by K. A. Linde
All the while, she worried about her friends and whether she would ever be able to leave here to find them, but at least she was finally getting answers.
Cyrene finished her bath and returned to the bedroom to find a new Leif gown in royal blue waiting for her. She dressed quickly and pulled her hair up.
Night fell before Avoca returned to Cyrene’s quarters. Avoca had changed out of her camouflage into a long blue dress that matched her eyes with braided gold sleeves and a matching band around her waist.
“Are you ready?” Avoca asked.
“Yes.”
“As a guest, you will be seated at the royal table,” Avoca explained as they circled back through the canopy to the floor.
“Why?” Cyrene asked in shock.
In Byern, guests in court were frequent enough, and while they were esteemed, they never sat with the king and queen.
Avoca scrutinized her and then responded, “Guests have the favor of the Queen, Doma.”
“Oh, I see,” Cyrene said, noting the differences between their cultures. “You can call me Cyrene, not Doma.”
“As it is your title, I would prefer to address you as such, but I take your request and foreign customs for what they are.”
“Thank you.”
“Where exactly did you come from?”
“I’m from the capital city in Byern.”
Avoca stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at Cyrene. Her nose was upturned, and she looked aghast. “Byern?”
“Yes.”
“It is a good thing that Ceis’f does not know where you are from.” Avoca controlled her facial features, but her voice still held disdain. “He might cut you down himself.”
“And why would he do that?” Cyrene asked. She tilted her head up and held on to her pride for her homeland.
“You know too little about your people if you can defend them so easily,” Avoca snapped before striding purposefully away.
Cyrene was left wondering what exactly she’d meant by that.
When they reached the ground floor, Avoca directed her into a spacious ballroom. Hundreds of Leifs were seated in high-backed chairs at artfully carved round tables. The floor had been formed from smoothed sparkling pebbles that reflected the dim lighting.
Cyrene’s mouth watered as soon as she walked inside. The tables were piled high with the best-smelling food she had ever encountered. Gold goblets were placed before every individual, but no one was eating yet.
It wasn’t until she was halfway across the room that she realized the voices were quieting and people were staring at her.
She heard someone whisper, “Human,” and another said, “Six team,” so she tried not to listen anymore.
Queen Shira was easy to pick out at the front of the room with a crown of climbing vines in her hair. That made Cyrene wish for her Affiliate pin, but if Avoca had been offended that she was from Byern, she was sure wearing it would have been dangerous.
“Queen Shira,” Avoca whispered. She pressed her hand to her lips in deference.
The Queen returned the gesture.
Then, Avoca pointed at one of the empty chairs at the Queen’s table. “Here.”
“Where will you sit?” Cyrene asked without thinking.
She only knew three people in the entire place, and she didn’t want Avoca to be far, especially since Ceis’f was seated at this table.
“Where I must.”
And then, without ceremony, she strode around the table and took a seat at Queen Shira’s right side.
Cyrene promptly took her seat. The right side was a sign of preference at home. Consort Daufina, the King’s highest advisor, always sat to his right. It had to mean something that Avoca was seated in that position of favor.
“Let’s begin,” Queen Shira said.
Dinner tasted as good as it smelled. The feast was a merry gathering, and people spoke heartily at the tables as they ate. No one engaged Cyrene in conversation, so she remained silent.
Once the plates were cleared away, Queen Shira stood. Silence immediately followed, and all eyes turned toward her. Cyrene could feel the anticipation from everyone around her. It even made her lean forward as she waited to hear what the Queen had to say.
“Thank you for joining me for the Feast of the Harvest Moon. The Creator shines on us with her returning blessings. We have had much loss, but with each year, we are afforded a new beginning. Our harvest was plentiful, the sacrifices of a few have secured the whole, and we have among us a Doma and the sign of the Rise of the Children of the Dawn.”
