The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Four: In the Beginning

by Melissa Collins

  Kaori stared blankly ahead, listening to the continued arguments of those around her. They were afraid. Hesitant. Unsure which decision was in her best interest. Go or stay. There were risks associated with either option. Embarking on a sea voyage while in her condition was dangerous for obvious reasons. Lack of proper medical care. Limited resources if she required medical aid. But Pehrona was the next best thing they had to a doctor and medicine could do little to help a starving body. The greater danger seemed to be in staying. These people in Gavir had no idea who she was or the risk they took in harboring her. Remaining on the mainland increased the possibility of the soldiers locating her – or one of the townspeople discovering her identity and alerting the authorities.

  “Is… Is the boat ready to sail?”

  All eyes turned to look at her, shocked to hear Kaori say anything. “It can be within moments, if a swift departure is required,” Therek replied softly, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing a strand of hair away from Kaori’s face, sending a gentle shiver through her spine. It was odd how his touch affected her. She could feel little else in her numbed and starved state, yet his skin meeting hers felt as plain as if she were seated before her friends in perfect health.

  Unsettled by the sensation Kaori shifted her gaze to stare straight ahead, desperately hoping that Therek hadn’t felt her reaction to his touch. “I have no desire to stay here,” she mumbled. It didn’t matter what danger she faced in making the voyage. She wanted away from Carpaen. Just once she wanted to wake without fear of the soldiers standing over her to take her away.

  “Have you lost your mind?” the barmaid scoffed, brow furrowed as she ceased her work, tossing the bloody rag onto the table in a huff. “Did you hear nothing I said? You will die at sea!”

  “I am at risk on the water. Death is not a guarantee.” Gathering what little of her strength remained, Kaori politely pushed Liurn’s hand away from her mouth where he waited with another spoonful of broth, the chains from her shackles rattling from the motion. Her patience was wearing thin. An overwhelming anxiety to be away from this place created an uncomfortable warmth throughout her body, leaving her desperate to feel the evening air upon her skin once again. To breathe its salty fragrance while boarding the vessel which would take her and her friends to freedom.

  Frustrated, the lady shook her head, moving swiftly from Kaori to stand beside the table, hands on her hips, a stern, disapproving expression upon her sharp features. “Do what you will,” she rolled her eyes heavenward before turning to walk away, throwing her final words over her shoulder like an ominous warning. “Death cares not of your stubbornness. He always gets what he wants – and his hand is heavy upon you.”

  Disturbed by the woman’s words Kaori remained still for a moment. Afraid to move. What if she was making the wrong decision? She didn’t want to die. There was far too much left undone in her life. Her people remained proverbial slaves to Sulel. Counting on her to lead them to victory against their false Emperor. Maybe it is better if I stay…

  Hands were already on her arms, careful not to jostle her as they helped guide her to her feet. Doubt settled on her, quickly transforming into a paralyzing fear, preventing her from moving toward the door at the gentle urging of her friends. “Kaori,” Therek’s voice whispered in her ear, cutting through her panicked thoughts. Frightened, she lifted her gaze to stare into the beautiful azure glow of his eyes, finding a strange solace in their solemn depths, yet not enough to ease the rapid, incessant beat of her heart.

  “What if she is right?” she breathed. Quiet. Airy. Unheard by anyone other than Therek where he stood protectively by her side.

  The usually somber straight line of Therek’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, his hand lifting to gently cup her cheek in his palm to hold her gaze, soft and comforting. “You have no reason to fear the human gods. They cannot touch you,” he replied, his face leaning closer to avoid being heard by anyone else in the tavern. “Regardless of what our society has become, never forget that you are Vor’shai. Sytlea is the only goddess with claims to your soul – and she knows you are destined for greater things in this life before she comes to collect it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Kaori whispered, only somewhat calmed by the thought. All things considered, she wasn’t convinced her soul was safe from the human gods. Sulel succeeded in destroying the identity of the Vor’shai. Forcing them to conform to the religions of the humans and forsake the deities which had protected her people for generations. The world was full of uncertainty and the gods were likely just as confused as to whose soul belonged to whom. There were as few guarantees in death now as there were in life. She just couldn’t let that stop her. Steeling her resolve, she drew in a breath, feeling Therek’s hand slide away from her face. Enough time had been wasted with her foolishness. The barmaid was correct about one thing. Kaori was stubborn. And at the moment she wasn’t prepared to succumb to death at the hands of any god, human or Vor’shai.

