-The Desert: unknown ruins-
The desert had grown quiet. The draconian's corpse lay where it had fallen, half-buried already by drifting sand. The ruins loomed in the distance, forming ominous shadows in the rising sun. Talia sat beside the Diviner, exhaustion finally catching up to her. The healing had worked—barely. Just enough to keep the worst wounds from claiming her. Enough to buy her time. The Diviner remained unconscious, breathing steadily. For the first time since finding her, Talia allowed herself to simply look. Really look.
The Diviner's torn tunic had been reduced to little more than strips of cloth held together by stubbornness and luck. Bandages improvised from Talia's cloak crossed her side and shoulder where the deepest wounds had been and somehow covered more of her than her tunic did. Even battered and bloodied, Calenelda was annoyingly beautiful.
Years of training showed in every line of her body. Lean muscle beneath sun-bronzed skin. Broad shoulders earned from wielding weapons and shaping stone. Strong arms that had carried wounded soldiers and stubborn nobles alike. Countless scars old and new, each one a story of someone she had chosen to protect. A life spent giving pieces of herself away.
Talia's gaze softened. Idiot. Then she noticed something else. Faint.
Tiny runes traced along The Diviner's skin. Across her collarbone. Down one forearm and around her shoulder. Soft silver-gold light pulsed within them. The symbols of May'Jahan. Not glowing brightly or dramatically. Simply present and comforting. A quiet reminder that the goddess had not abandoned her. Despite the danger. Despite the awakening, or perhaps because of it. Talia didn't know when it happened. For all she knew maybe May'Jahan had chosen her because she became double awakened. Or she had become double awakened because of May'Jahan's blessing. Despite everything, she still protected her.
Talia released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Good," she murmured.
A part of her had feared otherwise. Feared that whatever The Diviner was becoming might place her beyond even divine guidance. Or worse, put her on Ba'Ham's path…
But May'Jahan was still there. Still watching. Still choosing her. The realization brought an unexpected sense of relief. Her eyes drifted back to Calenelda's face. Her strong jawline. The dark lashes. The loose strands of hair that the wind kept pushing across her forehead. For someone who spent so much time charging into danger, she looked remarkably peaceful asleep. Talia found herself smiling. Then immediately stopped when she realized she had been staring. Far longer than was reasonable. Unfortunately—
The Diviner chose that exact moment to wake up. Her nose wrinkled once. Then one eye cracked open. Talia held her breath in silence as heat immediately flushed her cheeks. The eye focused. Directly on Talia, making her flinch and forget that the eye couldn't see. A slow grin appeared.
"Oh."
Talia immediately looked away. "No."
"You're staring."
"I was checking your injuries."
"Mhm." Calenelda's smile widened as the second eye opened. "Enjoying the view?"
Talia groaned and tried to draw attention away from the heat in her cheeks.
"You nearly died."
"That's not a no."
"Diviner." Talia let a frustrated sigh escape.
The grin somehow became even more infuriating.
"You know," Calenelda said, shifting slightly before immediately regretting it, "if you're curious, it's perfectly acceptable to ask."
Talia blinked. "What?"
The Diviner gestured vaguely toward herself. "I don't mind."
She paused for a moment, then continued. "You can feel my arm if you want."
Talia stared speechless. "I have no idea what that means."
"Neither do I." The Diviner winced. "But it sounded confident."
Against her better judgment, Talia laughed. Just once. And Calenelda looked absurdly pleased with herself. The moment lasted all of five seconds. Then Talia remembered the body. The blood. The fact she'd nearly lost her. Her expression hardened immediately. Calenelda noticed and the smile faded.
"You nearly died." Talia tried to keep her cool.
"Oh."
The answer came so casually that Talia stared at her in disbelief. "Oh?"
The Diviner winced. "...when you say it like that—"
"When I say it like that?" Talia snapped.
Stonefang wisely chose that moment to retreat several steps and lick his front paw.
Calenelda immediately knew she was in trouble. Real trouble. The kind no amount of earth magic could solve. Talia rose to her feet to look taller. A trick she had learned from captain Laskaris.
"You fought an … whatever that is!" Talia gestured the dead draconian wildly up and down.
"A Draconian. You really haven't been beyond your noble estate much, huh?" The Diviner couldn't help but blurt out whatever she was thinking.
"You're one to talk. You're a noble yourself, Calenelda!" Talia exploded with barely contained anger.
The Diviner's eyes grew wide at the mention of that name. She had thought it a fluke of luck before, but now that Talia used it again, there was no question about it. She knew.
"How do you know my .."
"Your name? I heard in your memory." She huffed and crossed her arms.
"What memory? When?"
"When we left the temple. I saw the fear you gave up." Talia balled her fist in anger, but then remembered what she had seen. "What your parents made you believe."
"Figures it would show that to you.." Calenelda sighed.