Whispers broke out across the room, and Cyrene felt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t expected the Queen to mention her. The Queen might not feel so secure if she could see how many angry eyes turned toward Cyrene. A number of people appeared to agree with Ceis’f.
“Silence!” Queen Shira called. “Our honored guest tonight is Doma Cyrene, and she has been granted the rights of our people until she departs. I expect everyone to treat her with that same respect. Now, before we return outdoors to celebrate the Creator’s blessing, my daughter has requested to be the first to give forth her gift of the new beginning.”
Cyrene looked around the table and then out into the audience, wondering who the Queen’s daughter was and what a gift of the new beginning entailed.
The Queen took her seat, and with her chin tilted up, Avoca stood gracefully from her seat. Cyrene narrowed her eyes, curious as to why she was standing.
“Thank you, Mother,” Avoca said.
Cyrene’s mouth fell open. Avoca is the…princess? That made no sense. She was sent on errands, like a servant, and forced to work in a military role, like someone in the Second Class. A princess should be learning her duties to better serve the country and eventually marry and become queen. It was reckless to risk her life as a soldier.
“I am glad that our new beginning starts tonight,” Avoca began without preamble. “For this past evening, Ceis’f and I were out with two six teams and were attacked by a horde of Indres. As you have since heard, six of our warriors have fallen. Their lives lie heavily on my heart, and I will never forget their names or faces. However, I would not be standing here before you”—she stopped and gestured to Ceis’f and a table in the corner—“none of us would be standing here today, if not for a miracle.”
Cyrene blinked. Did Avoca just call me a miracle?
“Doma, will you rise?” Avoca asked Cyrene.
She stood on shaky legs before a rapt audience. Avoca strode around the table and stood before her. Cyrene’s heart hammered in her chest as she waited.
“I only have one thing to offer you as a gift of my new beginning, and that is my life.”
And then Avoca knelt in front of Cyrene before the entire audience.
The room broke out into pandemonium. Cries and shouts echoed throughout the room. Chairs were knocked back to the ground as others exclaimed their distaste. Ceis’f jumped to his feet, grasped Cyrene, and pulled her back a few feet away from the Princess.
“Don’t even think about it, Doma,” he growled into her ear.
Cyrene stood, frozen, in shock. She didn’t know what was happening, but it seemed like Avoca had just…forfeited her life.
Queen Shira stood regally, completely unperturbed by the fact that her daughter and heir to the throne had offered her life to a stranger. She walked around the table to where Avoca knelt, ready for a swift end to her existence.
“Stand,” the Queen said. Her voice was firm but comforting.
Avoca’s chest rose and fell heavily, and then she stood to face her mother. A signal passed between them as they stared at each other. Then, Queen Shira nodded softly. A smile played on Avoca’s features for a second and then was immediately wiped away. She doesn’t actually expect me to kill her, does she?
The Queen faced the frantic crowd and raised her hand, calling for silence. It took longer than before as people were reluctant to stop discussing Avoca’s offering.
“Please return to the Fes
tival celebrations and begin to distribute gifts among yourselves.”
Complaints rose from the crowd, but the Queen stopped them with a sharp look in their direction.
“No harm will come to Princess Avoca. In fact, you are disrespecting her gift to our visitor and the Creator herself by speaking out against it.”
That shut everyone up.
Though it didn’t lessen Ceis’f’s grip on Cyrene. He held her in place the entire time as the rest of the Leif population filed out of the room to go outside.
“Ceis’f, release our visitor,” Queen Shira ordered.
“She’s going to kill Avoca,” Ceis’f protested.
“You are insulting our guest.”
Ceis’f grumbled under his breath and then roughly released Cyrene. She staggered a few feet forward and then righted herself.
“What is going on?” Cyrene asked. “Why is Avoca offering herself to me?”
“You saved my life; thus, my life is forfeit,” she whispered. She turned to face Ceis’f. “Surely, you can understand. My greatest shame—”
“Ava, I didn’t mean…this,” he said.
