I remember the beginning. I remember kneeling. I remember pain. I was…remade.

ARC 5 - PARACLETE

CHAPTER 8 - OPEN EYES

Lukewarm water had never brought such relief. Raegn dunked his head below the surface and let the world fade away. The silence was serene. It took away all distraction. No sweat-slicked hair stuck to his forehead, no itch of salt-dried skin, no seething words of hatred that everyone in the city seemed to carry. Being given the space for his own thoughts, however, brought little enjoyment.

Raegn’s face tightened as he remembered the slain rebel. Had the man only been guilty of fighting for those with affinity who refused to reveal themselves? Was standing against an oppressive ruler worthy of the hate he’d been shown? A part of him believed the Justicar should find offense in the spectacle of an execution the Emperor used to sow seeds of influence into his people. A rash reveal and declaration of persecution was the stuff of child’s tales, though. The Order had permitted Shaktika its practices for years now. The true goal lay in Victoria’s marriage and bringing the Shaktikan army to fight the Void when the Realm called. Squashing the rebellion so all effort could be put into a singular focus would be the most efficient way. If a people had to suffer for a few more years, was that not better than risking extinction?

Raegn forced the speculation away as he broke the surface and gasped for air. Those sort of things weren’t for him to decide. It was Highlord Orgeron’s responsibility to bring the Realm to heel when the time came. He was merely an arm of the Order, operating within set limits. So long as the Highlord permitted him to fight when the darkness showed itself, he would be satisfied. Dealing with politics and policing the common man were not what drove him to succeed in a two-season trial.

He dried and dressed quickly before any sweat could reappear and soil a new set of underclothes. Edolie had been kind enough to handle their laundry, more a deed than Raegn had initially thought given he changed two or three times a day. His things gathered, he made his way out of the servant’s baths and towards Victoria’s room several stories above.

Upon entering the hallway, Nora was nowhere to be found.

His grip on his dirty clothes tightened. He could duck into their shared room and collect a spear or sword. It was connected to Victoria’s through a side entry. If someone were inside the princess’s quarters, perhaps they wouldn’t be watching that secondary door as closely. There weren’t any signs of a struggle, though. And Nora would not have gone down easily.

Raegn crept forward, masking his footfalls against the stone floor. He approached Victoria’s door and laid a cautious ear against the thick wood. Sobs made their wet and weary way to him, followed by quiet words from two separate voices. He breathed a sigh of relief and let the tension pull from his shoulders. The delicate dove was having a tough time of things again. It was to be expected, he supposed, after the scenes she’d been made to watch in the arena.

He entered, doing his best to close the door behind him without the latch clunking loudly. Victoria sat on the edge of her bed, periodically wiping her eyes with already damp fingers. Edolie sat beside her, gently caressing her back, and Nora crouched in front with hands held tightly and eyes pressing confidence up towards the timid princess. Nora glanced his way, then nodded for him to come over.

“We need to find a way to keep the First Prince out of this room,” she said with bitter conviction.

“Oh?” Raegn asked. “Isn’t the point of this trip for them to be together?”

That brought a particularly heavy group of sobs and a wet cough from the princess and an uncharacteristically fiery glare from Mistress Edolie. Nora rose from her seated squat and flicked Raegn’s ear to get him to break the staring match he was in with the handmaid.

“It seems the First Prince either needs supervision or time to mature before he can be left alone with the Princess,” Nora informed him. “It was my fault for letting him enter in the first place. We’re fortunate Mistress Edolie was more aware than I.”

“Think nothing of it,” the handmaid said with a weak smile.

Raegn couldn’t help but furrow his brow. The servant had seen something Nora hadn’t? Hard to believe. Even harder to think she’d stood up to Tirin when Victoria held the ability to silence her with hardly an effort.

“He’ll kill you the next time you defy him like that,” Victoria choked swallowing a mouthful of tears. “You heard him.”

“Now, now,” Edolie cooed and pulled on the princess’s shoulder so her head fell onto a plump shoulder. “Posturing is all it was. Might have hurt his pride a bit, but he left without much fuss.”

Nora gave Raegn’s sleeve a tug and pulled him aside, letting Victoria dry her eyes on her handmaid’s dresses.

“I’m going to go bathe and get some sleep. Same schedule as always - I’ll replace you at midnight.” She looked at him sternly to keep his attention. “If the First Prince comes back, do not let him in. I don’t care what you have to do.”

Raegn recoiled. “You want me to kill him?”