Now that she knew her real name she would soon begin to put the pieces together and figure out who she really was. She did not look forward to that so she decided to try and gently steer away from that topic.
"I guess it's only fair that you knew my name too." She shrugged, trying to sell the indifferent look. "Now we both know something of each other's past. But yes, I fought Draconians."
"Wait.. You fought Draconians? Plural? There was more than one!?" Talia said it with a tone that made Calenelda wince and realize she was in even more trouble.
Calenelda gestured to the edge of the ruins, where a statue stood half buried in the sands. A winged figure impaled by a knight's spear. When Talia focussed she saw that the winged figure was a dead Draconian. A deep, frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course. She had to fight more than one.
"You fought a draconian warband."
"It wasn't a warband."
"Calenelda."
"It was more of a scouting force."
Talia's eye twitched. "A scouting force."
"Yes."
"You fought a scouting force."
"Well..."
"You fought a scouting force ALONE."
"I wasn't alone. I had Stonefang."
Talia threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Oh good. A wolf."
"He's a very capable wolf." Calenelda objected.
Talia grunted heavily. She didn't know she could get even more frustrated. Even Stonefang looked mildly offended.
Then Talia found her words again. "I found you unconscious! Covered in blood!"
"I was conscious for most of it."
"That is not helping!"
Calenelda flinched. Not from the shouting. From the fear underneath it. Because now she could hear it, the tremble in Talia's voice. The panic. The anger. The relief. All tangled together. Talia turned away sharply and for a moment neither spoke.
Then Calenelda said quietly. "Foxglove is still in there."
Talia froze. Then slowly looked back. Of course that was what lingered on Calenelda's mind.
"No."
Calenelda sat up despite the pain. "We have to go back."
"No."
"There are more draconians."
"I KNOW." Talia pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. "Gahh, you can be so infuriating."
"They'll kill her." Calenelda almost whispered.
"And they almost killed you!" Talia lashed out with an anger she wasn't aware she was holding back.
Silence followed. Heavy and painful silence.
Calenelda looked away first. "I promised the Nyxir."
Talia laughed. Not because anything was funny, but because she was angry.
"So that's it?"
Calenelda frowned. "What?"
"You promised him."
"Yes."
"And that's worth your life?"
Calenelda hesitated. That in itself was answer enough. Talia's expression hardened.
"There it is."
"Talia—"
"There. It. Is."
The noblewoman took a step forward. "You always do this."
Calenelda blinked. "Do what?"
"You decide everyone else matters more than you do."
Calenelda looked genuinely confused.
"What are you talking about?"
Talia stared at her in disbelief. Then in frustration. Then something deeper.
"Do you know what I saw when I found you?"
For once Calenelda remained silent.
"I saw someone who would die for a promise." Talia's voice cracked. "I saw someone who would die for strangers." She took a step forward. "I saw someone who would die for me."
Calenelda swallowed. "Talia—"
"But never someone who thinks she's worth saving herself."
The words landed hard, because they were true. And Calenelda knew it. The silence stretched. Then she looked away.
"I don't know how."
Talia blinked. "What?"
Calenelda laughed softly. A broken laugh.
"I don't know how." Her hands clenched. "Everyone always needed something." Her voice grew quieter. "The patrols. The city. The temple. The arena. Stonefang."
The names kept coming. "The refugees. The pilgrims. The children. The wounded. Talia."
That one hurt most. Calenelda stared at the ground.
"I know how to help. I have the power to help." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I know how to protect people. I know how to carry things. I know how to keep promises."
She looked up, and for the first time Talia saw the wetness in her eyes. A fragility she didn't know Calenelda was capable of.
"And if I stop..." The vulnerability in her eyes nearly broke Talia. "Then what am I?" She paused for a long while. "If I stop… I am my parents." Another pause. "I can't be my parents Talia. I can't become that person."
For a moment neither moved.
Then Talia whispered. "Calenelda..."
And finally she understood. Not the Diviner. Not the hero in the alley. Not the arena champion. Just the woman.
The woman who had spent her entire life earning her right to exist through sacrifice. The woman who genuinely believed her value came from what she could do for others. And nothing else. Talia's anger softened, only slightly.
"You're an idiot."
Calenelda blinked. "What?"
"A stubborn idiot." She flicked Calenelda's forehead.
"Talia—"
"A reckless idiot." Another flick followed.
"I—"
"A self-sacrificing idiot." A tap this time.
Calenelda couldn't even argue. Because it was true.
"You can't become your parents." Talia folded her arms. "I know you. We've been through enough together to know who you are. And it's not that kind of person."
Then another frustration surfaced. One that had been festering for weeks. Months. Maybe longer. Talia thought back on what Captain Laskaris had said. Talk to her.
