Page 45 of Fate

“It’s been fun, Conduit of Lunos.” A hand grabs hold of my now bloodstained blue cloak and pulls, a knee slamming into my back at the same time. Pain ignites instantly as I struggle to keep my balance. A cruel dagger appears in my vision as if in slow motion, poised to strike and end it all. A tiny, cowardly voice whispers deep in the back of my mind.

Would that be so bad? Why fight for a goddess who doesn’t care about you? You’ve experienced nothing but strife your entire life; let it end.

Fuck that. I have friends to protect. I have a future to create.

Power thrums through my veins, heeding my call, heeding my need. I was blinded by anger in Hecalon, blinded by the silken allure of fiery rage. Rage is a seductive poison; an unquenchable thirst. Anger boils this time, but controlled, a runaway horse finally reigned in.

“Stop.” I don’t yell. I don’t need to. Everyone freezes in place, following the command as I free myself from the clutches of the imminent strike. Nothing fancy this time. I need to conserve my strength for the backlash to come. I peel the fingers off of the dagger meant for my heart and claim it for my own; it will be better than my spear for this work, though I still carry it with me. I will have need of it after.

It’s easier than I thought it would be, killing now defenseless people. A few of the frozen enemies vibrate, trying to break free of my magic; they must be blessed. Stale air fills my lungs as I reach into my power. With a flick of a wrist, I wrap each of the blessed enemies with silver energy, severing their connection to whichever deity wants me dead. The vibrations stop immediately, fear now frozen in their eyes. That doesn’t last long as my knife works quickly. Something wet trickles across my lip as I keep a tight grip on my power. The back of my hand comes away with bright red; so much for conserving my strength. I don’t have a lot of time.

I spare a glance for Olena and Andra. Olena is fine; exhausted based on her stance, but still only sporting the blood of her enemies. My heart sinks as I see Andra stuck in time as she struggles to stand, desperately trying to defend herself with an arrow still lodged in one eye. If I survive this, maybe I can heal her.

Breathing deeply of stilled air, I stalk to the main camp, soaking the ground in blood as I go. My heart thunders when I lay eyes on her. Despite the weight of our plight, I can’t help but to take her in. If the sculptors of Hecalon saw her in this moment, inspiration would drive them to create a masterpiece. Multiple bodies lay strewn around her as she defends the priests. Mighty blade held with both hands, ready to strike down the last two attackers rushing toward her. That’s not what steals my breath; it’s her eyes. Those indomitable fields of green. They shine with preternatural beauty in the shallow moonlight.

I work my way closer as both of the attackers start to vibrate. A quick severing stills them once more before two quick cuts still them forever. Then I’m standing in front of her, the person my heart yearns for, my Helia. Up close, I see every tight line of tense muscles and the heated determination of a deadly woman. My mind goes blank as I lean in and up, kissing those frozen lips.

The borrowed dagger clatters to the ground. It did its job; now is the time to prepare for the future. Breaking the kiss and stepping back, I hold my spear out in front. Insistent pressure creeps along my spine to the base of my skull; I need to finish this quickly. Falling deep into my well of magical power, I let go of the spear as my intention holds it aloft. Silver threads of power coalesce in the stilled air, weaving around my spear, my wonderful gift. Each thread attaches to the spear, infusing it with power; infusing it with a singular goal. Even if my body can’t pay the cost this time, I’ve done it. At least Olena will be armed. At least Helia will be safe.

Finally, I step back and let go, catching the spear as it falls, leaning heavily against it. I have a few seconds before the real pain will hit, and I spend them watching Helia come alive again. I watch the battle haze lift from her, sword wavering in uncertainty, realization dawning as she sees the bloody dagger and dead enemies falling to the ground across the camp. As she sees the blood trickling down my face, my heavy lean on the spear she gifted me. I smile only for her, messy and bloodstained.

“I’m sorry.” Pain quakes across my skull in an intricate lattice of searing heat. Time’s up. I hear someone screaming as darkness clouds my sight. Screaming. Oh, wait; that’s my voice.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

PINES. THE SMELL of needles on a crisp morning, one following a night of light rain. Something else too. Camp smoke. The kind you get with wet firewood. Oh, and burning food. Olena’s doing. It has to be.

The early morning rays break through pine needles as my eyes crack open. The sounds of early morning camp life tickle my ears and, is that birds? The wildlands were devoid of life; there shouldn’t be birds chirping like this. I sit up quickly, questions whirring through my mind.

