Page 11 of Chaos and Crowns

“Commander…I can’t…” he stammered.

“Part of my gifts include being able to sense the Light in others,” the Commander explained, nonplussed. “It’s part of why I lead the Eteria. I can locate those who would make valuable members, and sense those who are losing their Light to the Shadow. When I met you, I was nearly blinded by your Light, even though you were but a child.

After bringing you to the Sanctuary, though, I decided to let you be. To let the will of the Light take its course. Now, I think it might be time to intervene.”

“Intervene?” Antony echoed.

“It has become clear that any greatness in your future will not be in combat.”

The sentiment made Antony want to look down at his feet, but the way she said it was so empty of judgement. Not at all what he was used to from Bakhos and the other trainees. He held her gaze as she continued.

“I’ve come to see that keeping you from fulfilling your potential in the Light simply because you haven’t taken to swinging a sword is a waste. I am excusing you from completing basic combat training, and you will instead become a full-fledged member of the Eteria and begin apprenticeship with the Smiths.”

Antony’s heart hammered, and he felt as if he was floating. Finally, he would be free of Bakhos and the endless pummeling, both physically and mentally.

“Thank you, Commander,” Antony said emphatically, bowing his head once more.

“Go gather your things,” she ordered. “You are to move to new quarters in the main Sanctuary immediately.”

Antony barely knew how to breathe as she turned away and drifted from the courtyard, a cloud of blinding white grace. He found his voice right before she stepped through the marble archway.

“Commander?”

She paused, turning back to look at him.

“You said I was the second most intense channel for the Light you’ve ever seen. Who was the first?” Antony snapped his mouth shut, realizing it was a bold question to ask, but his natural curiosity could not be contained.

The Commander didn’t seem bothered though, a rare smile appearing on her usually serene face.

“Why, myself of course,” she said before gliding around the corner and out of sight.

At that, Antony’s face split into a grin, and a laugh escaped him. If the Commander believed in him, then maybe he was destined for some great things after all.

5

When Odelle picked Antony up at the park two days later, people again stared at him, albeit more surreptitiously. Drew had taken Odelle’s words to heart: Antony looked sharper than the blades he forged. His preference for the color purple persisted, reflected in the deep amethyst of the suit he wore. Odelle couldn’t have picked a better outfit herself, and that was saying something.

Odelle tapped on her steering wheel, giving a quick honk to get Antony’s attention. He jumped visibly at the sound, head whipping back and forth, and Odelle giggled. It gave him the look of a tourist from the country, overwhelmed by the traffic noises of the city. The expression was endearing on him, but she mentally waved that thought away.

Odelle gestured him over once he caught sight of her, and he slid into the passenger seat of the car. Once his seatbelt was buckled, Odelle pulled away from the curb, cutting off a cab speeding far too fast for the business of the street. The cab driver laid on his horn, and Odelle barely restrained herself from taking her hand from the accelerator lever to flip him off.

“Worse than chariot races,” Antony grumbled from the passenger seat.

Odelle chuckled. “You’re not wrong. At least horses have agendas of their own and don’t exactly want to run into each other. Cars have no judgement, so the drivers can make them do whatever they want.”

She chanced a glance at Antony out of the side of her eye. Her heart hammered for a second as she thought he was staring at her exposed thigh, sticking out above her prosthetic where her pencil skirt had ridden up. Instead, though, he stared at the gear shift on the center console, and the levers sticking out below the steering wheel. His curiosity knew no bounds.

“These make the car accelerate and stop,” Odelle said, gesturing to the levers and hoping to distract herself from her still pounding heart. “Most people use pedals with their feet, but, well—”

Odelle gestured towards her legs, and Antony frowned.

“I’d think it would be safer for everybody to just use their hands. They seem much more coordinated than feet,” he commented.

She felt inclined to agree. But considering she had strapped her feet on in the morning for as long as she could remember, she supposed she was biased.

“I made up some business cards for you. They’re in the glove compartment. Right in front of you—the lever…there you go. People always assume you know what you’re doing if you give them a business card.”

Odelle gave Antony the rundown of her plan. She realized while setting up this interview that she wasn’t going to be able to recruit a camera man to come with them without raising too many questions. So she and “Antony Athenos” were there to gather some statements from Frederick Whitehall about his private collection and select which items should be featured. As far as Mr. Whitehall would know, a camera man was going to come later to collect some footage.