It felt like being home.
Without looking around I waved my hand, drawing all the curtains closed with a flick of the wrist. Without preamble, I stripped bare. Looking at the ostentatious basin of copper gold, I flicked my wrist again, turning the faucet, watching as steamy hot water gushed into the basin. Using the water scents close to the basin, I poured them in, relishing in the light, but sweet aroma.
I stepped into the basin, sank in, and nearly started crying. Stars. My body needed this. I sank into the hot water, still rising,until I was up to my neck. I closed my eyes, just for a moment, breathing in.
I was officially an Ascendant. Soon, whenever the first trial finally happened, I would become a Disciple.
I thought over the events of the dawn. Tharic Zamarien and his bloodthirst. Presbitari Davithius. Presbitari Kaelthos. Farasee Esau. The joy of hugging Granmanmi again. Getting assigned to Incense Order. The dragons. The leering Farasees.
Him.
Quazar Valoryen.
I groaned. I couldn’t believe I’d lost my temper like that and attacked him. I wasnotsome barbarian like he was. I’d have to watch myself around him. He looked like the type to provoke you on purpose just to have a reason to draw blood.
I snorted, eyes still closed. I wondered if the female who looked like him was his family. Maybe his sister? A younger kouzi? She was physically strong, but looked so young. Why was she enrolled in a war college?
Flicking my wrist, a soft melody slipped into the chamber, soothing my thoughts. I needed to calm my mind. I was thinking too much. Too fast. I needed to mentally rest.
I sunk into the water, soaking my hair completely. I went through the meticulous love ritual of washing my hair. With it being so long, I had to split it into six sections, pinning them each so I could thoroughly wash and condition each section.
I lost track of time as I hummed to the soft melodies while lathering shampoo and conditioner into each strand of hair from my scalp to the very ends of my hair shaft. I gently detangled the strands with my fingers, careful not to let my lengthy nails snag on the ends. I let the conditioner sit in my hair while I scrubbed myself nearly raw, trying to remove the chaos of the dawn from my body. If only it were that easy to scrub my mind, too.
I wouldn’t forget the females Tharic tossed off the bridge. The males he killed before they could make it into Scroll Order. I wouldn’t soon forget Kaelthos having the audacity to call me a bloodthorn in front of the entire Order. Farasee Esauenjoyingmy being bonded to the Fallen Prince. The Farasees who leered at me like they planned to drag me into their beds. Nor the burning hatred in Quazar Valoryen’s emerald eyes.
Enemies. I had many enemies on every side. I had to be careful in this temple. Or I would die quicker than I could dream about becoming a Farasee.
I rinsed my body, my hair, and toweled off, taking my time lathering on lotion and body oil to every inch of skin before dressing in my temple gown. The golden fabric covered the length of my neck, hugged every curve deliciously, while tumbling down the length of my body. I flew to the wall-length mirror in the washroom, taking a good look.
I had to give credit to whoever stocked our chambers. I had an endless supply of hair oils available. I could almost weep. Popping the gilded lid off one, I slathered my hands with oil and began applying it. By the time I was done oiling and twisting my hair so the coils would hang prettily, my arms were burning.
I stalked back into my chamber and found a floating scrollport waiting for me. I ogled the cylindrical object, curious at the message inside. The insignia of Incense Order was branded on it. My stomach growled as I passed a platter of food laid out beautifully for me to dig in. I reached out to take a piece of cheese.
Then paused.
That wasn’t there when I entered my washroom.
I blinked at the platter as my stomach growled louder. I looked to the scrollport, at the food, then back at the scrollport. I opted to open the scrollport first.
The vibrant image of a Babephim—angels of the messenger rank—surfaced. She was beautiful and cheery. I was immediately suspicious of the message she was tasked to deliver. The Babephim floated over the scrollport as if she was actually in my chamber. She looked so real I wanted to poke her shoulder and confirm it for myself. She opened her mouth and began reciting her message.
“Wings high, Ascendant. Angels do not live by Manna alone, but by all the written words that come from the Infinite himself. If you choose to live by your stomach, we’re given no other choice. We will choose to let you die by it. Long may you live, and well may you Ascend.”
The moment she finished, she wrapped her wings around herself and completely disappeared. The scrollport wrapped itself up on its own and grew dull, no longer shining with a message that needed to be heard. I placed the scrollport on a table and turned back to the platter of food.
If you choose to live by your stomach, we’re given no other choice. We will choose to let you die by it.
The food and drink was a test. Starve and pass. Or eat and die.
“What in the stars?—”
A piercing scream exploded outside of my chamber doors from the main hall of our Order’s tower. I whipped around, running for the door, yanking it open with a wing. When I ran outside, the rest of Seventh Choir was in the hall, equally confused.
“I thought it was one of you!” I yelled.
“So did we!” Isandra said.
Amayah and Kazemir were glaring at our main doors that led to the outside.
