by C S Vass
“Our parents had thought it right to tell me about the prophecy when they were certain it was I who it pertained to. But with new doubts they chose not to tell you. A decision that I agreed with. You see, by that time I was already working hard to fulfill my duty. I learned about the world, about Haygarden, about our people’s history. I trained hard to make myself the greatest warrior I could become. I worked hard to become this Child of Destiny that Naerumi spoke of.
“But then,” a dark look came over Rodrick’s face. “But then they sought to deny it to me. I had done everything right. I had proven myself to be the one to shape the world. But as you grew older, our parents became wary of the entire business. They were ready to focus on our lives, not the lives of the world. They were going to take us away! To Laquath of all places. They didn’t mean for me to find out, but I overheard them. There was some opportunity or other for us to have some type of foreign schooling. I don’t know what madness overtook them. But I couldn’t allow us to leave home. I had already become so strong, so ready.”
Fiona felt as though a dark, deep hole was opening up inside of her. Her legs were weak and her mouth was dry. There was a loud buzzing in her ears, and she felt blood throbbing in her temples.
“You have to understand, Fiona. They were going to destroy everything that I worked for. They were going to make it so that none of it mattered. Even more foolishly, they were going to try to defy the Law of Destiny, a law even more unbreakable than that of death.”
“You killed our parents.” She said it calmly. It was not a question.
“I do not deny it. I am not proud to be guilty of parricide. But I am proud of having the strength to fulfill my destiny. There is a reason this all happened. There is a reason I found the Vaentysh Boys. And there is a reason you and I are here in Morrordraed together, Fiona.”
She felt like a ghost without a body. “Don’t ever say my name again.”
“Fiona, please…”
The tip of the sword burst from his chest, covered in blood. Jet was behind him.
Rodrick spasmed and fell to his knees. He tried to speak, but only blood came out from his mouth. He was fighting very hard to say something.
“Sw-swor-sword,” he choked.
Fiona could only stare at him. He summoned all of his remaining strength. “The dragon-pommel. The dragon-pommel.” A look of total serenity washed over his face. “I see… birds.”
Rodrick Sacrosin fell dead.
* * *
Fiona felt no grief. She felt no sorrow. She felt nothing as she walked past Rodrick’s dead body. That part of her life was over now.
She approached Geoff Hightower. He was breathing heavily against a tree and seemed to be in a great deal of pain.
“Fiona. I’m—”
“Don’t you say a word.” She gripped his hand and kissed him on the brow. “We’re going to see to your wounds and take care of you.”
He coughed and spasmed. “I have been more of a burden to you on this trip than I ever could have imagined.”
Jet crouched near them. “Burdens were made for bearing. That was something Greythor and my father both used to say. Come now. Into the house.”
They took the old knight inside. His wound was far less extensive than Fiona had dared hope, but it was still a long gash that cut deeply into the skin of an aged man who was already sick. They washed it carefully while Geoff put on a brave face and tried not to wince, before treating it with healing oils that Harken had made and bandaging it.
Geoff slept soundly for the rest of the afternoon. Fiona listened carefully to his breathing, which remained steady. She kept herself busy tending to him and avoided having to say anything at all to Jet. She just wasn’t ready. She would probably never be ready.
As the sun crept down a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.
“It is over then.”
They turned to see none other than the psychic Naerumi standing in the doorway.
“You,” Fiona said.
“Yes, me.” Naerumi’s voice was as harsh as ever. Her violet eyes still shone malevolently. “I watched your encounter from afar. It seems you now know the madness that poisoned your brother’s mind.”
Fiona swallowed. There would be no avoiding this confrontation.
“I do,” she said. “Rodrick could not accept that he was no Child of Destiny. He couldn’t be happy with his own fate, his own inordinate abilities, and that anger turned into a fire that has burned my life to the ground.”
Fiona looked angrily at the psychic. “I cannot help but think that everything might have been different had you not come back to Tellos to inform everyone of your mistake.”
“My mistake?” Naerumi said. “My, the arrogance truly does run in the family. What makes you think I have made any mistake, child. I’ve been walking the woods since before your grandparents were born. Are you so sure you know what missteps I may have made?”
Fiona’s cheeks reddened. “You could have stopped him. You could have told him I was the Child of Destiny! He would have had to believe you.”
“Fool!” Naerumi spat. “You are no more a Child of Destiny than you are the child of a hippo.”
“Then Rodrick really was the Child of Destiny?”
Naerumi shook her head and spat on the ground. “Why do I even bother with these Tellosians?” When no one answered her she continued. “There is no Child of Destiny. It was a ruse from the start. One that has unfortunately ruined your family, but may have still saved your country.”
Fiona blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I went to Tellos because I foresaw fire and doom and war. War that would grow to engulf the whole world if the course of history would not be changed. So I arrived and told the Duke of a Child of Destiny. I made up the green eyes because it was an uncommon color for the region. You see, I needed to make a child of destiny. Not wait for one to show up.”
“It was all just a dumb lie?” Fiona couldn’t believe it. She dropped to her knees and laughed. She laughed like a madwoman while Jet stared at her with a worried look on his face. “Everything that destroyed my life. My family. Everything. It was because you lied to the Duke all those years ago.”