  Fever distracted Kaori throughout the voyage to Namorea, consuming her thoughts and focus until she no longer knew how long they’d been at sea. Consciousness was fleeting. When she managed a moment of wakefulness, the world around her was altered. Vague. Distant. Faces lacked clarity as they bustled around her, checking vital signs, applying antiseptics and clean bandages to her wounds. One presence at her side remained constant, his voice muffled from the lightheadedness she suffered. Even with the rapid rhythm of her heart and the chills which racked her body and dulled her senses, she knew it was Therek. His tone was unmistakable. Calm. Levelheaded. Prepared to do anything asked of him to help stabilize her condition.

  The hand which repeatedly returned to check her pulse and temperature was feminine. Gentle. Somewhat frantic at times. Pehrona. She was the only one it could be. But there were other figures which moved in and out of Kaori’s hazy vision that she couldn’t place. Some more familiar than others though names escaped her. She could only assume Liurn was among them. But who were the others? The boat was larger than she expected, requiring more bodies to keep it in motion. Closer to the size of a small ship. Their crew consisted of more people than she thought to find upon reaching Gavir yet she had no idea who any of them were beyond those she’d seen in the tavern when she arrived.

  After so many nights on the cold stone floor of the Imperial Prison, the bed she enjoyed currently was almost uncomfortable. Her back ached. It did nothing to help her relax despite the number of times the voices told her to do so. Maybe if it wasn’t so cold! Her jaw hurt from the constant chatter of her teeth while sweat poured over her skin to soak into the remnants of her dress and the heavy fabric of the blankets heaped upon her.

  Time passed her by, nights blending with days, wakefulness blending with sleep until she couldn’t tell the difference anymore. Every time she opened her eyes she prayed the sickness would subside. She couldn’t let the prophecy of the woman in Gavir come true. They had come so far! If the desert hadn’t claimed her life, she couldn’t let something as small as a fever overcome her. But it wasn’t just a fever. She’d heard the voices speak of infection. Her immune system weakened from dehydration and malnourish-ment. It was bad. She couldn’t know the extent but the words had been repeated many times during her brief moments of clarity. Her condition was worsening. There was little else to be done. It was in Sarid’s hands now.

  When sleep overtook her again it was restless. Filled with feverish nightmares from which she couldn’t escape. Deeper and deeper she fell into the darkness until waking no longer felt possible. She couldn’t feel her body. No longer in control of the muscles. The voices and faces surrounding her faded into nothingness, the final remaining threads which held her to reality seeming to snap, releasing her to the clutches of unconsciousness, and the mercy of her own mind.

  Kaori couldn’t help the shiver which started at the base of her spine to work its way up her back and through her neck. The images she saw before her eyes were disturbing. Blood. Death. Faces of f
riends and family left beaten and broken on a large battlefield which looked to be the remains of what once was the great city of Eykanua, smoke rising from the burned out buildings along the streets. Spatters of blood created a sort of macabre art across the outer walls of the homes and shops which remained. An indication of the battle which had taken place here not long before her arrival.

  Everything around her felt real though oddly detached at the same time. A cool breeze wafted across her face, her eyes closing in blissful appreciation for the reprieve it brought from the heat. Something heavy was clutched tightly in her hand. Slow and sluggish she tilted her head forward, a glint of sunlight reflecting off the blade of a sword. How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was climbing aboard the boat in Gavir. But this was clearly Eykanua. In the distance she could see the impressive gates of the Imperial Palace, the doors hanging open, battered, as if something large had been used to ram them and gain entrance to Sulel’s home. Curious, she took a step forward, gravel crunching under her boots.