-Tan'Thalon: Council Hall-
The Iron vanguard commander had chosen a path forward. They were to meet with the council and convey their reports about the battle with Kerryth Vaal there. If they were to continue their work with threats like these, they would need better protection. Lazulli engines. The works. Though navigating the council had never been Serenya's strongest suit. She was military driven and straight to the point. Varros and her had never even noticed how big the council hall actually was. The building was there for one thing, to impress. It's construction for acoustics. The archways and domes inside were a dead giveaway to that. Walls lined with tapestry and statues larger than any man. Serenya and Varros were on the taller side for a typical human. While Elira wasn't particularly small for a woman, she still had to give a few inches to her commander. But even they were dwarfed by the hall's impressive size.
Serenya swayed the large oaken doors to the council chamber open with the grandeur only someone of her status could get away with. Its hinges protested with a creaking noise, though heavy as the doors were, Serenya opened them with ease. She expected an audience with Maranth and Veyra, but what she found horrified her more than facing Kerryth Vaal again. Elira turned to her, lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper.
"Commander? What is this?"
Serenya looked over the courtroom. At the central pedestal beneath the mosaic dome, stood Maranth and Veyra indeed, seemingly in a frantic discussion with the gathered nobles. Serenya shook her head as realisation dawned on her.
"We all already know how this will end. Let's get this over with."
As they moved towards the gathered audience, Elira scanned her surroundings. She couldn't help it, such was her nature. Amongst the nobles she recognized one from her investigations. Standing in shining gold plated armor like a human beacon basking in attention. Eldarion. Immaculate as ever.
The three continued down the central path, up to where Maranth and Veyra stood.
Serenya leaned in close, keeping her voice down with military discipline. "I thought this was a private briefing. What is this Maranth?"
"So did I," Varros muttered beside her.
Eldarion rose to attention. His smile was polite. Too polite.
"...Commander Serenya," he greeted. "Captain Varros. Lady Eli..."
"Captain." Elira cut him off, visually annoying him greatly. "Captain Thane."
Elira had always been witty and quick to correct. Especially with annoying brats like these nobles. She exchanged a glance with Serenya.
"This wasn't the arrangement."
"No," Maranth admitted with visible annoyance. "It wasn't."
"The nobles invoked Article Twelve," Veyra explained evenly. "Any proposal involving the Lazulli reserves must be witnessed by representatives of the Great Houses."
"They heard about Kerryth Vaal?" Varros asked.
"THEY heard enough," Eldarion replied before anyone else could, his fingers drumming lightly against polished wood. "A report reached us this morning. An Arcanist capable of destroying an Iron Vanguard company." He smiled pleasantly. "It is... an extraordinary claim."
Serenya stepped forward. "It isn't a claim."
"No?"
"No."
The room remained silent for a while. Varros was the one who broke it.
"I watched him erase three shields with one spell."
Elira nodded. "I saw him stop arrows in the air."
"And crumble our armor to rust," Serenya added.
A murmur spread among the nobles. One elderly lord scoffed.
"Convenient embellishments."
Elira recognized Lord Halvek. The noble Eldarion had persuaded.
Another leaned forward. "If such power existed, where has it been all these years?"
"A fair question," Eldarion said.
Serenya's jaw tightened. "Because he was hiding."
"Hm." Eldarion looked almost sympathetic. "Or perhaps battle has a way of magnifying memories."
Varros took a threatening step. "Careful."
"I'm being careful." The noble spread his hands. "I merely suggest that extraordinary measures require extraordinary evidence."
Veyra finally spoke. "The commanders are not prone to exaggeration."
"No," Eldarion agreed. "But they are prone to exhaustion."
His eyes drifted across the three veterans. "You fought. You bled. You lost people." He folded his hands together. "It would hardly be the first time survivors believed they witnessed something impossible."
Elira's voice became ice. A rare occasion for her. "Are you calling us liars?"
"I'm suggesting trauma clouds certainty."
Maranth exhaled heavily. "Enough."
The chamber quieted.
"The request before this council is simple." He looked toward Serenya. "You seek authorization to activate the Lazulli engines."
"Yes."
"For what purpose?"
Serenya answered immediately. "If Kerryth Vaal survives—and I believe he did—we cannot defend Tan'Thalon without them."
Another noble laughed softly. "So displace the engines from where they are needed most because one enemy frightened the Vanguard?"
Varros rounded on him. "Frightened?" His voice echoed through the chamber. "He sent an entire battalion to the hospital." He took another step. "He tore stone apart with his bare hands." Another step. "He burned men inside enchanted armor." Now towering at full height before the noble, fists shaking with barely contained anger. "He nearly killed us all."
Silence followed. Even the skeptical nobles shifted uneasily.
Then Eldarion spoke again. "Yet he did not."
Varros stared. "...What?"
"He nearly killed you. But he didn't." His voice remained calm. "So here you stand."
He folded his hands. "I do not deny your battle was terrible. I question only your conclusion."
