"What about you? Do you know about Queen Ezmirelda?"
"I may have read a book here and there."
"I think it's fascinating how in the kingdom we're taught she was a tyrant. How she stole Alova away from Deimor when he wanted to join Thoris. How the citizens of Alova resisted her all the way to her death when they united with the kingdom. But in the books I read here, it's nothing like that. She was originally from Alova. They loved her here."
Brahawee faced the statue. "Well, I'm sure the truth lies somewhere in between. It was hundreds of years ago. I don't know why the kingdom has to keep slandering her name. But I also don't entirely believe some of the accounts from the old Alova texts. They make her sound perfect, but let's face it. Nobody's perfect, especially when it comes to royalty."
"What's with the missing hand?"
"I don't know. All these statues have the hand broken off. There's a legend that Ezmirelda was courted by an Anoctis assassin hired by King Valren. He took her hand to kiss it and then chopped it off. She died from the blood loss. Her spirit haunts the city looking for someone to kill so she can take their hand."
Eriph peered down at his own hand. "That's brutal. Wait, was Anoctis even around back then?"
"No, the story's a complete fabrication, and also, Ezmirelda died of natural causes. I thought you read all the books about her."
"Not all. I'm working my way through this big one Mortis recommended. Goes through her whole life, even before she met Deimor."
"Is that the one with the white cover and gold trim? What's it called? The Queen or The Only Queen?"
"Our Sole Queen."
"That's the one." Brahawee gestured to the end of the hallway. "So, you ready to continue your training?"
"You bet." Eriph was thrilled to learn more about how to effectively use his shield as a conduit for light energy. As they left the statue behind, there was one other thing Eriph was curious about. "Can I ask you something else?"
"About Ezmirelda?"
"About Rizen."
"Sure."
"What's a lemniscate?" Eriph asked.
"Ah, history I actually lived through. They're the members who joined Sect Eighty-Eight before we were exiled. They're basically the Death Gods before we were called Death Gods. We didn't really have any requirements for joining back then. We needed the numbers, and this was long before we adopted the concept of sponsorship. Some were good, some weren't. We couldn't exactly be picky. When the Prima exiled us, a lot of them quit. Those who stuck around, about forty or so, helped us reclaim Alovajj."
"Oh, I see. So there are forty people here without a sponsor?"
"No, after a couple of years, we started the sponsorship program. Everyone was meant to be subject to it, even those who had been with us from the beginning. Some refused to take part and left. Others weren't sponsored. The lemniscates who still remain are those we didn't want to lose, and so we didn't force sponsorship on them. Rizen is one of those."
"Interesting."
"There's only a handful of them. I'm sure it won't be long before you meet the others."
"I know," Eriph said. "It's just strange because I was here for an entire year and there are so many places I wasn't allowed to go and people I wasn't allowed to speak with. I'm still surprised Shinigami allowed me to have the Brotherhood list."
Brahawee smirked. "Did it help?"
"I gave a copy to my friend in Memorial City. I haven't spoken to him since I left, so I'm not sure if he put it to good use. But it seemed pretty helpful in Nolka. Archdon Feranis was eager to get his hands on it, even if the Prima wasn't."
"Ah, Feranis. I always liked him. He and Skully were my favorite advisors of Ayristark."
"Heh. Did I tell you about Don Millan?" Eriph asked.
"No, but I know about him."
"Did you know he had no idea Skully used to be an advisor?"
"No, but I could see that."
"I wonder what else Skully never told Millan."
Brahawee chuckled. "You don't know the half of it."
✽✽✽
The Nesinu priest rolled over as he woke from his deep slumber. Groaning, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Millan pulled his hands down and looked around. He was in his room in the Sanctuary, and he was wearing commoner clothing. Why? The voice of Don Jaisse rang in his head. No problem. I can loan you some clothing. Just make sure you don't venture into the slums. It was coming back in pieces. Priests weren't welcome in the slums, and Millan was warned not to wear his robe to see the golden line. He imagined running his finger over the historic line. Had it been a dream? Had he been there already? If so, why was it so hard to remember? Millan spotted his robe, clean and hung neatly on a chair. He quickly changed but something was missing. He rubbed the back of his neck. Where was his scarf?