  Boots? Confused by the realization of her wardrobe, she cast a quick glance down at her clothing. Her entire ensemble was strange. Military in fashion. The fabric was thick. Durable. Gold cording edged the hem, matching the polished gleam of the buttons which lined the front of her doublet. An emblem had been embroidered above the right breast of the uniform. Familiar. Personal. A shield surrounded by an elaborate leaf work pattern, thinner near the base, building gradually outward at the top. A pair of twin crossed swords could be seen in the upper half of the shield, unlined by a pair of thick yet elegant V-shaped lines colored in with a vibrant, shimmering blue thread. A golden star brightened either side of the V pattern at the bottom of the shield, their shape bringing back memories from Kaori’s life before the oppression of her people. The Levadis family crest. But there was something different about it. Changed. While every detail of the shield and border remained flawless in her mind, it was the object which sat atop the shield which struck her as odd. Centered amongst the waves of the leafy outline sat what looked to be a crown, the graceful shape lifted by a pair of majestic wings drawn amidst the border to bring attention to the addition.

  Her thoughts raced over the possible reasons for the change. Mhina had spoken of Kaori being Queen. But that couldn’t be. Therek was the rightful Emperor. It was unusual that she wore a uniform at all, but stranger still that it bore the Levadis crest and not that of the Losuva family. This is nothing more than a dream; she assured herself. Such a detail had likely been conjured from the memory of her conversation with Mhina. There was no other explanation.

  Tearing her eyes from the emblem Kaori tried to focus on her surroundings. For the first time she could see that the bodies which littered the streets were more than just Vor’shai. Her kin were mingled with several races of soldiers. Human. Esai. Namiren. Ven’shal. Even a scattered Sanarik corpse could be seen among the dead. The whole city looked deserted aside from the fallen. Was she the only one left alive? What about her friends? Liurn. Therek…

  She didn’t want to think about what might have happened to him. Therek was a skilled fighter. He wouldn’t have fallen so easily. But there were so many corpses! No sign of life. Maybe he’s hurt. She had to find him. If he was injured, she needed to help him.

  Fearful of the worst, she began a frantic search of the bodies. Every fallen Vor’shai wore a uniform similar to her own, making it easier to spot them among the other races. To her dismay their faces were blurred. Distorted. Some were completely blank as if their features had been wiped away. Determining who any of these people were was impossible. All she knew was that none of them were Therek. She would recognize his features. The shape of his body. The color of his hair. She wouldn’t require his eyes and lips to know if he was among the dead.

  A yawning pit began to build in her stomach with every corpse she overturned. Therek wasn’t out here. She didn’t know how she knew, yet she was certain he wouldn’t be in the street. If an attack was waged on Sulel’s palace, Therek would have been leading the charge. He was the strongest warrior the Vor’shai had. No one else would be able to stand against General Deliao – and Deliao never would have left Sulel’s side.

  With renewed hope she turned toward the battered gates of the palace. “Therek!” her voice rang through the empty streets with an eerie echo, fading into the distance without a response. Not that she expected one. If Therek was inside he would never hear her calls from this side of the gate. She needed to get closer. He was there somewhere. She just didn’t know where.

  The sound of her boots was almost hollow in the way it reverberated through the streets. Ringing through her head with every step she took toward the palace. Bodies littered the ground along the path, blood pooled under their heads and chests, limbs severed, blades protruding from their abdomens. It was grotesque. Sickening. Bile rose in the back of her throat to look upon the dead, her hand rising to cover her mouth in fear that she might vomit. Now wasn’t the time to get sick. Therek could be hurt. He needed her. Why would she have let him leave her side?