Maranth rubbed his temples. "Eldarion..."
The older noble inclined his head respectfully. "My Lord Speaker."
"If the Lazulli engines are awakened unnecessarily..." He paused with practised theatrics. "...we diminish our greatest strategic reserve." Another practised pause. "...we expose their workings....and we risk depleting crystals that cannot simply be mined anew."
Several nobles nodded, one after another. Serenya could almost see the tide turning. Not that she didn't expect this outcome. Maranth saw it too. He looked genuinely frustrated.
"I cannot overrule them." The admission hung heavily. "The Charter requires consensus where the Lazulli reserves are concerned."
Varros muttered something decidedly unfit for the chamber. Veyra ignored him.
"What would satisfy the council?"
Eldarion answered before anyone else. "Proof."
Elira crossed her arms. "What kind of proof?"
"Substantial proof." He rose slowly. "A recovered artifact. A surviving construct. Records. Captured witnesses. Something beyond testimony." He looked directly at Serenya. "If this Kerryth Vaal truly possesses the power you describe...there will be evidence. If the Iron Vanguard can present it…" He paused again, practised for maximum effect. "...I will personally support reopening this discussion."
The nobles murmured their agreement. Maranth's shoulders slumped.
"It is... a reasonable compromise."
Varros looked as though he might punch the nearest pillar.
Serenya simply nodded once. "When do we report back?"
"Whenever you have your proof," Eldarion replied with a smile that never reached his eyes. "But I would advise haste."
He glanced toward one of the high windows, where the setting sun cast long crimson beams across the floor. "If your enemy is as formidable as you believe… he may not wait for our debates to conclude."
The meeting dissolved shortly afterward. As the nobles filed out, Eldarion lingered just long enough to meet Veyra's gaze. There was something unreadable there. Not triumph or doubt, but calculation. Veyra watched him leave. Only when the great doors shut behind the last noble did she speak quietly enough that only Maranth heard.
"He wanted this delayed."
Maranth frowned. "You think so?"
"I know so."
-The desert: Unknown ruins-
The desert wind swept over the dunes, carrying distant echoes from the ruins. Before Talia could say anything about what happened between them, Calenelda broke the silence.
"We need to go back."
Talia groaned. "Of course that's where your mind goes."
"She'll be terrified."
"You're injured."
"She'll be terrified and I'll be injured."
Talia pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are impossible."
Calenelda smiled faintly. "I've been told that."
"By me."
"Mostly by you."
Despite herself, Talia smiled. Then her expression became serious again. The reality of their situation settled over them.
"Let's assume you're right," she said. "Let's assume Foxglove is alive." Calenelda nodded. "Then what?"
The question lingered. Talia looked toward the distant ruins.
"The draconian you killed wasn't an initiate."
"No."
"There are more."
"Yes."
"Many more."
Calenelda was quiet. Then she nodded again. "Probably."
Talia folded her arms. "And even together..." She hated admitting it. "...I'm not sure we win."
Calenelda didn't argue. That alone was concerning. Talia noticed.
"You agree."
"Against enough of them?" Calenelda admitted. "Without my magic at full disposal… Yes."
The answer surprised even her. The younger Calenelda would have charged forward regardless. The woman sitting beside her now looked genuinely troubled. In that moment Talia also realised that Calenelda had fought and survived against impossible things.. Seven foot tall scaly muscular things. And she had done so while being exhausted and her magic reserve nearly drained. For a split second, that realization filled her with a sense of awe.
"We need help." Calenelda admitted.
Talia laughed softly. "From who?"
Neither answered immediately. The names came and went. Laskaris? Too far away. The Vanguard? Not enough time. The Council? Absolutely not. Stonefang? Already injured.
The conclusion was unavoidable. There was nobody. No cavalry. No rescue. No convenient ally waiting just beyond the horizon. Just the two of them. And even together they might not be enough. Calenelda looked toward the ruins. Her expression darkened.
"There's something else."
Talia immediately picked up on the change. "What?"
Calenelda hesitated. Then slowly answered. "The energy."
"What energy?"
"The ruins."
Talia frowned. Calenelda's fingers brushed the sand.
"I can feel it."
"The same way you sensed things in Tan'thalon?"
"Similar. Like that time we faced those assassins on the rooftop."
The wind shifted around them. Calenelda's expression grew thoughtful.
"Not identical. But familiar."
Talia waited. Calenelda looked toward the distant silhouette of the ruins.
"It's the same feeling I had in the temple."
That got Talia's attention. "The temple?"
Calenelda nodded. "In Bahk'Ehmet."
"The one beneath the dunes."
"The place where I first felt..." she paused. "...something watching."