Millan folded the commoner clothing into a pile and walked to the door. His thumb pressed down on the latch, but it stopped short with a click. He pulled on the handle, and the door refused to budge. Millan's heart entered a panicked state. He gripped the handle and frantically yanked at the door with all of his strength. But he soon abandoned his effort and banged on the door with his fist. "Help! Help! I'm locked in! Somebody help!"
Millan hopped back at the sound of metal sliding against metal. The door opened, and a watcher poked her upper body through the opening. "Problem?"
"Uh, yes. Someone locked me in my room."
"Right. Prima's orders. Anything else?"
"The Prima?" Millan asked softly. His mind began to race. When Eriph was excluded, he stopped wearing his scarf. Was Millan about to suffer a similar fate? Was that why his scarf was missing? Was he being stripped of his rank?
"You all right, Don?" the watcher asked. "Did you need anything else?"
"Am I allowed to leave?"
"I'm afraid not. Prima's orders."
"So, what…um, what happens now?"
"You wait here."
Millan tittered. "Prima's orders?"
"Don't worry. Someone's gone to get her. She'll be here shortly. Anything else?"
"No, thank you." Millan sat down on the bed as the watcher left. It felt as though he sank deeper than normal into the mattress. This was it. He had messed up so badly they took his scarf from him, and he couldn't even remember what he did. There's no way it was the Blessing of the Fallen Angel again. He had given the conduit away. The thought of the blessing reminded him of Royal Oak and the two demons he had squared off with. His mind suddenly clung to an image of the jester demon on a hanging sign, but then let it go when the door opened.
Millan slid off the bed and onto one knee as he glimpsed the gleaming white robe and brilliant red scarf. "Your Luminescence." When his eyes came up, a familiar figure was also standing in the threshold. He politely nodded. "Lady Sundancer."
"Don Millan, please, have a seat," Mashira calmly insisted. She called him "Don." Maybe there was hope he wouldn't be excluded after all.
Millan shifted back to his spot on the bed. Mashira moved the chair and sat before him while Sundancer shut the door and took her post against the wall. An eerie sense of déjà vu took hold of Millan. He was in this exact situation in Royal Oak less than a week ago. He expected a scolding but was put at ease by the Prima's kind smile.
Mashira cleared her throat. "How do you feel?"
"A little worried. A little confused."
"How's your head?"
Millan brought his hand to his cheek. "Good, I think. It doesn't hurt."
"I'm glad to hear it. Do you remember where you were yesterday?"
"Didn't I arrive in the city?"
"No, that was the day before. You don't recall anything from yesterday?"
Again, his mind conjured up the image of his finger rubbing a yellow line on a wall. "The golden line? I thought that was a dream."
"One of the side effects, I'm afraid. Don't worry, though. Your memory of yesterday will gradually come back to you."
"Side effects of what?"
Mashira interla
ced her fingers and placed them in her lap. "You were infected with a seed called deathroot."
"A seed? As in?"
"As in a dark spell. We received a warning yesterday afternoon that you were being held in the slums, in a restaurant called the Laughing Demon. According to the watchers who retrieved you, they got to you just in time."
Millan poked at his chin as the sign flashed in his mind. "Yes, I remember. The sign had a picture of Flinch on it."
"A picture of what?"
"Of Flinch. He was one of the demons with Erynion. Short guy in jester clothes. The image in my memory is fuzzy, but I know what I was thinking when I saw it. That restaurant is named after a real demon."
"Well, that's not surprising since it's in the slums. The area is run by a group called the douters. They're not exactly fans of Candelux, and so the Brotherhood has been slowly gathering strength there ever since the Assault."
"Don Jaisse told me about them. Led by a man named Horvin, right?"
"That's right," the Prima said. "We'll have to deal with him later. He's not going to be very pleased the watchers crossed into the slums to fetch you, but we didn't have a choice. We couldn't risk losing you to the Brotherhood."
