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“I am sorry. I did not mean for my words to come across so insensitive.”
“They weren’t,” I say. “I’m fine.”
Taria dips her head, thankfully seeming to take no offense to my outburst. The priestess is silent for a moment, most likely giving me time to recompose myself. But time is not something I have. Not if I want to defeat Arluin. To free Father. To avenge Nolderan. To save Imyria.
“Though you haven’t seen Gerazad in your visions,” I begin, keeping my words steady as I speak, “that’s where Arluin is heading. We intend to follow him there, unless you have another suggestion?”
“I do not,” Taria replies. “If Gerazad is his destination as you say, then it seems following him there is the only possible course of action.”
“I don’t know why he’s traveling there, but it can’t be for any good reason. I was hoping to arrive there first and warn the orcs, so that a catastrophe can be averted. But even with a Void Prince on my side, I can’t be certain I have the means to destroy the necromancers. Would you be willing to travel with us to Gerazad?”
“I have told you already,” Natharius says with a sigh, “I am more than capable of obliterating a puny necromancer who is too big for his boots.”
“Though I have little doubt you would be an equal match for Arluin—”
“I am the Void Prince of Pride and a former High Enchanter of Lumaria during its most glorious days. He is not my equal, and you insult me by claiming as much.”
I roll my eyes. “Sorry for insulting your greatness. Besides, it isn’t only Arluin I’m concerned with you defeating, but also his necromancers and thousands of undead. Even you can’t possibly face that many enemies. And you were bested by the priestesses here at the temple. Why shouldn’t I be concerned by your capabilities?”
Natharius’s temple twitches. Perhaps I should have kept that last remark to myself. “Had you not gotten yourself poisoned, we would not have needed to come to this temple.”
“Had you been able to defeat that band of goblins more quickly, I wouldn’t have gotten myself poisoned in the first place.”
Taria lets out a gentle cough. Remembering that the priestess hasn’t yet answered my question, I turn back to her and offer an apologetic look.
“I will accompany you on your journey to Gerazad,” the priestess says. She gestures to her two guards. “As will Caya and Juron.”
I glance between the two warriors. Their eyes aren’t golden like Taria’s, and I’m not sure how much light magic they can wield—if at all. But their swords shone brightly in the city’s square today, and every blade is needed to sway the odds of victory into our favor. “Thank you. For being willing to help us.”
“No thanks is needed. The Mother showed me those visions, and she chose me for this task. As the future Grand Priestess of Selynis, it is my responsibility to protect Imyria from evil.”
A part of me wishes my motivations were as noble and pure as the priestess’s. Mine are instead fueled by hatred and wrath. The burning desire to see Arluin pay for all the atrocities he committed.
“I was hoping to leave tonight,” I reply. “Time is not a luxury we have.” Though Taria looks weary from the healing spell earlier this afternoon, she looks a little more rested.
“I understand,” Taria replies. “If we can reach Gerazad before the necromancers, then not only will we be able to warn the orcs of the impending danger, but we will also be able to set up wards around the city.”
With how easily Arluin shattered Nolderan’s defenses, I hadn’t thought about setting up wards. In fact, I haven’t thought much at all about what will happen when we reach Gerazad. If the wards are actively channeled from inside the settlement, they’ll be harder to break than turning off the Aether Tower. Though I doubt my magic will be enough, the priestess’s entire being is brimming with holy magic. And light is far more effective than aether against dark magic. Her wards would stand even stronger than Natharius’s would, since his would only be born of the same shadows which the necromancers wield themselves.
“Then it’s settled,” I say. “We’ll leave immediately.”
“Taria—” Juron begins.
“It’s fine.” The priestess doesn’t look at him.
Juron must want to remind her of how much strength she used earlier today in order to save the peasant girl. Though I feel a small twinge of guilt from knowing Taria isn’t fully recovered, time can’t be wasted.
“We will leave shortly,” Taria continues. “We will need a few moments to gather our belongings and replenish our supplies.”
“As will we,” I reply.
“Take what you need from the temple. We are setting out to exact the Mother’s will. Our quest is a sacred one, and the temple will offer us all the resources we need.”
I dip my head, while Natharius scoffs. He thankfully spouts no more blasphemy. Yet his expression doesn’t go unnoticed by Caya, whose hand hasn’t left the hilt of her sword.
“Nonetheless, I’m grateful for any aid the temple can offer,” I reply, rising from my seat. Zephyr hops off my shoulder and flutters behind me as I start toward the door. Natharius trails after us a little more enthusiastically than usual. He must be eager to escape the priestess and her blinding aura of golden light.
Halfway to the door, I pause. “There was another matter as well,” I say to the priestess.