A chill ran down Talia's spine. The temple had changed everything. The change in both of them. The fear it took away. The growing mysteries surrounding May'Jahan. None of it had started in Tan'thalon. It had started there. And now Calenelda was sensing the same presence again. Which meant the draconians might not be searching for Foxglove at all. Or Lazulli. Or treasure. They might be searching for something much older. Something sacred. Or dangerous. And they might find something else entirely… Ba'Ham.
Talia was still considering that possibility when another realization struck her. She looked at Calenelda. Then looked again and blinked. Calenelda heard the sequence.
"What?"
Talia gestured vaguely. "Are you..." She gestured Calenelda up and down. "...aware of your current situation?"
Calenelda looked down, or more felt herself down. Tugging at what remained of her tunic. That was enough to snap one of the strands still in existence. Talia had long noticed that Calenelda wasn't wearing any undergarment, which made it hard for her to keep her blushing to a minimum. She had thought it odd since she found out that this woman was a noble. Nobles usually did wear things under their clothes. Perhaps this was a silent form of protest. Calenelda only shrugged.
"Yes."
"That's your response?"
"What should it be?"
Talia stared. "You're practically wearing bandages and optimism. In fact, you're wearing more bandages than clothes."
Calenelda looked genuinely confused. "So?"
Talia opened her mouth. Then closed it again. Because somehow Calenelda truly didn't seem bothered. Not embarrassed. Not self-conscious. Not even slightly uncomfortable. She simply existed. Entirely unbothered by how much skin she was currently showing. Talia couldn't decide whether that was confidence or madness.
"Most people would be mortified."
Calenelda snorted and waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Most people can see themselves."
"...that's not the point."
"Maybe not."
Calenelda stretched carefully before immediately regretting it. Then she smiled.
"I don't care."
Talia blinked. "What?"
Calenelda's expression softened. "I stopped worrying about what people think a long time ago." The answer came simply. Honestly. "No matter what I do, someone always has an opinion." She gave a small shrug. "They can have it." Then shrugged again. "They'll have to take me as I am."
Talia studied her. The certainty. The acceptance. The lack of shame. And suddenly she wondered if that was the real difference. Not confidence. Freedom. Calenelda wasn't afraid of being seen anymore. Not by strangers. Not by friends. Not even by Talia.
She had spent so much of her life hiding pieces of herself. Now she didn't. And there was something beautiful about that. Dangerous and terrifying, but beautiful. Talia looked away before Calenelda noticed. Or rather, pretended not to notice.
Then another thought surfaced. A strange one. An impossible one. She looked toward the ruins. Toward the draconians. Toward whatever they were searching for. Slowly, a smile appeared. Calenelda immediately became suspicious.
"You're smiling funny, aren't you?"
"I have an idea."
"Oh no."
Talia ignored her. "The draconians came here looking for their lineage. A dragon."
Calenelda froze. "...yes."
She had come to that exact same thought as well.
"They believe something ancient is buried beneath those ruins."
"Probably."
Talia's smile widened. A dangerous smile. The kind Calenelda usually wore. Which should have worried her. Instead it intrigued her.
"Talia."
The noblewoman pointed toward the horizon. Far beyond the dunes. Toward the distant sleeping shape that both of them knew existed somewhere in the desert. The ancient giant buried beneath the sands. The one Calenelda had rescued her from. The impossible thing. The Desert Colossus.
Calenelda's eyes widened. Then widened further. Then widened further still.
"Talia."
"If the draconians are looking for a dragon..."
"Talia."
"...why don't we give them one?"
Silence followed. Stonefang slowly lifted his head. Even the wolf looked concerned.
Calenelda stared at her. "Talia."
"Yes?"
"That's either the best idea you've ever had." She paused, long enough to make her doubt. "Or the worst."
Talia grinned. "Then it's a good thing we're going to find out."
For the first time since waking, Calenelda laughed. A genuine laugh. And somewhere beneath the dunes outside Tan'Thalon – something colossal stirred from its slumber.
-Tan'Thalon: Selvara's Salon-
The Moon-Glass Salon had had a strange attraction to Eldarion lately. Was it the rich adornment that decorated the inside? Tapestry in all shapes and sizes and different shades of purple and bordeaux. Or the candlelit secluded spaces where he could enjoy a drink in peace. Though he was usually joined by the blonde lady with the violet eyes. He found her intriguing. She made him feel strong and just. Proud. Wanted.
Her advice had proven fruitful to him. His position in the council was now stronger than ever. He had even stood up to the Vanguard Commander and won his point. This double scotch he had earned. And he intended to savour every drop of it. With a content sigh he leaned back in his secluded space.
"Lord Eldarion. What a pleasant surprise." A voice as sweet as honey said.
He swirled his scotch around and took a sip before looking up to see Selvara's accompanying sweet smile. An thinly veiled attempt to mask his enthusiasm at seeing her again. She had been a great help in strengthening his position in the council.
"Salutations Lady Selvara. May'Jahan's blessing."
"May I?" Selvara asked sweetly while already being in the process of seating herself.
