Priestess Awakened

by Foxglove, Lidiya

  And when he placed the stone against my pelvis area, just above the edge of my panties, the sigil glowed. Heat flared in my core in a way I idly thought would probably be awesome for menstrual cramps. And I felt everything in my being drawing closer to him. He was a part of me, and I was a part of him. I didn’t have to worry whether or not he liked me, because I knew he loved me, the way you loved things that were a part of you, that belonged to you. He had to love me. That could have been a weird thought, but in the moment, it was comforting. I could skip all the part where I wondered whether I could trust him, and just…know.

  The warmth died, and he lifted the stone as if to put it around my own neck. My eyes followed the stone dangling there and my hand darted out, like a cat enticed by a toy. I touched my fingers to the skin of his wrist.

  “Phoebe…” He caught my hand in his.

  “You feel the connection too, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  “You can touch me,” I said. The words just spilled out. So much for acting cool.

  “It’s—only the first night,” he said.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  He handed me back my shift, but he kept looking at me for another moment.

  Maybe I wasn’t his type. I knew I was reasonably cute, to have been selected for a troupe, but I certainly wasn’t immune to insecurities. I had kind of a round face and big eyes, so I sometimes I thought I looked more like a baby animal than a beautiful woman. And while most people up in the north were fair, my hair was a deep, thick black that was almost blue.

  “Your father wasn’t from around here, was he?” Forrest asked, like he was reading my mind.

  “No.”

  “The townsfolk told me he died when you were a little girl.”

  “I barely remember him,” I said.

  “Was he from Rungenold, I suppose? With that hair?”

  “He’s a mystery,” I said, although he wasn’t really. I knew the pedestrian basics of his life, but I preferred imagining that he’d lied to my mother and he was actually a secret prince or sorcerer or famous author or something.

  “He was a merchant, wasn’t he, who came to trade in Istim and ended up noticing your mother?”

  “Well, I don’t know why you’re asking me if you obviously already know,” I said, irritated.

  Yes, my father, in fact, sold pots and pans from town to town. We had a new pots-and-pans guy nowadays, and it was hard for me not to associate my father with the stooped guy who came once a year calling out in a screechy voice, “Pots, pots, pots, and pans, pans, pans! Snap ‘em up, get ‘em now, while you can!” Although Mom assured me my father was very handsome when he sang his pots and pans song and that was probably where I’d gotten my performance talents from.

  I remembered him, just a little. He was handsome, I think. More than that, I remember that I felt safe around him. I remembered his tall presence, his hands sharpening tools in the evening, his voice, low and soft. I would hear him talking with my mother after one of them tucked me into bed.

  “We should get some sleep,” Sir Forrest said, his own voice more sharp than my father’s, but just as low and rather pleasing. “Long day tomorrow. We want to reach your next guardian as soon as we can.”

  Chapter Four

  The world was a really big place, and we could only move so fast without being able to change horses, the way the dance troupes did. So it still took five whole days before we were even close to my next guardian, although we were lucky in that we only encountered a few monsters in between. I could hardly believe it, but I was starting to get used to seeing a monster or two on the road. The Monster Cleaver lived up to its name, again and again.

  One day, four monsters came slinking and limping out of the brush. Even the limping ones were fast. I clutched Wretch, who was twisting and growing in my arms, scratching me up.

  “Calm down!” I snapped, watching Forrest try to manage four monsters at once. One went down quickly even as another crawled toward the horse. This monster was low-slung, with a crooked tail, slithering on its belly almost like a snake. The horse edged back, snuffling. I couldn’t do much about the horse because I was too busy trying to contain Wretch.

  “Forrest!” I screamed as the monster came too close.

  He took care of the second monster and lunged, striking the monster dead, while another one leapt onto his back. I screamed again. That was how monsters could overwhelm a man, getting him from behind. Forrest struggled, trying to shake it off. He reached back and the monster snapped at his hand, scratching him, but Forrest pulled out a dagger from his boot and jabbed that at the beast, stabbing it inside the mouth. From there, the monster let go and Forrest dispatched it easily.