"Losing me?"
"Yes. Luckily, thanks to our new relationship with the Death Gods, they told us exactly where you were and warned us about the deathroot. They didn't say exactly what it does, only that it messes with the mind, and the sooner it's removed, the better."
"And it's been removed from me?"
"Mm-hmm. A little light energy in the right spot, and the seed dissipated. I have to admit, considering our stalemate with the Death Gods these past few days, they were pretty generous with this information. They quite likely saved your life."
This revelation fascinated Millan, even if he couldn't remember the circumstances. "You'll have to thank them for me."
Mashira pursed her lips. "Actually, you'll have the opportunity yourself."
Millan felt sick as he clutched his chest. He was moments away from being excluded. "No, it can't be."
"What can't be?"
"What did I do wrong?"
"Millan, I don't follow. What are you talking about?"
The words were stuck in his throat. "You're…you're"—he took a couple of deep breaths—"you're going to exclude me."
"You're not being excluded."
Millan's panic cautiously faded. "I'm not?"
"No, what would give you such an idea?"
"I was locked in here like a prisoner. I was captured by the Brotherhood. My scarf was taken away."
"We locked the door as a precaution. It was for your safety. And being captured by the Brotherhood is not an excludable offense. It could've happened to anyone. The slums are a dangerous place."
"And my scarf?"
Mashira glanced over her shoulder, and Lady Sundancer handed her a folded piece of white cloth. The Prima placed it nicely on her lap. "Before I proceed, I want to ask you a question. My intuition tells me you don't know the answer, but I feel compelled to ask anyway. Do you know why the Death Gods may be interested in you?"
Millan was stunned. "In me?"
"Yes. Any idea at all?"
"I hardly knew anything about them before Erynion appeared. Maybe because Don Skully was close with them way back when?"
"Maybe. The reason I ask is because last night, the Death Gods made a request in exchange for their help in saving you. They want you to join the ambassadors we're sending to Alovajj."
"What?" He must have misheard her. "I'm no ambassador."
"I understand, but after what they did, I couldn't see any reason to deny their request. Don't worry. You'll be accompanying Archdons Kainol and Navi Laila. I wish there were more time to do a formal ceremony, but the convoy leaves at noon. Today."
"I'm leaving for Alovajj today?"
"Yes." Mashira stood and unfurled the white scarf. A yellow four-pointed star was embroidered at each end. "Please kneel."
The Nesinu priest complied.
"Don Millan, I call upon you to aid your guild, your people, and your kingdom. By accepting this scarf, you are accepting the responsibilities of diplomacy. The words you speak and the actions you commit will be in the best interest of our people. From this point forward, until your service in this role is no longer required, and for as long as you wear this scarf, you are an ambassador for Candelux."
As she rested the scarf across his shoulders, Millan contemplated her question about the Death Gods' interest in him. However, no clear answer came to mind.
Mashira lowered herself back in her chair. "You may be seated."
Millan shifted back onto the bed. "Thank you, Your Luminescence."
"Now, it's come to our attention that the Brotherhood knows who you are. It's probably why you were given deathroot."
"I'm a nobody, though."
Mashira raised an eyebrow. "Are you? You led the evacuation of Nesinu and saved all those people from Erynion. You fought at Nolka. You went back to Nesinu and helped destroy the twisted gate. In Royal Oak, you engaged two iymed and wielded the Blessing of the Fallen Angel. And after surviving the purge, you were Erynion's prisoner. I would say you're far from being a nobody. The Death Gods seem to agree. And the Brotherhood too."
The sudden attention made Millan uneasy. "What do I do?"
"You do your duty, as an ambassador. But with the Brotherhood interested in you, I need to make sure you're protected. This is why I've requested for Lady Sundancer to be your personal bodyguard."
Millan gazed at the bloodseeker. He had seen her prowess during the battle at Royal Oak. What an honor it was to be guarded by a Champion of the Light. "I don't know what to say."