She knew Eldarion wouldn't refuse. Or rather, couldn't. She'd made sure the scene was perfectly set for that. The servant who had been making his way toward the alcove with another glass suddenly paused, frowned as though remembering another errand, and turned away. A pair of merchants laughed loudly nearby before drifting toward another corner of the salon, leaving the secluded booth wrapped once more in comfortable silence. Selvara folded one leg over the other with effortless grace, showing her carefully selected stockings. Elegant and designed to show curves without looking desperate.
"You seem pleased with yourself."
Eldarion allowed himself a restrained smile. "I have reason to be."
"I heard." Her fingers idly traced the rim of the untouched crystal glass before her. "The Vanguard's request was denied."
"Postponed."
"Of course." She smiled. "The distinction matters."
"It does." He lifted his glass. "They wanted Lazulli reserves released on the testimony of three soldiers."
"They are more than soldiers."
"They're emotional." He took another sip.
"They fought a difficult battle. I don't doubt that. But..." He shrugged. "I doubt their conclusions."
Selvara's smile widened almost imperceptibly. "And Maranth?"
"He couldn't overrule the Charter. Exactly as you predicted."
She inclined her head graciously. "I merely informed you of the council's procedures."
"You informed me of far more than that."
For a moment, she simply watched the candlelight dance inside his whisky.
"I gave you information. You decided how to use it."
He found himself smiling again. "A useful distinction."
"I find most truths are."
Silence settled comfortably between them. At length, Eldarion leaned forward.
"There is one thing I don't understand." He said, stroking his fingers over his imaginary beard.
Selvara looked up. "Oh?"
"Why delay them?"
Her fingers stilled.
"The Vanguard." He lowered his voice. "If Kerryth Vaal truly exists..."
"If."
"...if...then surely time is against us."
He searched her violet eyes. "So why encourage me to block their request?"
For the first time that evening, Selvara did not answer immediately. Instead, she reached for her wine. The candle beside her flickered. Its flame stretched unnaturally high. For only an instant. The violet of her eyes caught the light—
No. They produced it. A pulse of brilliant amethyst radiated from her irises before fading as though nothing had happened. Eldarion blinked. Had he imagined it?
"Tell me, Lord Eldarion..." Her voice was softer now. "...what happens to a commander who is given everything she asks for?"
He frowned. "She succeeds."
"Perhaps." She tilted her head. "And what happens when she asks...and is proven wrong?"
He considered it. "...he loses credibility."
"And what happens when another councillor remains calm...asks for evidence...protects the city's greatest resource...and is later proven right?"
The answer came almost before he realised he'd spoken.
"They become indispensable."
Selvara smiled.
"There." She lifted her glass. "You answered your own question."
Eldarion sat back slowly. "So this wasn't about delaying the Vanguard."
"I never said it was."
"It was about strengthening my influence."
She said nothing. The silence itself felt like agreement. His thoughts raced. Of course. If the Vanguard returned empty-handed, the council would remember who had kept Tan'Thalon's reserves safe. If they returned with proof…
He would be the reasonable councillor who had demanded evidence before committing priceless resources. Either way… He won. A smile crept across his face.
"You're remarkably perceptive."
Selvara lowered her gaze modestly. "I simply dislike haste."
Another flicker. Again those violet eyes glowed. Longer this time. The shadows around the alcove seemed to deepen, swallowing the distant conversations until the rest of the salon felt impossibly far away.
"Power," she murmured, "is rarely taken."
Eldarion leaned in unconsciously.
"It is offered. It is entrusted. It is earned." Her eyes shone like polished amethyst. "And once people believe you indispensable...they stop asking who placed you there."
The words settled somewhere deep inside him. He felt taller. Stronger. The uncertainty that had haunted him since the council chamber evaporated like mist beneath the morning sun.
"You think I could lead them."
Selvara's smile warmed. "I think Tan'Thalon needs someone willing to make difficult decisions."
"And Maranth?"
"He grows tired. Old"
"Veyra?"
"She grows cautious."
"And the Vanguard?"
Her smile lingered. "They grow desperate."
She leaned back, and with that simple movement the strange pressure around the alcove vanished. The candles burned normally once more. Conversations drifted back into earshot. It was as though the world itself had resumed. Eldarion finished the last of his scotch.
"I must admit..." He looked at her curiously. "...there are times I wonder how you always seem to know what will happen."
Selvara laughed—a soft, genuine sound that carried just enough mystery to make him wonder.
"Oh, Lord Eldarion." She rose gracefully from her seat. "I don't know the future."
She brushed an invisible speck of dust from his shoulder.
"I simply know people."
She offered a courteous bow before turning to leave. As she disappeared into the sea of velvet and candlelight, the faintest smile touched her lips. Eldarion never noticed the small shimmer of violet that lingered in the air where she had stood. Nor did he notice that, from the moment she had sat down until the moment she left, not a single patron had once looked toward their secluded alcove. It was as if, for a little while, the Moon-Glass Salon itself had forgotten they were there.