“Obviously not,” Nora grumbled and shook her head tiredly. “I guess…just don’t let him be alone with the princess. We were told to protect her. I think we ought to save her from his advances for now.”

“If he’s as you say, then I agree,” Raegn assured her. “He’s not that big. If I fall asleep against the door he probably won’t be able to move me.”

Nora rolled her eyes, but did give the smallest of smirks. “Thank you,” she mouthed, then disappeared through the door.

He moved to follow her, stopping short at a command from behind him.

“No.” The voice said, defiantly. “Stay.”

A glance over his shoulder revealed Victoria sitting straight, her eyes pink and swollen but no longer crying. Edolie had distanced herself on the side of the bed some.

“Stay in the room?” Raegn clarified.

Victoria nodded.

“Easy enough,” he said. “I do need to get my sword belt, though,” he added with a nod towards the side door.

He saw the uncertainty in the princess’s eyes. She was terrified to be alone. Edolie wasn’t enough anymore, apparently.

“I’ll only be a moment,” he assured her. “I can leave the door between the rooms open.”

Victoria nodded again, though much more timidly than before. Raegn did as he said, leaving the connection between their two rooms open as he put on the primary pieces of armor that had been part of the Crownguard disguise and fastening the belt with an intricate sword, knife, and several small pouches hung from its thick leather band. When he returned Edolie took her leave, exiting through a door opposite the one to his and Nora’s room and into her own, separate quarters.

The sun had set some time ago and the drapes blew lightly into the room from an unseen and unfelt breeze. The openings for windows offered a meager amount of light, mostly from the moon, but some from the lanterns placed about the palace grounds below. Victoria crawled into bed and pulled the blanket up to her neck despite the general warmth of the air. Raegn paced the room quietly for a time until she settled, then walked about the perimeter blowing out candles with mounds of wax that had filled the plates of their sconces.

The princess’s request was a bit…uncharacteristic. They’d always stood outside her door, watching the hall and affording her the privacy a royal would otherwise demand. She’d broken that expectation quite suddenly and Raegn found himself feeling without purpose. Was he supposed to face her or the door? It felt odd to simply stand in the center of the room. His head tilted back in a silent groan as he damned the whole situation. He was overthinking it.

With forcibly confident strides, he made his way to a chair along the wall, pushed his scabbard aside, and took a seat. Almost on queue, Victoria took his acquired comfort as openness to talk.

“You were right,” she muttered. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

You don’t say, Raegn thought immediately. By some miraculous sense of social grace, the words didn’t leave his lips. They would have normally. Nora was rubbing off on him, perhaps. If he’d been on this assignment with Kai he’d probably have said something worse.

“I don’t recall ever saying such a thing,” he pondered. He honestly couldn’t, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t at some point.

“You implied it,” Victoria said. “That first day in the carriage. You questioned the whole planned marriage and were surprised when I said I would inherit the throne from my father. You didn’t think I would be a good fit.”

Raegn bit his lip. Shit. He’d never hear the end of it if Nora found out about this conversation. She’d remind him how it wasn’t their place to weigh in on royal affairs and that they were only there to protect, then scold him for his brazen words. She had almost told him to kill the First Prince not an hour ago, though… If the devoted Nora Caloman were willing to bend the rules, then what did it matter if he told the Princess the truth of the world?

“You’re not,” he said flatly.

Victoria hung her head in absolute defeat. There was something about it, the way her hair fell over her face and the sigh that moved her shoulders, that brought a feeling of understanding. She was being made to face reality. Her wants and desires had been so innocent, only for her to find things were not as she dreamed. He might have felt the same, once, had he not chosen to ignore reality entirely. Rather than accept his fate as the heir to Bastion and at least try, he’d avoided the duty and fought on the battlefields until fate removed the option entirely.

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be, though,” he added. “If you took the throne today you might fail, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be able to do better tomorrow.”

She sniffed, then sat upright in her bed. “Do you mean that? You think I could be good enough?”

Why ask me? Raegn rubbed his brow. He wasn’t exactly the expert, here. These were conversations to have with her father. The man had kept stability across Elysia for three decades. By comparison, Raegn had laughably little experience to call on.

“The only thing you can do is try,” he told her.

“Don’t give me vague encouragement,” she retorted and folded her arms across her chest in a pout. “That’s Edolie’s job. Besides, in the carriage you asked if I wanted to drop the illusion and have conversation. Is this not what you wanted?”

Raegn blinked absently at her, then laughed. Her cheeks reddened in confusion and the amount of meager confidence she built up came crumbling down. Her sudden doubt only made him laugh harder. She was like Tera, so defiant about everything, always wanting to have it her way. Very good at using people’s words against them, too. Yet when the wall came down she was just as uncertain and human as everyone else. It was endearing and relieving all in the same stroke of revelation.

