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“We have protected mankind since The Fall and long before, even when it means protecting you from yourselves. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the watchers, none of the humans we care for in Estelles would be.” He gestured as he spoke, motioning to the rest of the Dishonored in the room.
“I’m here because of Azriel,” I corrected him, “and protection does not give you right to control me.”
“Humanity needs to learn their lesson. They need to fix their mistakes, or the gods will never be pleased enough to return.”
“Screw the gods,” I spat. This sent an audible gasp throughout the room, my blasphemy taking their breath away.
“Watch your mouth, Arya,” Grandmaster warned, his words slow off his tongue.
“This has nothing to do with the gods, and you know it. Why do you refuse to save Azriel? After all he’s done for you, after centuries of service?”
“Many have sacrificed their lives for humanity. Azriel has always understood his role, and he would not want us to risk more watchers for his sake. We cannot multiply our protectors, Huntress. Once we lose one, they are gone forever, with no one to replace them. With the gods in their dormancy, we must wait for the opportune time to strike Adzehate, so we risk as few lives—”
“Destroying the queen will always be dangerous. It will always be a risk to enter her territory. You’ve waited a hundred years, Grandmaster. How much longer will you stand by and watch humanity suffer under her rule?” I asked. My hands fell slack at my sides, utterly defeated by the resolution in his gaze.
“As long as it takes. A huntress is born every century, and if we must wait a hundred more years for the time to be right, we shall. Hopefully, the next woman will be more…fitting for the job.” He then turned slightly to exit the conversation and leave the room. But I stopped him with my voice, confident, loud, and unwavering throughout the sanctuary.
“You know what your problem is, Grandmaster?” I paused for effect, not actually expecting him to answer. He turned around slowly to face me, his expression bored and tired. “You and Adzehate believe humans only exist for divine servitude. That we are put on this earth to do your bidding and follow your rules. But this is not your realm, Grandmaster, and you are not my god.”
I dropped the robe from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor, revealing the bare skin hardly concealed by the thin night gown I wore underneath. The meshwork of my scars revealed to all, hundreds of white cuts up and down my arms and legs, hinting at the life I lived under the mountain. Their eyes studied my body, witnessing my story and my pain. I let them see all the horrible parts, the memories I wish I could leave behind a blindfold to never see again. But my story was my testimony, my reason to fight, and my reason to live.
“My people have suffered for a century. We have been cut up, mangled, and mutilated. We have been abused, worked to the bone, punished in the harshest ways imaginable. We have closed our eyes to the night and opened them to the same sky, the same darkness, every day for a hundred years. We designed a world that fully functions in the dark to support our people and keep them thriving, to keep humanity progressing. Because no matter how you see mankind, no matter the stain you believe we are in the masterpiece of the gods’ creation, there is still goodness in the world, and it deserves to be fought for.”
My heart fluttered before I spoke again, unsure if I should continue to the last point which harassed my thoughts. But the grandmaster was still unconvinced, still hesitant to understand the significance behind it all.
“You told me love was never irrelevant. Well, I love him, Grandmaster. I didn’t know at first, because I’d never known what it meant to love someone the way I love him. But I care more about him than I care about myself, than I care about surviving in a world without him. I wouldn’t be making a complete fool out myself right now, I wouldn’t be fighting this hard, if I didn’t love him like I truly do. And if there is any way to save Azriel, I will do it. Even if I have to tear Adzehate apart with my bare hands.”
The grandmaster faced me once more and stepped even closer to my trembling body. I didn’t dare breathe as he stood a heartbeat away, my eyes barely reaching the center of his chest. He then reached down to the floor and plucked my robe from the ground, handing me the heavy wool before finally speaking again. “You will not defeat her with your bare hands, Huntress.”
I grabbed the peace offering and looked up at him like I imagined a child would look to their father—hopeful, pleading, and transparent to the needs of my heart. “Then help me, sir. Help me get him back and save my world.”
He sighed; the breath escaped from pursed lips and blew back the stray hairs of my unbound hair. The resolve in his eyes flickered as his gaze met mine, like a candle against a whisper. His voice dropped low between us, the gentleness catching me alarmingly off-guard. “Come with me, Arya.”
I followed him from the sanctuary, and no one dared a word as we left.
The grandmaster led me deep into the heart of the fortress, and neither of us spoke the entire journey. I sheathed the sword of my tongue, fearful it would rip apart everything I had built to get to this moment. The silence didn’t intimidate me, but the anticipation was unbearable.
His strides were long, but slow, as if he were carefully placing each bare foot across the rugs lining the dimly lit hallways. Every wasted second, every beat of my heart, ticked away at an imaginary stopwatch, and at the end of the countdown was Azriel’s life. Would it kill these ancient creatures to be in a rush every now and then?
But my patience was rewarded when we finally reached our destination. In the heart of the floating castle was the arsenal, and what an arsenal it was.
The windowless room came to life as we entered, Grandmaster’s hand sweeping the expanse of the room to light the low-hanging torches and a firepit in the center of the armory. The flickering blaze of flames reflected off smooth metal throughout the circular space, catching the gleam of golden breast plates and navy emblems crested in their centers. Fake men dressed in full armor lined the curved walls. Behind them hung weapons of every size and design. Swords, both double- and single-handed, hung from stone walls like trophies and glistened twice as bright. Next to the swords were daggers, then bows of different sizes and styles, shields and maces, staffs with brilliant rocks on the tips. The room was filled with the most beautiful and deadly weapons in Valdihr.
My hands were sweating again, a horrible habit I developed the fiercer my tendencies intensified. They itched to grab something off the wall and swing it around like I knew what I was doing. I clasped my palms together, trying to hide the urges lacing my nerves upon entering the armory, but my efforts were futile.
“See something you like, Huntress?”
I nodded, swallowing to coat the dryness in my throat.
“How long have you felt those compulsions?” He asked me, glancing at my hands, wringing the blood back to my fingers.
“I don’t know, since I was chosen, I guess,” I replied quietly. “My temper’s just been getting worse since I left the mountain, more violent. Sometimes I just want to hurt something, and if I don’t, the feeling grows until I can’t breathe.”
The Grandmaster nodded and eased himself onto a bench near the fireplace. “That’s the blessing activating inside you. It seems uncontrollable right now, but it will become more comfortable the more it matures in your spirit.” A small smile touched his thin lips. “Ideally, if we were in a better age, we would train you and assist you in refining your gift. You would be able to take any weapon from this room and wield it like it were merely an extension of your body. The queen seems to have done a fine job training you in our place, however.”
“Why would she train the woman who was blessed to kill her?” I asked, unclasping my fingers to run their tips across a broadsword hanging low on the wall.
“Adzehate wants to overthrow the gods, but to do so, she needs to kill them. She needs the blessing—yourblessing—and she has trained many in search of the huntress. Your talents proved to her your true identity, and now she wants your soul more than any other.”
