I’m back in the ring, my boots digging into the grit and sand, and Ten’s coming at me with a blade. I pull and thrash against my captor, but he won’t budge, and he smirks in my face.
“It is true then. Not so scary without your powers, huh.” I pull my fist back and take aim.
“Hey, Ever. Let me.” Calix catches my fist in his and nods to me before unleashing his own punch, sending the Warrior tumbling over.
“Arghhh, you can’t do that,” he complains behind his hands, protecting his now very broken nose.
“He can. He was protecting a fellow trainee.” General Aster’s presence looms large over the Warrior now bleeding onto the stone floor
“Aster, what are you doing?” Orion shrieks.
“The right thing.”
“Stand down.”
“No.” Ten blocks his father, inciting their own standoff.
The room has parted into two factions. Not for or against the Guards and Orion’s new plan, and not those with or with less magic, but those for or against me.
I thought I would come here and offer a voice, like the Maker said, about her taking rule in place of the Orders. Instead, I have only added to the problems they face.
The bickering, the opposition, the two sides continue to mount before me, and it is paralysing to watch.
I don’t belong here.
It’s the strongest single thought in my mind and impossible to ignore.
I pull Lyle down the steps and catch Ten moving towards me, no longer the buffer between his father and me.
“This isn’t what I want. I can’t be the reason for this.” I grab his arms as I feel myself fall into panic.
“Hey, this isn’t on you. My father will come around. He’ll see.” Ten rubs my arms, pushing a warmth into them through the thin sparkling material.
I look around and see Orion heading for the dais. But the familiar, and now welcome, strike of the Maker’s staff on the stone stops everyone in the room.
“It is clear that you all have forgotten what Aslendrix values above all.” She uses her voice as her introduction, and walks from the back of the room, parting us as she does. She climbs the steps, beating Orion to the pinnacle, before turning to us all—her subjects. “Balance. She has waited. She has watched. And now you turn on the one that has saved you from a fate that would signal a reckoning like no other.” The Maker’s command begs no interruptions, but the people around us look to me. “You are all here while the rest of Kirrasia mourns. You bicker over deception and power. You are lucky you still have your magic,” she scolds.
Her Triune appear and carry her chair, the same one that looks like it’s grown from trees themselves, and place it under the statue of Aslendrix. She hobbles her way over and takes her seat.
Ten places his hand on my shoulder as we wait for what else she has to say.
“We will not ostracise the Guard Order. That is final. Decisions governing Kirrasia, trials, and positions won’t be decided as they were before. Your magic, when you were born, and your unique gifts will all still have strength, but we will not hold that as the key regard any longer.”
The room erupts into noise, but her staff strikes against the stone, silencing everyone.“We have tried it your way, and that has led to nothing but division and uprising. Balance. Peace—these must be preserved.”Her voice erupts inside our minds, silencing anyone who dares speak up against the daughter of the Goddess.
“Punishments have been imposed. There is no single Order that is above us all. We will not do this through more division. Kirrasia must find a way to come back together. This will be the way.”
Nobody speaks. Nobody dares.
“We will be vulnerable now, more so, because we have allowed fear and power to rule decisions. We must remember our place. Give thanks to our Goddess.” She speaks aloud this time.
“Blessed may she ever be.” The chorus rises up.
“These changes will see the Orders answer to me. I will no longer be a bystander. Is that understood? Kirrasia will prevail.”
My shoulders sag, and I release the fear that had settled inside of me. She did it. She intervened, and it hasn’t cost me.
It might be my choice for Kirrasia, but the Chamber members aren’t without questions. Grumbles and murmursgrow louder. I don’t have sympathy. How can I, for these are those who have sought to feather their own nest for far too long?
