leaned forward, a crooked smile lining her cracked lips. “I can tell you what you wish, my child. You have lost your magic due to your courageous sacrifice, and now you wonder how you can regain what is missing.”
Leilana lowered her head, unsure of how to continue this one-sided conversation. She was certain that somewhere in his notes, Erya had some documentation on this Blind Witch. She would have to study up on it once she was home safe again. Before she could even muster up an agreement, the Witch had snaked an arm around her shoulders, leaving Leilana both frightened and incredibly confused.
“The lost are never truly lost,” the Witch continued, her voice curling around Leilana’s body like a miasma, pulling her in closer and sucking away her oxygen. “There is a way that you can regain your powers. I can return it to you. But, such an exchange comes with a hefty price. There is something of importance that you must return to me with, Princess Leilana. Would it be worth securing your kingdom for a while yet? Or will you allow yourself to fall to a man’s judgment and let him fulfill what you yourself could do better?”
Somehow, this all seemed familiar. She could faintly recall Lunious mentioning that Ennis had a rather similar mindset—that his kid sister should sit back and let him do all the hard work so that she could live an easier life. But so long as she was alive, her powers would only evolve, and eventually she would have to take manners into her own hands. That didn’t differ any more now than it had nearly a decade ago.
But Solus… Solus was already willing to let her make her own choices on how to make a difference for not only herself, but for the country she was going to rule at his side. Would she have been better off continuing to act in rebellion, standing at the side of a ruler that was born on a different side of the world? They were both guilty of stealing away Remiel’s throne, even if they hadn’t intended such a crime.
“What is this price to pay?” Leilana questioned, her hesitation clear.
“There is a fine bloodline flowing through your veins, and surely the future King will have an even more prosperous one-” Leilana slapped the Witch’s hand as the woman laid a hand on her stomach, snarling at her.
“I’ve read of witches in mere fairytales, and I believe I know the path that you are taking with this ‘negotiation’ of yours. I will not follow through. Thank you for the offer, but I gave up my magic willingly to save Adrylis, and should I recover them by these terms, they must not be worth having.” Leilana turned and started down the stone steps again.
“You are a fool indeed, princess!” the Witch shouted, her tone icier than any winter breeze that Leilana could traverse through. “Your King shan’t guard you from every disaster set to strike you down! You will come to regret turning down my offer!”
Leilana didn’t bother heeding the words of a bitter former Warlord. Her magic was already well fading, her body losing its essence to time. As much as she didn’t want to wish any ill fate on others in her league of magical progression, she wondered if that woman was damning herself by putting her life so close to darker arts.
Solus was a Necromancer, but he seemed to renounce that lineage the moment that he took a spot as Remiel’s close-knit aide. Deep down though, it was likely that he would one day be damned as well. For now, he was safe, but until that day came, she would do everything in her power to protect him as much as he could protect her.
No Witch could ever convince her otherwise.
Leilana couldn’t bring herself to return to Linmus straightaway after leaving Durima. For the first night, she settled in Mithra in a room all to herself and studied her updated grimoire for any new passages that the Warlords may have blessed her with, but she found little substance and all groundbreaking thoughts led her back to the Blind Witch.
How true were her words? What had she been seeking? A life nowhere close to existing in exchange for Leilana’s sacrificed magic? An unborn child, a signification of union between her and Solus. Leilana knew that it would happen somewhere down the line due to how close their bond was, their engagement, and far more that she couldn’t even predict.
Out of sight, out of mind. She couldn’t draw on the thought any longer or it would begin to consume her, and she certainly couldn’t bring it up to Solus any time soon. She would have to focus on the happier aspects of the future. Inheriting a place as a ruler to a kingdom, possibly becoming a teacher for those who sought to better Adrylis.
The world still had a use for her, a princess once considered dead. That alone was promising, something almost guaranteed to secure hope for this fragile life of hers.
The second day didn’t seem much better. She was at least prepared to get on the morning boat to Kinsley but returning there didn’t warrant a desire to stick around for too long. She spoke with some of the remaining residents, who all found out through the grapevine about the state of the world now that a new King would be rising, and one of his first decrees would be to send assistance to those that were affected in pre-war affairs. Kinsley was among the first to receive reformation and new developments, but it would naturally take years before changes would be noticeable to more than those directly in its path.