“What?” she asked after his amusement faded.

“When you act like yourself instead of who you think you should be, you remind me of someone,” he answered, wiping an amused tear from the corner of his eye. “But yes, I suppose this is what I wanted.”

Victoria brought her knees up to her chest, folding herself until she could bury her face in them, probably to hide her embarrassment at how red they’d gotten. The poor girl wasn’t used to being complimented, Raegn guessed.

“Then tell me what you think I should do,” she mumbled from behind her makeshift defense.

Raegn pondered it. It was her timidness, most likely, that was her weakest trait when it came to rule. Such a personality might make some men very happy when it came to choosing a wife, but when it related to rule, mildness was a liability. She also didn’t have the grit for the more unsavory parts of responsibility. Elysium was the jewel of the Realm. Justice must be kept, the people provided for, and stability assured. Fulfilling those requirements demanded difficult decisions be made.

“Would you kill me?” he asked her.

“What?” Her head popped out from her arms like a startled turtle and Raegn tried to not snicker. “Of course not!” she blurted out.

“Then you don’t have the stomach for ruling,” he said.

“Well I don’t see how that’s—”

“What do you think a commander feels when he orders his men into battle?” he asked. “Or a general when he leaves a portion of his army behind to delay the enemy, knowing they’ll die? A king who dedicates a portion of his entire kingdom to an endless war? There were two entire cities dedicated to laying down their lives to keep the Realm free of the Void. One fulfilled that call. Could you make that decision? Could you sacrifice an entire people for the greater good?”

“You’re still upset mad about what I said that first day in the carriage,” she said dejectedly.

“What? No. I’m trying—”

“It wasn’t fair of me to say,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Raegn sighed. She was missing the point. Yes, he’d been offended by that comment, but it was so long ago he’d nearly forgotten it. How was she so good at pulling those forgotten feelings out of him?

“I may not be worthy to rule, but I believe I am worthy to lead,” he admitted. “Tell me this, do you think you’re better than those you would rule?”

Victoria opened her mouth to say she wasn’t, but hesitated. She’d learned that whatever her initial feelings might be, they were liable to be wrong. Still, she wasn’t so insecure as to immediately choose the opposite. That was a small point in her favor. He waited a bit longer to see if she might give an answer, but none came. She either couldn’t decide on what was right or was simply waiting on him to provide the explanation. Regardless, he felt compelled to educate her.

“I wanted to lead a Sentinel vanguard because I believed myself the best of them,” he said. “I led a whole company of Bastion’s finest warriors with the same belief. To lead, you must believe yourself better. If you’re not, why would anyone follow?”

Victoria stared at him with something between unabated wonder and hard scrutiny. The gaze lasted only seconds, but brought him to believe that for once he may have gotten through to her. Light, Ulrich might have even been proud of those words. Raegn head hung from a sudden weight. Gods, how long had it been since he’d thought of the Old Bear? A firm grip on his shoulder from a massive paw of a hand would have done wonders several times in the past few seasons.

“So if I ordered you to kill Tirin to protect me, and you knew you’d be executed for it, would you?” Victoria asked, breaking him from somber reflection.

“I don’t know,” Raegn admitted.

“You asked Nora if she wanted you to,” she said, glumly.

He gave an uncomfortable chuckle and gave the back of his neck a stiff rub. “True.”

That brought the conversation to an entirely awkward end and Raegn sat back in the chair, pressing his back against its wooden structure to stretch some. Victoria had shifted further back so she rested against the headboard, but her shoulders had fallen forward and she’d become focused on her hands resting in her lap.

Even amidst the deep blue night that filled the room, he saw her eyes dart up towards him.

“Does it not scare you? To fight knowing you could die?” she asked.

Raegn frowned. That was a very marked change in the topic and not one he was sure they should be exploring this late with a princess who needed her sleep. Talking did have the benefit of passing the time more quickly, though. What harm would there be if the little dove was a bit tired come morning?

“I go into every fight thinking myself stronger than my opponent,” he told her idly.

“That’s ridiculous,” she shot back. “The Oracles say the Void is endless. You can’t be stronger than that.”

“No,” he admitted, “but I believe it anyway. I’ll only be wrong just the once. Then it will be over.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not afraid of death.”