Out of sight, the servant came up to Selvara with a glass of wine in hand. He went to offer it to her, but before she accepted, brought to his lips and took a sip. With a smug smirk on his lips he savoured the flavor. Then, after a moment of silence.
"What was that all about Selvara?".
"Careful now.. Your arrogance will end you one day." Her violet eyes squeezed to slits like only housecats could do.
It was just that this cat had amethyst light shining through the slits. Just like that the world around them seemed to stop and the servant saw himself impaled by arrows. His tunic soaking red in blood. He didn't seem amused by it.
"Very funny.. You'll have to do better than that to affect me." His expression remained blank.
After another flash of amethyst light, his appearance changed slowly as the veil Selvara had placed on him was lifted. The servant's posture changed first. His back straightened. The submissive smile disappeared. Even the way he held the wineglass became deliberate.
Then the face began to ripple. Slowly but surely he took his original shape once more. Kerryth Vaal.
"Don't forget Vaal. I know who you are. Who you were.." Selvara warned.
She showed a genuine smile, with a flash of violet. Though with an illusionist as skilled as her there was no telling when a smile was actually sincere. A painting on the wall warped to show an elementalist losing control during a surge and killing three bystanders. Kerryth remembered the scent of burnt flesh. It was almost as if he could smell it again. The elementalist was consoled by everyone. Next it showed a young Kerryth weaving a lazulli construct. It destabilized and injured an observer. The smell of burning Lazulli flooded his nose. He heard the screaming again. Felt hot crystal shards tear through his hands. Heard the council's verdict.
Reckless. Irresponsible. Unfit.
He was scolded for it, the elementalist praised. That hit a nerve with him. He closed his fists, squeezing so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Like I told Eldarion. I know people." She took the glass of wine from him and sipped. "Useful, isn't he?"
"He's stronger than he was." Kerryth replied flatly.
Selvara smiled. "People are remarkably eager to hand power to those who tell them what they already wish to believe."
"He has no idea he's being used."
"Neither do most kings." Selvara made an indifferent shrug of her shoulder.
"You almost sound fond of him." Kerryth almost squeezed his eyes in contempt.
"I don't need to be fond of a chess piece."
She made a graceful turn on her heels, letting her skirt follow the flow, before looking over her shoulder one final time.
"Thank you for your contribution. It was invaluable."
As Selvara disappeared into the crowd, Kerryth looked around the salon. The patrons laughed. Musicians played. Glasses clinked. No one looked at him. Had they truly never seen him...or had Selvara decided they hadn't?
-The desert: Unknown ruins-
As the sun climbed ever higher, it warped the shadows cast by the ruins. Talia and Calenelda had retreated to a safer distance from the Draconians. They couldn't afford a direct confrontation with them. They needed a plan first. A plan on how to call the Colossus. They had been amused by how Talia started to sound more like her, which had caused Calenelda to burst into laughter. Her laughter faded into a thoughtful smile.
Then Talia's expression changed. She had been watching her carefully. Too carefully.
And Calenelda noticed. "What?"
"There's something I haven't told you." Calenelda's smile disappeared. "That sounds ominous."
"It is." Talia sounded cautious.
"Excellent."
Talia sighed. "You're double awakened."
Calenelda stared at her. "...I'm what?"
"Double awakened." Talia pronounced each word separately and clearly.
"I heard the words."
"Good."
"I just don't know what they mean."
Talia's eyebrows rose. "You don't know?"
Calenelda shrugged. "I'm self-taught."
"I know."
"I learned earth magic because the ground doesn't require me to see it."
"Calenelda."
"And air because apparently nearly dying in a sandstorm is educational."
Talia stared at her in confusion. "That's not how elementalism works."
Calenelda pulled her shoulders up. "Worked for me."
"That's exactly the problem." Talia pinched the bridge of nose at this impossible woman.
Calenelda frowned. Talia moved closer.
"In the ruins, you used earth and air."
"I know."
"Together."
Calenelda's brow furrowed. "I've always used them separately."
"I don't think you realised or noticed, but you illuminated the dark at times with flashes..." Talia was very careful in her wording. That made Calenelda pause.
"I did? But how?"
"Lightning Calenelda. You created lightning." Talia paused.
Calenelda looked away. "Wonderful."
"That's not the part you should be worried about."
"What part should I be worried about?"
Talia's voice softened. "The fact that you shouldn't be able to do it. No study has ever reported elementalists that could create lightning.. Not alone."
Calenelda was silent. Talia continued.
"Elementalists normally awaken to one element. That's it. Most spend their entire lives mastering that one connection."
Calenelda nodded. "Yes."
"You awakened earth."
"I know."
"And then air."
