Children of the Prime Box Set

by T. C. Edge

  The crowds gasp audibly from below, a hush following. And then, like the sound of thunder growing stronger at it draws near, their voices join as one again in celebration and awe.

  The Overseer, to my side, looks on at me fondly. I find myself turning around to others. Perses, smiling paternally, though with a caution in his eyes to not overindulge, to not lose myself to this material feeling of, as yet, unearned respect and adoration. Elian, grinning, his own robes flaming a little brighter in vicarious pride. The other Heralds of War, gathered close around me, showing expressions of admiration at the control and ferocity of my powers. Others of the Chosen doing the same; Lady Dianna, fastest among us, Atlas, the strongest, largest man surely in existence.

  And then, of course, I find the Prime standing to the rear. My Mother and Father. Parents to us all. Perfect.

  They do as they always do, and I feel as I always feel when looking upon them. With radiant smiles, and kind eyes, a swelling of joy grows within me. My conviction solidifies further. The smallest cracks of doubt within me seal up. The sounds of the crowd dull a little in my ears, and the mists begin to gather once more just below me, closing off the steps.

  Tonight, across the city, they will celebrate, a combined reverie to honour my special moment, and the sending off of those who will march to war. The thousands of men and women set to leave the city walls will be given this night to say goodbye to their families, to drink and be merry before morning comes and they set their minds to other concerns. Others will be given no such respite; all over the city, many continue to make final preparations, fitting out the carriages, preparing the rations, weapons, armour. A long march to war requires many moving parts, and the intention is to move quickly.

  Haven grows stronger by the day, licking its wounds, recovering from its recent conflict. The longer we allow them to do so, the more difficult our task becomes.

  And so tonight, I will enjoy a drink or two. I will share words with my new brethren here upon the hill. I will descend, foolish as that might be, to find my sister among the masses. I will tell her goodbye, and not to fear. That I will return soon, and unscathed.

  Her sister, Herald of War, will not suffer a scratch. Words to sooth her. Words that, seeing the combined might of this city, I am perhaps starting to believe.

  And in that, I surely remain a fool.

  64

  The morning brings with it a sore head that speaks of my overindulgence. I can only imagine that many thousands across the city are nursing similar afflictions.

  It brings, too, a familiar and friendly face, sitting happily beneath a bald head and moderately handsome, if simple, visage. Through the door - I must have missed him knocking - comes High Worthy Marlow with a much needed pot of coffee and a sampling of breads, spreads, and fruits on a tray. He shuffles forwards with his usual energy, setting the tray down, and hastily setting about pouring me a cup and buttering me a slice of something that looks rather delicious.

  "Morning, Herald Amber," he says, suppressing his own awe-struck grin at uttering the title. His eyes set upon mine like a hound hunting down poultry. "How are you feeling?" he utters with a knowing grin.

  My words don't come out properly. They're more a croak than proper diction. "Like I've just been through a war, rather than about to march to one," I say, happy enough with the content of my response, if not its delivery.

  Marlow laughs, serving me my breakfast. "Not surprising. You did get back rather late."

  "I did?" I ask, trying to recall. My mind swirls with faint memories of large, bustling crowds, a great deal of praise and kind words, and a whole lot of laughing. The latter, I know, came courtesy of Lady Felina and my sister, the three of us once again blurring the lines of propriety and rank as we enjoyed a good fun evening in Felina's lovely apartment.

  "Indeed," Marlow says. "I came to collect you under instruction from High Worthy Kitchener. Don't you remember? I was quite surprised. I assumed you'd be staying in your new accommodation up on the hill."

  I scrunch my eyes. "Sure," I say, trying to save some grace. "I blame Felina. I can't drink like she can."

  "She has a strong constitution for the stuff, as far as Kitchener tells me. I am aware, however, of a quick fix that will avail you, my Lady."

  I look up at him with blood-stained, bleary eyes, the blankets of my bed all askew. "Please...enlighten me," I croak, rubbing my forehead.

