One by one, the girl dropped each item into the flames, almost reverently. After uncorking the bottle and pouring the liquid over the fire, her hands clutched the dagger that was attached to the small belt on her hips. Three items to burn, one to hold. Vi took a breath, readying an illusion withnarro,but as her eyes caught the flame, the genuine sensation of future sight overtook her.
The world blotted out, blurring into white, and Vi found herself standing a mere stone’s throw from the castle her body was in.
Fiera and Tiberus stood together at the center of a crowd, hands joined with a red ribbon wrapped loosely around them. Zira stepped toward them, drawing the crystal weapon she wore on her hip. A Crone of the sun spoke, though Vi couldn’t hear the words. Even if she could, her focus remained on the glimmering Sword of Jadar.
Zira lowered the sword with purpose, resting the flat of the blade over top their joined hands. Flames sparked, harmlessly singeing the ribbon to ash. Tiberus beamed and Fiera returned the smile. Zira lifted the sword once more and as she held it aloft—
A blade gouged through the soft flesh of her neck. Blood ran down the ceremonial armor Zira wore in a river that raced to pool at her feet. The phantom sounds of gurgling, of Zira’s knees hitting the ground hard as the blade was withdrawn, filled Vi’s deaf ears.
She watched with disturbing detachment as a man she didn’t recognize grabbed for the weapon. Chaos collapsed in on the couple. The last thing Vi saw was Tiberus pulling Fiera close to him, panic in his eyes.
Vi blinked, suddenly seeing the flame in her open palms again. Straightening, she let go of the spark and looked out the windows along one wall to avert the worry in her eyes.
“What did you see?” Raylynn asked eagerly.
“Give the princess a moment, her eyes haven’t even stopped glowing.” Zira hushed her daughter sternly.
“I saw…” Vi started softly, but lost all train of thought. That certainly hadn’t been how Vi expected this to go. Her future sight wasn’t a trained skill like it was for the purveyors of curiosities. Her future sight only happened at places where fate changed. Would the Cathedral of the Sun become an Apex at Fiera’s wedding?
Her eyes drifted from Zira to Raylynn.
She’d heard stories of Raylynn Westwind, the only female member of Prince Baldair’s illustrious Golden Guard. She’d joined shortly before the young prince’s untimely death. The stories Vi had heard were striking—the sort that stuck with a girl first learning to hold a sword.
“Your life, Raylynn,” Vi finally began with confidence, “will follow your mother’s in service. But where your mother follows a crown of silver, the one you serve will be a crown of gold, like the hair of your head.”
And the hair of Prince Baldair’s head. Perhaps Raylynn could prevent Baldair from meeting his young death if she were destined to be his guard. If she grew up to become even half the swordswoman her mother was, it could be enough to change his fate. Memories of her father talking with such longing about his brother, a broken relationship he could never repair, flooded and propelled her.
“You will live by the sword, and through it you will fulfill many duties. These duties will be heavy, but you will carry yourself gracefully till your final hours. And through it all, you will find your home.” Finishing with something ambiguous seemed far wiser than getting too specific. As much as Vi wanted to meddle with the outcomes of history to spare her family, Taavin’s cautions stuck.
“You honor us with your sight of the Mother’s plans.” Sophie dipped once more into a low bow. Zira stared in slack-jawed awe.
“Do you hear that, mommy?” Raylynn stole her mother’s attention. “I will carry a heavy sword, just like you!”
“That you will, my little dagger. But the sword I’m carrying today isn’t heavy. In fact, it’s very special. I only have it now for the princess’s wedding. Would you like to see it?” Raylynn nodded and Vi was forced to watch as the crystal sword was unsheathed once more, casually exposed to even more eyes. “This sword is—”
“The Sword of Jadar,” Sophie gasped.
“Is it so special?” Raylynn asked, running her little fingers along the flat of the blade. The girl was calm and at ease, even in the presence of a legendary weapon.
“Very special. Can’t you hear its song?” Zira tilted her head. “Remember, we must—”
“Listen to the blades, and dance and sing with them.” Raylynn finished. She tore her eyes away from the sword. “Did you give my mother this sword?”
“It belongs to my family,” Vi answered doggedly.
“Can you give me a sword when I am in service to the golden crown?”
“Perhaps.”
“I want a sword like mama’s.”
“A sword like this cannot be made. It came from the Mother herself, very long ago.” Zira sheathed the weapon.
“But her visions come from the Mother, and she’s so powerful!” Raylynn looked between them all, as if one of them could explain why this fact wasn’t obvious. “If you can’t make another sword, can you give my dagger power just like it?”
“Stop bothering the princess and mind your manners, Ray,” Sophie said sternly, cutting off the conversation. She stopped the girl from unsheathing the dagger.
“Now, the princess and I have to go get ready for her wedding. It’ll be very soon.” Zira gave Raylynn one final squeeze and stood. “I’ll meet you both tonight for dinner. Thank you again,” Zira murmured as her mother and daughter exited. “Do you think I’m a bad mother for this deceit?”