Raegn leaned forward in his chair, his chest tightening as the idea of it gripped him. Why had his blood gone cold so quickly? Despite all his pride and desire to become legend, knowing full well what the final requirement would be, he’d cried like a babe separate from its mother when death’s bleak fingers had reached for him. Alone in that cave, calling for help, feeling as though he’d brought the enemy to Bastion’s doorstep with his foolish plans to earn hollow honor.

“I’m afraid of failure,” he conceded, then forced his hands into fists to force out the dread that had taken him. “Dreams of Bastion’s fall haunt me, but I try to see them as lessons. I harness that fear - use it, like wood to a fire.”

“Is that why you wanted to close that portal so badly?”

He sighed, but nodded.

“I want to lead my people,” she admitted softly. “I want to be ready when the time comes.”

“Then you’re already more prepared than I was.”

Raegn frowned at his own admission, but the princess kept her eyes on him. It might as well be his turn to confess - to unburden himself of his feelings. There might be no one else in the Realm in such a similar situation as Victoria. Did she not deserve to know she wasn’t alone? That she wasn’t the first to feel apprehensive about their destined path? The way she kept her eyes on him, as though she could draw the words out of him with their timid longing, certainly made it seem so.

He took a deep breath to collect himself. “I never wanted to rule Bastion,” he began. “The council meetings and matters of coin and managing relationships - it was all horribly boring to me. All I wanted was to fight. Even if the city had survived that battle, once my father was gone I probably would’ve let Bastion fall to ruin anyway. Your heart is in the right place, at the very least. That already makes you better than most who seek a throne.”

He looked up at her, a face as soft as the pillow upon which it rested. She would be tested, someday. No one who ruled lived easy. An uncertain future for the Realm only meant that day might sooner than even she realized.

“You need to sleep.”

“You’ll stay?” she asked.

“You’ve ordered me to,” he reminded her. “Nora or I will be here when you wake.”

Victoria shifted some to reposition the pillow with an arm underneath. Moonlight poured through the open window next to the bed, illuminating the wall along which Raegn sat. He draped his cloak over his shoulder so the light wouldn’t reflect off his armor.

“You would’ve been a fine Lord of Bastion,” he heard her whisper.

A brief smile graced his face - a spark of confidence that could only be given by someone who understood. For how feeble she was, Victoria had certainly gotten a lot out of him. Those were things he’d kept even from Kai during the islander’s gleeful interrogations about life in the Far East. Maybe it was her timid nature that brought down everyone’s guard. A bit of a boon, then, rather than a complete liability.

Maybe, he let himself think. Maybe he could’ve been as diligent as his father; hung up spear and shield, married Raelle, and found pride in the management of a city. But that time had passed. Now he had to focus on…

Raegn’s face went blank. What was it he had to focus on? The Order? No, the Order was only a vessel, something that offered him the needed path to return to fighting the Void. Everything else was merely a bump in that road, this folly of a mission included. Despite all her noble intention, Victoria was ill-suited to wed the First Prince, even she had to realize that by now. A few more days and she might cut their trip short and return Elysia in search of other responsibility. Once they were back, he could join the Justicar dispatched across the Realm to close whatever portals popped up. He would track down the Angel, too, and get the answers to the questions she’d sparked and left to smolder. She’d told him to return, after all.

Returning to Elysium even meant getting to see Kai. He and Nalani were bound to wed soon. Raegn figured he’d be called on to serve some function at their joining, so long as he was present. It was bound to be a most joyous and memorable affair. Certainly one he didn’t want to miss.

And Tera. If she were to take the trial and become a Crusader they might spend more time together. Even rekindle what they’d lost along the way.

Everything he wanted wasn’t here.

Raegn hunched over and let his chin rest atop his fists, continuing to think long into the night. He ran through a list of jests first, mulling over each to determining its acceptability on the day of someone’s wedding. Then he came to realize finding the angel might prove to be challenging, as their interactions only ever seemed to occur on her terms. Light, if he thought about it enough, that wasn’t even the most difficult task he faced back in Elysium. How in the seven heavens was he going to convince Tera to just take the trial, her Justicar goals be-damned?

There were three ways to use magic. The first, and arguably easiest, was to manipulate what already existed in the world, the second was to create from nothing using the Light within the soul, and the third was something between the two. All required knowledge of the basic laws that the Divine had used when creating the world.

In a single day, Tera had memorized the fundamental bases for what Harut called spells. Simple concepts like size, shape, and direction, each with modifiers that could alter the way the spell was cast. She nearly filled an entire book, drawing the symbols and Divine words that would serve as the framework until her fingers were sore and her wrist stiff from holding the quill. The rest, as Harut had told her, would be interpreted by the soul as a matter of will. Her own body now contained all of the component pieces as well, and she’d spent the entire night studying her own skin to learn their placement.