"There's nothing to say. It's all been arranged. She'll be by your side every step of the way."
"Thank you. This is all very sudden."
"I understand. You should grab some breakfast and relax a bit. You still have a couple of hours before the ambassadors depart."
"I will. Thank you."
"There is one more thing before I let you go. I have something for you." The Prima pulled Skully's gift from her pocket and presented it to him.
The Nesinu priest was paralyzed by the sight of the star. "I don't understand."
Mashira took his hand, lowered the artifact into his palm, and gently curled his fingers into a fist. Her smile warmed his heart. "You are not a nobody. You are an ambassador of Candelux. You were trained by a former advisor. Don Skully taught you blessings far above your rank, which tells me he saw something special in you. Otherwise, he never would've given you this amazing gift. The journey ahead will be dangerous and even with a warrior I trust with my own life by your side, you should have every weapon available to you."
"But it could kill me. You said so yourself in Royal Oak."
"Until you get more training, you should only use it if your life's in danger. And when you get to Alovajj, speak with my brother. Mortis specifically requested you bring the conduit with you."
Giddy, Millan opened his hand and stared at the star. "Thank you."
"May the angels watch over you."
"And you as well, Your Luminescence."
Chapter 10
As the light of dawn chased away the darkness, Erynion halted the flow of energy.
"How do you feel?" Eyzora asked.
"Drained. But in a good way."
"Congratulations. You successfully survived the night without the chains of light."
"He still has a long way to go," Ojjuk added.
"Ojjuk!" The red wolf shot her mate a look.
Erynion nodded. "No, he's right. I admit this is a step in the right direction, but this took an incredible amount of concentration, and I'm so tired. I need to be able to survive without releasing all my energy."
Flinch waved his right arm up and down. It had been regenerated down to his elbow. "I'm certainly not complaining. One more night and I'm whole again."
The demon lord fetched his chains from the
ground and began wrapping them around his body. "I doubt I'll need the entire night."
Eyzora circled him. "Are those really necessary?"
"I'm not taking any chances. This is the third day, and I need this archdon to agree to extend the enchantment."
"The chains hinder your progress. I've shown you can survive without them. Don't you trust me?"
"It's not a question of my trust in you. I can't risk not having them."
"But you can risk meeting with an archdon who might be more interested in cleansing you than helping you."
Flinch scratched the back of his head. "I'm terrified of the purge, but I kind of agree with Eyzora on this one. Feranis is a powerful priest."
Erynion turned to the black wolf. "What about you? You agree?"
"What difference does it make? I can see fear has already made up your mind."
The comment stung, but the demon lord refused to let it bother him. Even though he feared the agony, it was not the driving force in his decision. He was simply being pragmatic. Besides, last night, he had sent Dulo on a mission to make contact with Archdon Feranis. Erynion hoped the wanderer had relayed his message. "I'm going to Nolka."
"Let me come with you," Flinch suggested.
"This may be the only chance I get. I don't want to scare him away."
"I can keep my distance. He won't even know I'm there."
Erynion considered the offer. "Fine, but stay in the trees, and don't move a muscle unless I call for you."
Flinch saluted. "You got it, boss."
"And we're supposed to wait here and hope you're not captured again?" Eyzora asked.
"I went willingly last time." Erynion removed the cloth covering his eye. "I'll be able to see if it's a trap."
The demon lord departed from the camp as the jester climbed into the branches overhead. Flinch maintained his distance, and so Erynion enjoyed a nice quiet walk through the woods. In his head, he played out scenarios where he would meet the archdon. Sometimes it was a trap. Sometimes it wasn't. He had to be prepared for anything.
The trees thinned, and the road leading to Nolka's north gate lay before him. The chains clinked as Erynion stepped out of the forest and recalled the last time he was there. Fresh from a purge the previous night, he had walked for hours to reach Nolka. And thanks to Dulo, he had slipped past the watchers on duty. Erynion clenched his jaw as he envisioned the red dress glowing in the limited light. That was the night he had met the Seductress.
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