“It was necessary,” Naerumi said. “I knew someone would emerge who would live up to the challenge. I knew it would be best if it was an adventurous spirit, eager to come to Morrordraed. I planned from the start to keep whoever they found in Tellos, so that they could start working to counter the forces that would lead Haygarden to war.”
“But there has been so much bloodshed. The Vaentysh Boys, the Forgotten. All the battles.”
Naerumi scoffed. “Drunks and gamblers here in Morrordraed have a rather wise saying for those situations. It could always be worse. You have no idea how much worse it could have been.”
Fiona wanted to be angry, anger was so much of what she knew. But she just didn’t seem to have the emotional capacity for it.
“I see you also still have the manjeko swirling inside you, killing your organs. Are you so eager to die, girl?”
“You refused to heal me,” Fiona pointed out.
“I did,” Naerumi admitted. “It seemed pointless when you came to me with the cure yourself.”
“What… what are you talking about?”
“The dragon-pommel, girl! Your brother tried to tell you. Never mind, here.” Naerumi marched over to her and snatched the broken dragon-pommel blade off of Fiona’s back. She twisted it hard, with surprising strength for such an aged woman, and the pommel twisted clean off. Naerumi held it to her.
“Inside. Drink.” Fiona did. It tasted horrible, like strong alcohol and tar. It fell in her stomach so hard she almost gave it right back up.
“So help me child, if you vomit up that potion and I have to make another, I’ll make you march across the continent and back to retrieve it.
“I don’t understand. Rodrick had a cure the whole time? Did he know? How did he get it?”
Naerumi was already wa
lking away but stopped at the door. “He got it from me,” she said. “A testament that even a great psychic doesn’t always know who to trust.” She left.
It was many years before Fiona ever considered that perhaps Naerumi wasn’t being completely honest about not knowing who to trust. It was even longer before she considered she might not have been completely honest about the Child of Destiny.
Epilogue
Jet,
I hope you are well when this letter reaches you. I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner, but things have been so busy here in Haygarden!
The mood here in the city is cheerful. There has been no sign of the Vaentysh Boys, the Forgotten are barely a presence, and even the Tellosian Empire seems to wish to speak with us openly at the negotiating table instead of subversively or in the streets.
I’ve been staying in Sun Circle (I know I told you I would rather bite off my own fingers than come back here, but things really seem different.) and some unexpected faces from my past have shown up.
My main work right now is with Sandra—Queen Redfire, I mean, as we say now. We’ve worked so hard to expand her territory into any part of the Lordless Lands that is willing to accept our rule. So far refusal is rare. Sandra has placed a massive effort on instituting schools and hospitals in areas that have barely even heard of them.
Of course it didn’t go so smooth at the start. Sandra had to fight half the court and insisted that we needed to invest our resources into the Lordless Lands regardless of if they would join us. When certain nobles objected to paying money for the schools and hospitals of strangers, Queen Redfire said that anybody who refused would likely have a change of heart after being banished to live among them. Our Queen certainly knows how to command respect.
Donyo Brownwater and Martin Lightwing (You remember all about them, right? I told you all about them before I left.) have also returned, which came as a great surprise to me. They had seemed so certain to put the city behind them, but apparently on the way out Donyo came across a caravan carrying a new kind of strawberry wine from Laquath and he followed it right back into the city, taking Martin with him.
It’s hard to write about, but I feel like I must tell you about Sasha as well. After you helped me gather her father-by-marriage’s bones I went to her and her husband. Reggie thanked me for returning with the remains of his father, but things have been… awkward to say the least. Their marriage has ended and all that’s left is the signing of final documents. I’m nervous that something will prevent it from happening, but we will just have to wait and see.
I was surprised to hear about Raejo. I think that’s the first time I ever heard of a ruler stepping down willingly. I suppose we shouldn’t be too shocked. After all, it was Krune who really ran things down there. I hope to come back to Morrordraed someday, not under duress but simply to travel the landscape and see how progress is going. I know that Greythor and your father would be proud of everything you’ve done.
They would also understand, Jet. I know that despite your decision you have reservations. But I also know that this is what you want to do. I’m getting a sense of happiness and normalcy for the first time in my life, but I need you here with me. Next month can’t come fast enough. I tried to pull every string I could find to get the damn Tellosian Empire to get us the passes faster, but soon we’ll have them and you’ll be able to join me here.
I miss you, Jet. I won’t feel right until you’re here with me. Geoff has been good company, but he only sings songs of the past. I need you here so we can look to the future.
I want to tell you more, but this is all the time I have right now. We’ll see each other soon though, and things will finally really get the chance to start over for us. I can’t wait to see you, and I think you’re going to really like it here. The mornings in Sun Circle are incredible. Take care of yourself.
—Love
Fiona
P.S.
If I hear you’ve been fooling around with any Morrordraed harlots, I’ll cut your balls off.
We’ve reached the end of the trilogy but there are many more fantasy novels yet to come! To get updates The Gaellean Prophecy, a new epic dark fantasy series, you can sign up for my reader group at csvass.com.
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I look forward to seeing you in the next story.
—C.S. Vass
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