  Her feet skidded to a swift halt as she entered the broken gates. From inside the sight was no different than that which she’d seen in the streets. Here the human corpses were more plentiful. Boasting the traditional uniform of the Imperial Army. An occasional Vor’shai was speckled among them, but it looked as if the attack on the palace had been a success. It brought greater comfort for her to believe that than it did to consider the possibility that their numbers had dwindled so low by the time they made it inside the palace grounds. The human remains were too many for that to be the case. No. A large unit of Vor’shai – or whoever fought with them – had entered these walls, and very few had fallen. It brought a sliver of hope. A chance that Therek might be safe inside the sturdy structure, ascending to his rightful place on the Imperial Throne.

  Her heart began to sink as she stepped through the entrance of the palace, a sharp intake of breath the only reaction she could produce in response to the scene she saw before her. It was worse than the grisly sight in the streets, mangled corpses lying in heaps on the floor, blood splattered across the walls to mar the once vibrant paintings along the grand foyer. Vor’shai. Hundreds of her kin slaughtered mercilessly along the hallways leading deeper into the building. Overcome by the sickness she felt, her knees buckled, hitting the floor with a resounding thud as her stomach began to heave with hard, labored breaths to purge its contents, unable to bring anything up. Racked with convulsions, she placed her hands on the marble tiles, listening to the clatter of her sword hitting the ground beside her. Puddles of blood had begun to spread outward from the stacks of dead bodies, the tips of her fingers slipping on the thick substance, nearly causing her to fall face-first into the cool surface of the floor. Mortified, she fought to regain some semblance of composure, scrambling back to her feet, barely managing to scoop up her sword in the process. She couldn’t leave it behind. There was no telling who she would find in this place. Someone had to be alive. There was just no guarantee that someone would be friendly.

  Dizzy from the rush of emotions, she drew in several long, deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart. Letting herself become consumed with fear would do nothing to help her. It did nothing to help Therek either if he was in danger. Calm down. Inhale. Exhale. Slow. Steady. After what felt like hours she finally felt her pulse start to ease. Her head ached from the increased flow of blood to her brain, adrenaline leaving her trembling amid the battered bodies of her kin. Keep moving. Her friends were here somewhere. More than ever she wanted to turn and run screaming from the building and never look back. If her friends were dead, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the sight of them. It was hard enough to witness the bloodied corpses of the faceless allies lying throughout the palace. If she was able to place a name to the mangled remains, it would drive her over the edge.

  Carefully, she stepped over the fallen soldiers, eyes focused straight ahead to avoid looking at the gruesome décor. Al
though she’d only been to the palace on one occasion outside of her arrest, she remembered the layout as if she had been there a thousand times. The wide, elegantly furnished halls which led to the throne room where she’d come to beg Sulel to spare her parents from execution. The night this violent downward spiral was first set into motion. She hoped Sulel regretted his betrayal. If he had just kept his word! None of this would have happened. Her parents would still be alive. Therek would be safely inside the beautiful Losuva estate in Siundel. And you would be dead…

  She shivered at the thought. But it was true. Her offer had been to give her life in exchange for those of her parents. And what was worse, she couldn’t feel guilty anymore for her failure to save her mother and father. As much as she tried to place the blame on her shoulders, it had nothing to do with her. She was merely the pawn Sulel chose to move first. Had she not given him the opportunity to make an example of her and her family, he would have found someone else. Another poor, unsuspecting victim that he could torture and manipulate until they provided what he required to tear the Vor’shai down. Even if he spared her parents and accepted her death in their stead, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have used her execution to set the same wheel into motion that he had with her parents. This war was inevitable. It was simply unfortunate. Unnecessary.

  The realization did little to comfort her. It didn’t change the fact that she was afraid. And rightfully so. She was young. Barely old enough to call herself an adult. Yet here she was, donning the uniform of a soldier and brandishing a sword against the Carpaen military. Death was no stranger to her. She had watched her parents die. Her brother. Friends. Strangers. All innocent people. Many more continued to line the corridors of the palace where she walked even now, coming to pause outside the arched door of Sulel’s throne room. How strange it was to find it closed. Had no one come here to search for him? Or else… it was closed after someone had gone inside. Coward. It was just like him to run and hide while his soldiers died for his greed.