  "Well, fire burns just about anything, am I correct?" he says. "Perhaps a little flush through the blood would do you some good."

  I frown, considering it. Worth a go, I guess.

  Slipping uneasily from my bed - Marlow, of course, turns away as I do, despite the fact that I'm still wearing my ceremonial Fire-Blood robes beneath the covers - I take position in an open space in the room and shut my eyes. Narrowing my focus, I open the taps just a little, and let the fires inside me roll warmly through my veins. The effect, to my great surprise, is immediate.

  Within only a few moments, my robes are glowing brighter and the feeling of lethargy in my body and dull discomfort in my head is fading fast. A second later, it's gone entirely, as if I'd never drunk a drop.

  A grin erupts on my face. "Great tip, Marlow!" I announce, the croak to my voice also hastily departing. "Um, you can turn around now. I'm fully dressed."

  He does so, though sheepishly.

  "This is great," I go on, perhaps too excited by this revelation. "I can put whatever I want in my body and I'll just be able to burn it off. No wonder Fire-Bloods are always so slim!"

  "Some would call that a superpower in itself," grins Marlow.

  "Yeah. I kinda feel sorry for Felina now. A hungover's gotta be nightmarish with her eyesight."

  "Well, why not find out for yourself," Marlow says.

  Once more, I frown. "I don't have time," I say, mind spinning off again to what is set to be a rather big day. Later this afternoon, the army is set to march. I imagine it'll be a fairly miserable day for a number of soldiers, and it's highly unlikely that Perses will suffer any further imbibing of this degree on the road. One final night to loosen the shackles is fine. Once we leave the city, however, it'll be business all the way.

  "It shouldn't take long," Marlow tells me. He smiles again. "You don't remember having company on the journey home last night?"

  The memory takes a few moments to clear. That of Felina and Lilly refusing to part with me, jumping into the carriage after me, and demanding, once more against rank, that they see my own apartment. Now, of course, it's only really my second apartment, the first and foremost of my new properties being the simply astonishing one perched up on top of the hill.

  The resurfacing memory sets me on my way out of my room, Marlow quickly directing me to one of the many guest rooms down a wing of the property I'm almost ashamed to say I haven't yet visited. There, I find Felina sprawled across a grandly adorned bed, her beautiful blue dress haphazardly arranged, a half drunk glass of wine set upon the bedside table.

  In another part of the room, a large sofa sits with blankets and bedding neatly folded on top of it, the cushions plump and perfectly positioned. In one corner, Lilly sits politely, knees together, book in her lap, complexion appearing as youthful and clear as always.

  Her golden eyes turn to mine as I enter, bright as the morning sunshine. Unlike the two of us degenerates, Lilly didn't drink, aside from a small glass that Felina insisted she enjoy when making one of her many, many toasts.

  "You look better than she does," Lilly says, standing and moving over to me, glancing at her mistress. "I tried making her comfortable several times, but she just kept shifting back into that position. I don't get it, personally."

  "Well, she looks just fine to me," I chuckle, seeing the ungainly posture Felina finds herself in. Quite unbecoming of a Primary Farsight, for sure, though another comfort for my own eyes. She is so just so wonderfully human in her faults, as well as her wildly charming personality. A perfect foil, perhaps, for my sister, in showing her the truth of the
nature of the Children of the Prime. And, as a pleasant side-effect, she might just help to loosen Lilly up too.

  Lilly, well, she's always so prim and proper, and so doesn't raise quite the same smile as mine as I look fondly upon her mistress. She certainly enjoyed herself last night, but seeing Felina in this state probably wasn't something she expected from a highly ranked Olympian.

  "She could probably use some coffee," Marlow says a little more concernedly, turning to move off.

  "Just bring the one from my room," I tell him. "Plenty to go around."

  He nods and departs, returning a few moments later with all the goodness of the hearty breakfast he brought me only minutes ago. The rich smell of the coffee seems to have some impact. No sooner has he walked through the door as Felina is stirring, rising like a zombie from the dead. She turns, sits up, rubs her eyes, and comes quickly back to life.