  It took me forever to stop shaking after that.

  The good thing about my next guardian was, I could sense him, and he seemed to be getting closer to us as we drew closer to him. Sir Forrest suspected our paths would cross up ahead in the city of Empero.

  The bad thing was, as we got closer to Empero, we started passing people on the road more often. Mostly soldiers. We hadn’t seen anyone from the Black Army itself—they were the most elite group—but Sir Forrest tensed whenever anyone appeared in the distance.

  We would pass them. Forrest would nod.

  “Seen any monsters?” he would say.

  Sometimes they would say no. Other times yes, and I would be more anxious than before. “That’s very risky, escorting a lady alone,” the soldiers would tell him, without fail.

  Forrest would shrug. Sometimes one escort was all a person could afford. They would wish us luck and move on.

  Between a high-strung cat and a high-strung man, I took it upon myself to be the chill member of the party. This was no easy act, because our accommodations usually left a lot to be desired. Some of the safe houses were pretty grungy. The cots were creaky and the rooms were cold and we had to subsist on beans and porridge, plus whatever vegetables I could scrounge up. I was used to a lot more luxury. I got a pretty nice bonus of gilden from being a Strawberry Girl, and at home I had a feather bed.

  Plus, I read the whole book from cover to cover, facing up to my future duties, and…holy sacred stones.

  Basically, my whole body was a vessel of potent magical power I could give to my guardians. The book suggested I should take it slow at first, just one or two guys at a time—you know, like that was no big deal. Supposedly as I gained more practice with that, I would be able to grant them all sorts of special powers so that eventually, the five of us could defend the gate against an entire army. Culminating in the Grand Quintet.

  The Grand-fucking-Quintet.

  Like, literally.

  I was supposed to be able to join with all four guardians at once. I wouldn’t have even know how to do it if the book hadn’t provided me a helpful visual. Each sigil corresponded to each guardian’s “channel”. So basically, my body was covered in magical marks that told my guardians where to stick it. And it said the expenditure of my power would be so great after this ultimate joining that I probably wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for a week afterward.

  I felt like I was really getting the lousy end of the deal here.

  Being pledged to Sir Forrest for the rest of my life? I thought I could handle that. The more I considered it, the more it sounded kind of nice. In the short term, he was as fine a man as I’d seen, so lucky me. In the long term, his walls would come down and we’d live happily ever after, right?

  But I wasn’t so sure about having three more guardians. That was a lot of man for one girl to manage. And how would they all get along? Sir Forrest didn’t strike me as a real “go team!” kind of guy, and I had this sense that the third guardian was about a hundred times more intense, and the first guardian wasn’t much for trusting strangers. I guess it was a good thing the second guardian had the closest proximity, but it made me pretty nervous that I sensed he was in some kind of danger. What if he died before we reached him? Then I would never be
able to come into my full powers.

  Supposing this all did work out (and that seemed unlikely to me), my only job was going to basically be some kind of magical whore to four guys that I expected would all hate each other. I didn’t get to do any of the cool stuff myself.

  Sir Forrest caught me scowling over the pages in front of the fire at the safe house just before we reached Empero.

  “I told you not to read it,” he said. “It’s better to focus on one step at a time and not consider the breadth of your duties. First, we find your guardians. If we can’t manage that, the rest is moot.”

  “‘The breadth of my duties’?” I said. “My duties are stupid and embarrassing. I don’t really do anything. I have all this power, apparently, but all I get to do is give it to you. When I was in the troupe, I was the star.”

  The corners of his mouth briefly quirked into a smile. “You are still the star, if anyone is. But you’re a priestess now. Not a performer. No one’s going to watch. Thank the gods for that. If we make it to the end of this road, the people will revere you.”