It was the sigil of soul that took up most of her back, breaking down into the basic elements of the world as it traveled across her body. Things like earth were framed in her thighs, symbolizing the stability of the ground. Air wrapped around her ribs and under her breasts, ending in front of her lungs. The further from her torso, the more the framework of the spell began to apply, the final requirements for controlling magic snaking down her arms and ending atop the back of her hands.

On the second day, and only after passing what amounted to a rudimentary verbal test, Harut permitted her to try a more practical application of the knowledge.

“Are you ready?” the Angel asked.

Tera nodded, wriggling her toes into the sparse grass and soil. A pond lay before her, trees around her, and the soft ground beneath. The Highlord’s manor was somewhere behind her, a direction chosen by Harut in case there were any unexpected…happenings.

“Breath,” the Angel instructed.

Tera took a deep breath, filling her lungs with warm air.

“Visualize the wind. Hear how it rustles the leaves. Feel how it weaves all around you.” Harut paused, giving her time to settle her mind. “Now, call the Light. Press it into the pathway of air on your ribs, then through your arms to give it shape.”

Tera felt the sigil on her back come to life as she reached out for the Light with her soul. It took the route Harut had told her, all the way until it disappeared at her fingers. She grimaced from behind closed eyes and kept pulling at the Light, feeding more power into the pathway. It didn’t feel like…anything. The branches swayed some, she could hear them, but that was liable to be the natural breeze. She let go of the Light. Defeated.

“What shape did you choose?” Harut asked.

“Sphere,” Tera answered, glumly. All that effort, days of torturous pain endured, for nothing.

Harut laughed and Tera’s heart began to twist in humiliation. “And what did you expect to do with an orb of air? Again. Choose cone, but swirl it tightly, like a cyclone.”

Tera blinked at her. Had she done it, then? She turned back towards the pond and raised her arm again.

“Leave your eyes open this time, Child. It will be easy now that you know the feeling inside.”

Tera swallowed, then took the same breath she had previously. The leaves still rustled. The air was still warm around her. She called the Light. A slight alteration to the pathway down her arms, but otherwise it all felt the same in the second it took to traverse her body. The very same until the moment it left her.

A blast of twisting wind erupted from her fingertips, ripping several of the branches off a tree at the far end of the pond and sending waves across the water that splashed up onto its shores. She released the Light after only a moment, more in unconscious surprise at what she’d done than any real decision to. Her eyes wide with wonder, she looked behind her for Harut, but found the Angel had come to stand next to her. Or so she thought, at least, until she saw the lines in the dirt her heels had left. She’d pushed herself…backwards?

“Easy in some ways, difficult in others,” Harut noted with a smile befitting her usual grace. “Again. Find the ground at your feet. Anchor yourself.”

Tera went through the same steps, though her breath was shaky with excitement and her hand trembled. She pressed an additional route for the Light into her feet before delivering the same gust of wind. This time she held her ground. When she turned to the Angel again, tears streamed down her face. Harut continued to smile and held out her arms. Tera let herself fall into the embrace, futilely trying to wipe clean her cheeks so she wouldn’t wet the Angel’s robes.

“I’ve tried for so long,” Tera sobbed into Harut’s shoulder.

A gentle hand came up to her head, delivering a few soothing strokes and placing a lock of hair behind the ear. It had been a lifetime of disappointment. A relentless ebb and flow of confidence and self-doubt, convincing herself she was still worthy only to dash her own hopes and expectations with each failed attempt to manifest the Light.

All her woe vanished as quickly as the wind had come at her beck and call.

“Enjoy this moment. Revel in it,” Harut encouraged. “It has been some time since I’ve seen knowledge bring such satisfaction, but there are many moments yet to come and some will not be so simple or beautiful.” The Angel stopped stroking her hair, choosing instead to simply allow the embrace to continue. “When you’re ready, we’ll move on. You’ve succeeded at creation, now we must try destruction.”

Tera stayed against the woman, lingering in the support she provided, but blinked the last of the tears from her eyes.

“Destruction?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes,” Harut confirmed. “You can’t form your barriers anymore. Destruction will serve as your defense, deconstructing another's attack before it can harm you.”

When she pulled away, she must have held some reservation in her eyes, for the Angel flashed a wicked grin to motivate her.

“It mostly means I get to throw various objects at you,” Harut said with a wink. “Turning them to dust before being hit is the recommended course of action.”