Cyrene put herself between Avoca and Ceis’f and shook her head. “I don’t want your life, Avoca. There has been too much death already.”
“You are rejecting my gift?” Avoca gasped.
“What good will your death bring?” Cyrene asked before anyone else could respond. “You are a crown princess. It would be a waste. I did not risk myself to save you so you could throw your life away so casually.”
Queen Shira stepped forward then. “I must agree with the Doma on this.”
Ceis’f breathed a sigh of relief at the words.
“Avoca, are you quite set on your gift to the Doma?” Queen Shira asked.
“Yes,” she responded fiercely.
“No!” Ceis’f cried.
The Queen fixed him with her icy stare. “Do not believe that I cannot dismiss you, Ceis’f.”
He ground his teeth but remained silent.
“Since you are set on your gift, might I make another suggestion?”
Avoca nodded her agreement.
“I have been around for a very long time. My mother and two older sisters were killed in the War of the Light nearly two thousand years ago. I was but a baby at the time. So much of their knowledge was lost when we did not win the war, but much has been handed down that I still have access to. At that time, we had more freedom between Leif and Doma. Many of us even chose to live among them, and they, among us.
“Magic has a certain consistency in the universe that draws in more of the same. Like calls to like. Magic calls to magic. And, at the time, Doma and Leif could be bound to one another for alliance, love, and even sometimes blood debt. Your magic would tie you to one another—weld it, increase it, intensify it. And, depending on the circumstances, the two people bound could not break the bond unless the bond had been satisfied. In your case, Avoca, until your debt has been repaid.”
Cyrene shook her head. “No.”
“Absolutely not.” Ceis’f finally seemed to agree with her on something.
“It’s perfect,” Avoca said.
“It’s hardly perfect! It means you’re bound to me. I don’t want to be tied to anyone. I’m my own person. I have my own life. And I have things I have to do. This is all well and good that you want to offer yourself up to me, but did you ever think I might not want that at all? You all are practically holding me hostage while my friends are in danger. Clearly, no one else sees the need for haste besides me!”
“I understand your need for haste,” the Queen stated. “I understand a great deal more than that.”
“Don’t you see? I can help,” Avoca said to Cyrene and then addressed her mother. “If my life belongs with her, then I would like to request to leave Eldora to go with her to help her friends.”
“What?” Cyrene and Ceis’f said at the same time.
Avoca turned back to Cyrene with determination in her gaze.
“You do not know our customs, Doma. All I have is honor, and that was taken from me when I did not die a warrior’s death. At first, I was angry with you for stealing away my right to die then and there. I thought it would be better if I forfeited my life to you, but now, I see what I did not consider before. My mother spoke of our part in the Circadian Prophecy. Why would the Doma appear to me in our very woods and save my life? There must be a reason. This is that reason.”
Queen Shira smiled. “You believe this is how we fit into the Prophecy?”
“How could it be otherwise? It is right before our eyes.”
“No one really knows how prophecies work,” Ceis’f said. “You’re grasping at thin air.”
Avoca ignored him. “This is my choice. Whether we complete the official ceremony or not, I am bound to you. Without fulfilling my duty to you, I cannot properly accept my role in our society.”
Avoca spoke with such conviction that Cyrene was no longer surprised that she had been groomed as a princess. No matter how backward their society was, it was clear that this really mattered to her.
Cyrene swallowed. “What does the ceremony entail exactly?”
“Come with me,” the Queen said.
Ceis’f grasped Avoca’s arm. “You can’t actually mean to do this.”
“I mean for you not to interfere.” She withdrew from his grasp.
Queen Shira brought them into a giant domed library that made Cyrene smile with fond memories of Byern and Albion. It sent a pang through her chest as she thought about her best friend, Rhea, who had insisted on staying behind.
The Queen removed a book from a shelf and shuffled through the pages. “Here it is. Just as I thought, the magic is particular and requires three parts—acceptance of the ritual, a test of loyalty to check for compatibility, and an elemental binding.”