  I opened it to a picture of four men lifting their hands to create a tornado that was sweeping up a pack of monsters. “I want to do that. Not this.” I turned to the next page, which was the “Trine of Endurance”—a cock in the ass and a cock in the mouth. Endurance indeed. More like the Trine of Sucks-to-Be-Me. “I’m never doing this.”

  “I would never force you,” he said. “But I didn’t write the book either. I don’t know why you’re complaining to me.”

  “I don’t have anyone else to complain to. Plus, you could say something a little more reassuring.”

  “Like what?” he snapped, putting down his sword and sharpening stone. “Do you think I like the idea of all this? It would be one thing if you were mine alone, but I am a loner. I’m not thrilled that I have to share you. To be honest—” He stopped.

  “What? Be honest. Please.”

  “As I’ve waited out these years, I’ve sometimes wished the other three guardians would have died in the meantime.” He shook his head. “It’s a terrible thought. I don’t mean it. And I know I can’t handle this alone. But I can’t help my mind traveling to dark places, once in a while.”

  I warmed, scooting closer to him on the log bench. “Forrest…”

  “No.” He held up a glove at me. “Don’t give me those eyes.”

  “Which eyes?”

  “The soft ones. I’m a shitty guardian.”

  “Oh, come on. You aren’t. You’ve been protecting me, and I’m still alive.” I tried to unsoften my eyes. “I like that you don’t really want to share me with anyone else. Of course, like anyone, I imagined I’d get married someday. We’d court slowly, with plenty of romantic gestures along the way, and then I’d say my vows to him and pledge myself to him alone, and he’d say the same thing to me. Instead, the other night the sigil was overcoming me and making me want to be with you when we don’t even know each other, and I have to be with four people, and I don’t get to choose at all…” I swallowed. I realized I was more upset about all this than I wanted to admit. My dreams of what love should look like had been shattered.

  “I imagined the same thing you did,” he said, almost curtly. “But this is what we’ve got. It’s about more than us.”

  “I know.” I looked down.

  He got back to sharpening the sword. I gazed into the fire, watching the embers pop and the heat glow different colors, as I listened to the steady sound of blade against stone. Wretch settled into my lap.

  “Priestesses can’t get pregnant,” I said, flipping through the pages that told me everything my future held. The bearers of the sigils—the guardians—will not produce a child, so intercourse may be freely undertaken without having to manage pregnancy. The priestess must not be distracted by earthly responsibility. “So I’ll never have a family either. Everything’s been decided for me. My life’s work, my home, my partners, and—that too.”

  “I know,” he said again, more rough than before.

  I spread my hands, a small surrender. The book was like a third member of the conversation, one we couldn’t argue against. “You wanted kids too, huh?” I said.

  He jabbed the fire with a stick, stirring the ashes.

  “Phoebe,” Forrest said, after a moment. “You know, I think I might have tried to court you even if I hadn’t been waiting for your powers to awaken.”

  “Really?” I was genuinely surprised.

  “Sure, I mean—you know more of the world than most girls. And you balance me out with your flippant nature.”

  “Well, I don’t know about flip—”

  “And you’re not ugly,” he said.

  “Oh please, I bet that’s what you tell all the girls, Mr. Sweet Talker,” I said drily.

  He looked at me quietly for a moment, until I felt silly for making a joke, because it was plain that he thought I was actually beautiful, but he had trouble saying so for some reason.

  “Okay, enough of the gushy stuff,” I said, getting embarrassed. “I know it makes you uncomfortable. We can talk knight stuff now. So, how about that sharp sword, huh? Looking good. Looking really shiny. Pointy, too.”

  He laughed low, the sound making my stomach twist with desire. “Nice try. But how about this? In Empero, I’ll get you a blade of your own. If this is to be our fate, we should fight for it. We should make it our own.”