“She’s awake! Commander! She’s awake!” Bellius’s voice booms behind me. His rough hand pushes gently on my shoulder, urging me to stay put. “Easy. You’ve been out for a while. Go slow.”

I nod as Bellius helps prop me up against a tree trunk. Seems like I’m off to the side of the camp center. Looking around, it’s clear we’re not in the wildlands anymore. If anything, it looks similar to the forest we traveled through after leaving Hecalon. Oh no. Did Helia bring us back to Hecalon?! Belatedly, I realize that the sounds of chatter have stilled with Bellius’s call. None of that matters as a tall form blocks the morning sun.

Helia stands still, as though not believing her own eyes. I blink, and suddenly her weight is crushing me to the tree as Bellius shuffles away for the moment. Tears wet my neck, quiet tremors shaking the once-steady shoulders of my protector. I wrap her in my embrace, a promise of peace, a small island of relief on churning waters. Eventually, Helia stills and pulls back slightly. Her hands stay attached to me, as though I might disappear if she lets go.

“I thought I lost you.” I wipe away the streaks of tears along her cheek as she croaks out the words. Emotion threatens to overtake her again, eyes dancing across my face, memorizing every line she can see.

“You almost did, I think. It’s never hurt like that before. It must have been because of the severing.” Helia looks confused look as I notice that every member of the Spears are standing several feet behind Helia. No, not everyone. A rock sits in my stomach when the realization hits me that I must not have saved everyone. “Um, Helia? I think you might want to take a look behind you.” I guide her attention, causing her to stand up, uncertainty in her stance.

It’s silent until Andra steps forward slightly. A bandage wraps around her head diagonally, forming a makeshift eye patch. A few seconds pass with baited breath, waiting. Andra forms a fist and gently taps it to her chest, bowing her hand in deference. Everyone behind her follows suit. Olena throws me a wink, giving a modicum of normalcy.

I reach out for Helia’s hand, bracing myself to stand. My legs are watery, but I manage to struggle to my feet. Neither of us lets go of the other’s hand; I suppose our relationship is out there now. Though I bet it was never that much of a secret.

But that’s not all; they must know now that I am not like them. That I have some mystical powers only known by the gods. And yet, this is not the fear that I expected. Hand curling into a fist, I return the salute, resolving the unspoken offer of acceptance with a promise of…what? Protection? Loyalty? What do they expect from a being of power like me? As they all release their salutes and filter back out to the camp, I wonder if it matters. Andra approaches and Olena pauses behind her, still skeptical of Andra’s behavior.

“No one knows what you are, but we all know who you are. And you saved who you could. As long as any of us live, no matter what manner of being you are, you will always be a Spear.”

I nod as words fail to form in my mouth. What can I say to that? Andra thankfully turns and lumbers off, a slight tilt to her head. It will take a long time for her to adjust to one eye. Bellius shuffles after her, but not before throwing a comforting smile my way.

“That could have been worse.” Helia chuckles slightly at my attempt to lighten the mood. With a gesture to stay put, she runs off and quickly returns with a small bowl of food. A quick sniff confirms that Olena did indeed make this. Despite that, my stomach rumbles desperately. Without saying a word, I dive in, swallowing fast to avoid the acrid taste. While I sit and eat, Helia fills me in on what happened while I was unconscious.

We suffered significant casualties. Out of the thirty or so Spears, eight were killed and three others had major injuries, Andra included. Two of the priests were dead as well, though Lyras had luckily survived the attack. Apparently, while I killed everyone who directly attacked the camp, we hadn’t been able to hunt down the archers.

I had been out for five days. My spoon stilled at that; that was the longest by far. Helia choked up when she explained how for the first two days, I would periodically wake only to immediately start screaming in pain again.

“Itho, what did you do? I know the backlash of your power is intense, but this seemed…different.” Helia’s right. It was different, and I think I know why.

“I severed them.” Helia waits for more as I struggle to find the right words. “Power has to come from somewhere, right? Your power is internal from being an Aspect. Mine is internal and external. I think. But the attackers who were blessed? I’ve been thinking about it since Hecalon, but they were granted power, which means it came to them.” I gesture helplessly to the air. I don’t have the words to explain all of this. “I put a barrier of sorts between them and their borrowed power. I figured it might work.” My shrug puts a fine point on the end of that. It was a guess, one that if I had been wrong would have drained me too much to fight all of them. The chirping of a bird briefly breaks the silence, reminding me of a question.