Leilana wondered how others would be getting along now that the world was shaping anew under new hands.
Nilu was still a ghost town, and there was no indication that those that once resided here would return. The mines were caved in, and Leilana allowed her mind to wander, fixated on Rem. He had lost his life so soon, and he would never get to see his kingdom evolve with his own eyes. Such a realization haunted her for several minutes. She had been the only one of her group not to grieve his loss properly.
She had wanted to wait until she was back in Linmus, basking in the joys that his people provided, the world that he helped to build, but by the time she had reached Olen’s home, she couldn’t hold herself together any longer.
She sat out front, burying her knees against her face. And then, she cried, her sobs withheld, but her pain evident. She couldn’t make a sound. She couldn’t allow too much vulnerability to unleash itself right here. She had less of a right to feel emotional over his death—though she believed that she was close to him, she was never as close as his best friend or the girl that spent every waking moment dreaming of being by his side.
But she still found her purpose while traveling alongside him.
Rem had a penchant for spreading hope to every person he came across. But her unspoken words to him became his most prominent trait. He was the reason why she wanted to come to Adrylis. He was her driving force to become a magic-user, even if Ennis was the first to push her to become a Warlord.
Two important men in her life, both gone, leaving others to carry on for them.
She had no time left to mourn either of them for now, and that was a hard truth to accept. Soon, the days where she could freely cry, freely laugh, and relinquish her freedom would be upon her. Or, so it was made out for her to believe. The life of a queen could differ greatly from a princess’s reign. Having Solus there would ease the slack though. Her first true love, and it was meant to be. How she hoped it would remain that way with the knowledge that romance could be tempting, wistful, and destructive for the faint of heart.
Maybe it was better that she lived a magicless life. She could show the world another side of herself—the girl that sought knowledge and passion above all else.
Leilana watched the morning sun fade behind grey clouds and snowflakes began to scatter about Linmus, blanketing the town in white steadily over half an hour. The townsfolk were bundling themselves up, but they continued their progress of reconstruction with bright smiles and laughter even though the cold air was bitter and beginning to hinder them. She almost envied how much effort they were putting it, but it left her with a fondness that could only be found in the townsfolk she’d come to meet officially later in life.
“Hey, King Solus!” a burly man’s voice called, nearly taking Leilana by surprise. “What should we do about this old shack? Do we keep it runnin
g for someone to claim or tear it down?”
“Nothing gets torn down unless it’s completely irreparable!” Leilana found herself smiling as she watched over her love from afar. Solus was sitting on the roof of a building reading over some old blueprints, clothed in a light blue winter coat, absent of his glasses due to the snow flowing in. “We’re gonna continue this for half an hour more, then we’ll all return home for the night to avoid the storms!”
Leilana removed her hood, walking closer to the building, peering up at him. Solus had an inkling that someone was watching him, and not from the usual antics. When he looked down and found his bride-to-be back from her long journey, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He jumped from his profound height and landed in front of her, not the slightest bit overwhelmed by his shaky knees as he crossed the distance and took her by her hands.
“Welcome home.”
He sat in the courtyard of Magiten Academy and wrote letters to the castle every day. There were many tales that he heard over the years about Adrylis’s near-fatal plunge into corruption, but there were even more chronicles about the agony that the King and Queen endured in their youth, acting as scions to peace, keeping order to the best of their abilities, overcoming the odds.
Aurem Brenner was proud to admit that they were his parents, even if they could be embarrassing at times like any other pair. They were a little too lovey-dovey for his taste, but at least their love gave birth to him and his younger sister Sumina. He supposed that was an upside.
Fifteen years had passed since Hinju Leerus’s fall from grace, and his name became smudged with disgrace. In contrast, his only living son proved his worth as a king. Magiten Academy opened its doors to any and every one that sought to make a change, and Aurem was no different—magicless and refined, one day, he would inherit the throne, but before the day came that he was to control Archbane Castle, he wanted to see all that he could in Adrylis.