  Chapter Five

  Empero was named to honor—big surprise—the Emperor. The first emperor of Capamere, born here as a mere baron. He was a second cousin or something to the king at the time, but worked his way to the throne through a series of unfortunate deaths that sounded fairly legitimate, but in light of this new revelation that the emperors had been killing priestesses for over a century, I had to wonder.

  Empero was an old city on the White Canal, flowing up from Capamere to the interior of the continent. It was flanked by mountains to the east and had many old, elegant buildings with very tall towers. Big cities were really built up in the past century because of the monsters. Everything had to fit within the gates. It wasn’t uncommon for people to walk up eight flights of stairs to their home. You got a nice view from almost any part of the city, from what I remembered.

  The sigil between my breasts was growing warmer. We were getting very close to finding my second guardian. I didn’t feel ready. But I couldn’t help being excited, too.

  When we came through the gates, there seemed to be some kind of celebration going on. Everyone was waving the flags of the empire and the restaurants were packed, with rousing music spilling into the streets. I still sensed some fear coming from my guardian, and I wondered why. The city seemed to be partying. It certainly didn’t feel dangerous.

  “That looks fun,” I said, pointing at a place called Winter’s Rest. “I bet that’s run by a girl from one of the Winter Girl troupes. Once a troupe girl, always a troupe girl.” It would be nice to find another—I tried hard not to think “washed up singer”, but it was there—and reminisce.

  “Do you still sense him?” Sir Forrest asked.

  “Yes—but it is hard to pin the feeling down with so many people around… He’s ahead. In that crowd, maybe.”

  As we were heading to the town center, people were swarming the streets in such numbers that we couldn’t get through on horseback. We had to stop at an inn and stable the horse first. Sir Forrest agreed, begrudgingly, that we could stay at Winter’s Rest, but he didn’t allow me any time to say hello to the proprietor.

  Now we could make our way through the crowds on foot. Sir Forrest was trying to be inconspicuous about it. Guards were posted absolutely everywhere. But he was intimidating enough that a lot of people got out of his way the second they noticed he was coming up behind them, and so we slowly reached the square.

  “A projection!” I exclaimed, delighted. We never got projections in Istim.

  Back during the Sun Era, towns had newspapers. But when the monsters came and trade became more difficul
t, the newspapers could no longer get paper or ink to publish regularly, and news traveled more slowly too. Eventually all the newspapers shut down except the central one in the capital, and we didn’t get it very often. The big cities got projections for really important news. Mages captured images of important stuff happening in a projection glass and then it could be shown to crowds. They could only catch a few minutes, and there was no sound, but it was still a huge thrill to see actual images of battles and imperial events.

  A big white sheet was pinned up between two trees and the crowds were especially thick around it, but you didn’t have to get too close to see the projection. It showed the Black Army storming through castle gates, cutting down monsters and warriors in elegant armor and blue and white tunics. The image suddenly cut to a beautiful lady with long black hair in a white gown slowly sinking to her knees before a tall, dark-haired man standing in front of a throne.

  “No…,” Sir Forrest breathed beside me. I’m not even sure how I heard him over all the noise.

  “What’s happening?”

  “That’s Gaermon Castle. That’s the Gaermon princess. May Abel rot in hell with demons dancing on his entrails!”

  “Wow,” I said, because that was quite an image. “Is that him?” The images kept repeating over and over. Every time I saw it, I noticed more and more how frightened the beautiful lady looked, although she was obviously trying to be brave. The final image showed Abel presenting a crown to Emperor Leonidas. Every time the images shifted, people cheered.

  “Yes. This means Gaermon has fallen to him.” He shut his eyes. “So that’s that. The Black Army will be coming home. I’d hoped we could get farther before that happened.”

  My nerves wound a little tighter. I knew Forrest had been banking on the distraction of the Black Army this whole time.

  “I’ve seen enough of that,” Sir Forrest said, turning from the screen. He put a solid hand on my back. “Do you still sense him near?”