What an odd thing to ask.
I watch as Keane gives the Ancient a small nod, his own eyes alight as he keeps them trained on Hirovale, watching his tall form step around the side of the cushions. Stormfall pushes off the Ancient’s shoulder and glides to one of the great pines in Keane’s room, resting casually on a limb above. I avert my gaze when I feel Hiro taking a seat right next me, his body close to mine and not at all sitting on the other end of the settee.
What are you doing?I glare back at Hirovale, shifting farther into my corner,scoot down.
Hirovale turns to me, his wavy black hair falling against his shoulders as he replies with a grin. “No.”
I huff and roll my eyes again, placing my elbow on the edge as I let my head fall into my hand, shaking it at his ego.
“Rivian,” Hirovale says softly to my left, settling back into the cushions in a casual embrace. I let my mind flick to what I know of the Ancient of Strife and Struggle…
Rivian promotes the belief that people are always at their strongest when they are tested and tried. Followers of the Ancient believe that they reach their fullest potential when they embrace the conflict in their lives and deal with it head on, coming out victorious.
Tales of when the Ancients were awake and roamed the Old World told stories of Rivian putting the beings of our world through trials. They were designed to make people struggle and forced them to confront their fears openly. The belief was that the person would learn from those trials and grow into who they were always meant to be. But those same tales told of the many trials that were being forced onto the people without their consent... They became too drastic, too hard and cutthroat, with the person either excelling and coming out of their conflict victorious, or dying in the attempt. There was no in-between.
Naturally, Rivian was at odds with the Ancient Nolan, who promoted the belief that life on this Old World should be unburdened and easy.
“My sister has always been powerful,” Hirovale notes, speaking to both Keane and I as he lays his left arm across the settee comfortably, away from me.
Thank Ancients.
Hirovale grins but continues, “her intentions and the power she used to wield those intentions were good in the beginning. She tested people, called forth their potential from within and aided them into becoming better beings…”
“But somewhere down the road her trials became relentless andvicious. She was never satisfied with the beings of the Old World and always searched for someone who could rise up to her challenges, to prove that there was someone just as powerful as her. She became evil, toying with people for fun, even more so when humans were created. She scoffed at their non-magical abilities and took advantage of them, discarding them so callously as the second-class beings she believed them to be.”
“Shewas the one of the primary reasons we all decided to sleep,” Hirovale says with a small frown, “that and the Great Rift caused by my Father and Mother after their slaughter of two of our kind. We needed a break. We needed a rest and reset. And we needed time alone that would allow the Old World to continue on with its creation of humans, time that was without our interference.”
“No one needed that rest more than Rivian,” Hirovale states quietly, “she was the first of us to go down, with five of us providing our own magicto ensure her unbothered sleep. But somehow, some way, Livyatan found her resting place over two hundred years ago and began performing their ritual summoning of human lives to wake her.”
I shudder again and take a deep sip from my whiskey, peering over at the Ancient.
“Whythough? You both allude that she can aid their side of whatever battle is coming. But what exactly can she do for them?”
A thought occurs to me the moment the question leaves my lips…
What is Hirovale doing for me?
If he stands on the other side of this impending battle, choosing me as his champion, what is he doing to help me? He’s sent his right hand as protection, but other than that, he’s basically just been popping into our lives without lending any steady help.
The Ancient turns sharply in my direction with a glare. His eyes narrow hard on mine, not caring for my thoughts.
I sigh and think it over…
You want me to embrace your magic even though it goes against every fiber of my being.
Hirovale gives a small nod.
You’ve provided me with Storm, a protector and fighter in his own right.
“Yes,” the Ancient replies coolly.
You ask me to hold the title of being your champion, to be your voice.
“Yes, Alex.”
And you are the strongest of your kind. Your weight and abilities will strengthen your cause.
He nods.