  "Yes please Marlow," she says, her voice croak-less and cleaner than it should be. "Nice and strong. No milk or sugar."

  He obeys, presenting her her order, which she gulps down quickly, breathing out with great relief. A bit of rearrangement of her hair and robes, and she's looking almost back to normal. Evidently this isn't her first rodeo.

  She walks over to me with a smile, and I see Lilly begin to relax a little, happy to see her mistress put herself back in order so quickly. I'm drawn into a brief hug, reminding me of the many we shared last night, the alcohol making us overly emotional.

  "This is just why we chased you home," Felina says, smiling towards Lilly. "To see you off this morning, and to make the most of last night. We did that, didn't we ladies? And what fun it was."

  Lilly smiles coyly, nodding. My faded memory attempts to keep up, bringing back further recollections that continue to rise like bubbles from the bottom of a pond, popping into existence in my head.

  One has my lips creasing into a particular expression of delight and triumph, though a part of me doubts whether it happened at all. It certainly seems like more of a fantasy of mine, something conjured during my drunken stupor.

  "Did we...run into Collector Ceres last night?" I ask, peering at my companions for confirmation.

  Both Lilly and Felina grin broadly, the latter swigging on her coffee, the colour quickly returning to her cheeks.

  "We most certainly did," Felina says. "Perhaps the highlight of the evening, wouldn't you say Lilly?"

  "It was...pretty funny," my sister says coyly.

  "Pretty funny? On no, seeing that little worm of a man squirm like that was much more than funny," retorts Felina. "It was pure brilliance on your part, Amber. A fabulous show on the day of your inauguration."

  "Seems you remember what happened better than I do," I say, trying to put the pieces together. "It was quite early, wasn't it? Down in the main square?"

  "Yes..." says Felina, showing off a half smile. "I recall every detail fondly. Would you like a full telling?"

  I draw a long breath and nod. Felina smiles, leads myself and Lilly over to the sofa, sets us down, and dives swiftly into her recount.

  By the time she's told of the entire tale, I actually feel almost sorry for the man. Apparently, my run-in with the sanctimonious Collector was a rather public dismantling, a full-blown humiliation of which I'm not completely proud. Oh, Ceres had it coming, that's of little dispute, but I'm not usually the type to dish out such a verbal beating.

  The retelling of the tale, however, has Felina laughing, Marlow smirking secretly from the doorway, and Lilly attempting to hide her own grin, ever afraid to show disdain for any Son or Daughter, no matter who they are. For my part, my joy is somewhat stifled by the poor taste of it all. Apparently, aside from listing Ceres's many indiscretions over the years, I even forced him to drop to his knees and genuflect for my pleasure. Given our mutual rank, he had no option but to comply.

  No, I'm not proud of that at all. That is not how I want to use my power and title...

  I decide, then, to move the conversation away, focusing on the more positive aspects of the evening we shared. Once more, I find myself thanking the Prime that I get to spend this time with my sister, a boon to accompany my imminent parting.

  And with some time left before I'm required to leave, we end up spending the morning together once more, our little band of three tucking into Marlow's delicious breakfast, gulping down his coffee, and speaking without restraint about topics that don't just skip upon the surface of propriety and etiquette, but delve deep into the fears and concerns we hold for this city and these lands, the dangerous path we're setting off to tread.

  Last night, such subjects were glanced towards but never stared directly at. We chose, instead, to fill the night with joy and laughter, and sidestep the grander issues that, evidently, are playing on all our minds. It was an evening of frivolity and even silliness, a wine-fuelled night to send me off on my way. Yet that morning, with the cold light of day laying our concerns bare, we speak honestly of what lies ahead. And Felina, above all, shows herself to be particularly perturbed.

  Always so fun and full of laughter, she speaks with a seriousness and candour I haven't yet seen from her. Keen eyes narrowing, and eyebrows falling, she shakes her head and looks out of the window, the view from this side of the apartment showing the south side of the city, the grand walls and mighty facade giving way to the endless plains beyond.