“A test of loyalty?” Cyrene asked. Why does that sound so familiar?
“Yes. Not every person can be bound. In fact, even before the War of the Light, few did so.”
“Why?” Avoca asked.
“Only magical users can be officially bound, and it is even rarer for people between races to be bound, for our magic differs slightly. Leif magic relies solely on the elements. We draw from things around us to increase our powers. Doma magic is able to do this as well, but there is always a component inherent to the user. You produce magic from within as well as draw from the outside world, which is why you need more training. But, to answer your question, some people feared sharing their powers and learning new abilities. They believed that it could weaken them.”
“You mean, it could weaken your own daughter?” Ceis’f growled.
“It makes you weak in that you are loyal to someone other than yourself, Ceis’f. It takes a certain kind of person to share yourself and your magic with another. I, myself, do not think that is weakness but strength. Now, are you willing to try to see if you are compatible?”
“I am,” Avoca said immediately.
Cyrene mulled over the situation. Avoca was her best bet of getting out of here. As far as Cyrene saw it though, her gift had already been paid. Cyrene had saved Avoca from the Indres, but someone had had to bring her back to Eldora to be healed. Cyrene could have easily died out there, alone in the woods.
Just that thought alone dredged up feelings of gratitude and loyalty to Avoca. And, while the thought of sharing her powers terrified her, it also excited her. She didn’t feel the same fears that the Queen had discussed. She wasn’t afraid to weaken herself. Having someone to guide her, to share her frustrations, to maybe even tap into the floodgates would be a comfort.
“What happens if we’re not compatible?” Cyrene asked finally.
“The loyalty portion can effect people in different ways. Some have felt nothing, some have felt a lingering feeling of attachment to the person, and some have died.”
Cyrene sucked in a breath.
“Think on it. I am going to mix the ingredients required in the instructions, a
nd then I will need your answer.”
The Queen stepped out of the library, leaving the three of them alone. Cyrene paced as she thought about how she had gotten herself into this mess. Avoca and Ceis’f argued quietly across the room. Ceis’f was likely trying to talk Avoca out of this foolishness.
The thing was, if Avoca wanted to follow her around on her mission, she could do that, and there wasn’t much Cyrene could do to stop her. She couldn’t even touch her powers. She liked to believe that she was a good judge of character and that she followed her gut when it told her to believe in people. Ahlvie had seemed like a dirty, drunk scoundrel, but she had put her faith in him when no one else would. And he had helped her, blind of her reasons. This had the same nagging tug.
She should trust Avoca.
She should be loyal to these people.
She should be bound.
“I’ll do it,” Cyrene said.
Avoca nodded in satisfaction, but Ceis’f seethed next to her.
“Neither of you has any idea what you’re getting into. It’s reckless. Avoca. Will you not see reason? You are risking your life and the safety of all Leifs by abandoning us to run away with it.”
“I’ve had about enough of you,” Cyrene cried. “You were out there yesterday. You saw the Indres. I saved your life, too. At best, you would have run away as a coward. At worst, you would be dead. If you had any honor, you would allow the Princess to make decisions for herself. Certainly, she is capable of doing something without you breathing down her neck.”
“You are mistaken,” he growled. “I have no honor. Your kind robbed me of it.”
“Ceis’f,” Avoca whispered. She placed her hand on his arm. “That is a tale for another day.”
“I will not idly sit by and watch you throw your life away,” he said, wrenching his arm free and storming toward the door.
The Queen returned at that moment. She raised a questioning eye at Ceis’f as he hurried past her but did not object when he left the room. “Have we come to a decision?”
“Let’s do it,” Cyrene said.
Cyrene and Avoca each took a glass that Queen Shira had handed to them. Cyrene had a sense of déjà vu settle over her, but she couldn’t place it exactly. She glanced over at Avoca, who seemed entirely resolute about her decision.