"I know that too."
"Under extreme stress."
Calenelda's expression slowly changed. "The sandstorm."
Talia nodded. "You were protecting me. The patrol. You pushed your earth magic until you were nearly dead."
Calenelda's fingers tightened around the edge of the cloak she had commandeered from Talia to protect against the sun. "And that's when it happened."
"I think so."
Calenelda looked down towards her hands. "I thought I was just... doing something different."
"That's because you have apparently spent your entire life teaching yourself magic without bothering to learn what the rest of the world already knows."
Calenelda looked offended. "I had books."
"Apparently not enough books."
"I had several."
"How many?"
"...three."
Talia stared. "Three?"
"They were very good books."
"That's not enough.." Talia slapped the palm of her hand to her forehead.
"Hey! It's not my fault there aren't many books that I can read." Calenelda looked even more offended. "I know it's easy to forget, but the world isn't always built for the blind."
Calenelda crossed her arms and huffed.
"Why didn't you ask anyone for help then?"
"I'm independent."
"May'Jahan preserve me."
Calenelda smiled faintly. "She seems to be trying."
The humor disappeared quickly. Talia crouched in front of her.
"This isn't funny." Talia tried to get her to take this seriously.
"I know."
"No, you don't." Talia's voice carried something deeper now. Fear. "If the cultists learn what you are—"
"They already know I exist. I stopped plenty in the city."
"They know you're an elementalist." Talia pointed at her. "That is different."
Calenelda's expression tightened. "How different?"
"Because a double awakening isn't just rare." Talia hesitated. "It's something people have written prophecies about."
Calenelda tilted her head. "Prophecies?"
"The Event Horizon Child."
Calenelda's face went blank. "...that sounds dramatic."
"It is."
"Who writes these things?"
"Ancient scholars."
"Of course."
Talia ignored her. "The prophecy speaks of someone who awakens repeatedly under extreme conditions."
Calenelda's humor faded. "And then?"
Talia looked directly into her pale green eyes. "Eventually, all four elements. Someone who crosses what they call the elemental event horizon."
Silence ensued. Calenelda looked toward the distant ruins. "That's impossible."
"Maybe."
"But you're worried."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you've already done it twice." Calenelda swallowed. Talia continued. "And you keep putting yourself in situations where you're almost killed."
Calenelda gave her an annoyed look. "That isn't intentional."
"It certainly seems to happen frequently."
"Perhaps the world has something against me."
"Perhaps you have something against living."
Calenelda's expression hardened. "That's unfair."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"You nearly died today."
"I was trying to save Foxglove."
"You nearly died in the sandstorm."
"I was trying to save you."
That stopped Talia. The words sat between them. Calenelda realized what she'd said. Her expression softened. Then hardened again.
"And you kissed me."
Talia froze. There it was. The thing neither of them wanted to touch. Calenelda looked away.
"And afterward you decided duty was more important."
Talia's jaw tightened. "That's not what happened."
"It felt like it."
"You don't know what I was thinking."
"No." Calenelda's voice was quiet. "Because you wouldn't tell me."
Talia looked down. The silence hurt.
Calenelda continued. "So forgive me if I'm not particularly interested in being told what I should fear now."
Talia looked back at her. "I'm not trying to control you."
"You're doing a remarkable imitation."
"I'm trying to keep you alive."
"You keep saying that."
"Because you keep making it necessary!" The air stirred. Sand lifted around them. Calenelda's eyes narrowed. Talia didn't back down. "If the Circle of Veils discovers you're double awakened, they'll watch you."
"The cult?"
"The Circle. Ba'ham's people. The Wardens. Possibly the council."
Calenelda's face tightened. "And if they believe the prophecy?"
"Then you won't be a person anymore." Talia's voice dropped. "You'll become a possibility."
A weapon. A symbol. A threat. A prophecy waiting to happen. Calenelda understood. She looked toward the ruins. Then toward Talia.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Stop throwing yourself into danger."
Calenelda gave her a flat look. "You're asking the wrong woman."
"I know."
"And if Foxglove is still alive?"
"Then we make a plan."
Calenelda considered this. "A plan involving the giant monster?"
Talia smiled faintly. "The dragon."
"The thing that will probably kill us."
"That too."
Calenelda shook her head. "You're impossible."
"You love me."
Calenelda went completely still. Talia did too. Neither of them spoke. Then Calenelda's mouth curved into the smallest smile. "Apparently."
Talia looked away, cheeks warming. "Don't make me regret saying that."
"You already regret everything." Talia's eyes snapped back toward her. "Calenelda."
"What?"
"You are infuriating."
"And you're still staring."
"I am not."
"You are."
Talia looked away again. Calenelda smiled. For a moment, the tension between them softened. But neither forgot what Talia had said. The Event Horizon. The cultists. The possibility that Calenelda's second awakening was not the end. Only the beginning.