  "I don't like the way things are going," she says sombrely, looking out. She stands and moves closer, her eyes gazing towards the main entrance, where hundreds of soldiers mill about, and large transports, much bigger than those I've so far seen, grind out through the portcullis and gate beyond, rumbling onto the plains where other military units await them.

  I find myself by Felina's side, gazing upon the spectacle far below, my eyes unable to pick up the same details as hers can. She shakes her head gently, a strange expression of sorrow on her face.

  "I wonder how many will return?" she ponders softly, eyes scanning, perhaps memorising the features of many brave men and women far below. "How many will leave these walls and never come back?"

  I glance back at Lilly, still over by the sofa. I smile gently to ease the look of worry in her eyes. I will come back, that smile says. Don't worry about me, Lillypad. You never have to worry about your big sis.

  I turn back, once again, to view the scene below. Felina continues to stare down, taken by a sudden melancholy.

  "You don't believe in this war, do you?" I ask her quietly, giving voice to the doubts that swirl somewhere distant within my own subconscious. "You don't think we should be marching."

  She delays a moment, before shaking her head a single time. "I'm a pacifist, Amber. You may not have thought that about me, but it's true. I'm not so naive as to think that war is always avoidable, but in this case I can't figure a need for it. There must be a way of resolving this problem without resorting to violence. It seems as though no thought has been given to diplomacy. It seems," she says, eyes lowering further, "that they want war upon the hill."

  I nod unexpectedly as she speaks, finding myself in agreement.

  "You were there," she continues, turning to face me. "Was there much of a debate, any challenge at all to this course of action? Did any speak out against this path?"

  "It wasn't a debate," I tell her honestly. "There was no discussion to be had. It was just...an explanation, really. The decision had already been made."

  Felina nods gently, almost acceptingly. "If it is the Prime's will, then who am I to doubt it," she says. "They must have considered all options closely. We have lived in peace here for many years. I suppose...I suppose they wouldn't direct us down this road unless they were certain it was the only way."

  "That's what I believe," I say, my words coming with a little more fervour. "Perses described it to me as a simple matter of timing. War will come to us, or we will bring it to them; one way or another, it's going to happen." I shrug. "This way, at least, we can keep the fighting far from our lands."

  "I suppose so," sa
ys Felina, sighing. "I just don't advocate the taking of life unless it's essential. It all just seems so...rushed. But," she says, beginning to nod, "as I say, this is the path the Prime have chosen, and so we must trust it. None of us are wise enough to see all ends as they can. I just...." She shakes her head now, turning away, and seals her lips shut.

  "What?" I ask, probing. "You're obviously conflicted, Felina."

  "No, no," she says briskly, her tone infused with a note of awkwardness, as though she's suppressing something that might be considered heretical, against the status quo. "It's nothing, really."

  "Felina, you can speak plainly with me," I say. "Come on, look at my past. I'm hardly the model citizen. I've had my fair share of renegade thinking , haven't I? Isn't freedom of speech permitted here?"

  She smiles knowingly. "My only answer to that is - 'sort of'. And perhaps you weren't the model citizen, but you're getting there now, Amber. Your previous thinking was understandable given your background. I have no such platform to speak out against any of this as you did."

  "And that's what you want?" I ask. "To speak out against the Prime?"

  Her eyes open up, aghast. "Oh, heavens no!" she says. "I speak honestly when I say that their choice of path must be correct. My only concern is in the loss of life, that's all, and the hastiness of it all. I don't want to see my brothers and sisters killed. Nor, if I'm being completely honest, would I enjoy hearing of the deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands of Havenites."

  "You're not alone there," I say. "I think the same, Felina. And so does Perses, truth be told."

  "Really? He does?"

  "Sure. He's very sage and discerning in his thinking, you know. He really cares about human life. Not just those here in Olympus, but the people of the Fringe too. And even beyond. I guess he's like you in that way."