With a deep breath, I prepare myself to do the one thing that I’ve never done before: argue with my father. “I have earned a place in the Order, Father. I took those on my own. I made the plan, I executed it, I faced down The Prince of Bones, and I escaped alive with one of the most powerful weapons in Nyth. How many other Priests could do that? This proves without a doubt that I deserve a place within the Order.”
He’s quiet for a few moments as he stirs the liquid. “Fiona, please recite the edicts the Order was founded on.”
I knew this was coming. “The first edict is ‘The Order is the wall against the storm. Every Priest pledges his loyalty to the Order above anything else, including his family, his fortune, and his own life.’ The second is ‘A woman’s love destroyed this world, and we shall not allow a woman’s love to ruin what is left. Only men may become part of the Order.’ The third is ‘Humanity is the most valuable thing in Nyth. The Order of the Priests shall do anything required to protect it.’ The fourth is ‘Only humans can protect humanity from magic. Only humans may become part of the Order.’ The fifth is ‘Only members of the Order will be allowed to know its secrets. Betraying the Order is betraying all of humanity.’”
“Don’t you see why you cannot be inducted into the Order of the Priests, Fiona? We’ve had this conversation too many times to count. You’ve been given the training. You have access to Infusions and have been given the Marks you’ve earned. I’ve done everything I can, even breaking my own rules by giving you thesethings, but I cannot allow a woman into the Order, to be given the opportunity to make decisions that could end humanity.”
I snarl at him. “Father, I am not Maeve Arden. I was willing to die to keep our secrets out of Azric’s hands. When I jumped out of that window, I didn’t think I would survive the fall. It’s only because his shadows were out when he tried to catch me that I had a way out.”
My father turns off the burner under the Infusion and throws the metal spoon onto the wooden table before turning toward me, anger blazing in his eyes. “It wasn’t to save herself that Maeve Arden destroyed the world. It was to save the man she loved. I know you aren’t afraid of death, but you’re young.”
The anger in his expression fades some. “You will know love eventually, and what will happen if the choice between the one you love and the Order is placed before you? What will you do then?”
“My loyalty is to the Order. Always.” I put my hand on his.
He sighs, all signs of anger washing away. “Then follow its edicts, Fiona. I will not keep you from anything other than the power to ruin it. I will give you the Marks you earn. I will give you access to Infusions and training and protection. I will let you fight beside us or travel the lands as one of us.”
It’s not what I want, and he knows it. “I was going to ask you to appoint me to a position on the border. I wanted to protect Sylvantia like all the other Priests who have earned their second and third Marks. How can I do that if I’m not allowed into the Order?The Marks and Infusions are powerful, but what about experience, Father? Where am I to find that? Who’s to give that to me?”
His eyes go over my body, taking me in as if he were looking at a new Priest who’d just earned his Phoenix. I know he’s judging me as he does so often. He sees the hard muscles covering my body, my short, cropped hair meant for battle rather than appearance. My body has been built to become a Priest rather than alady, a warrior rather than a damsel, but that doesn’t matter to him. No matter what I do, I will forever be the gender that ruined the world.
A part of him wants to give me what I ask for. He knows what I could do if I were a part of the Order. I know it too, deep in my soul. One day, I would stand beside him as an equal. I, too, would bear the Mark of the Serpent, and we’d be the wall against the stormtogether.
The other part, the side that’s made all the hard decisions over the years, denies me. He shakes his head. “I’d never have allowed you to go to the border, even if you convinced me to induct you into the Order. You matter too much to be put into a position half the Priests don’t survive. You’re far too valuable to be fodder for demons.”
I take a step back. “Because I’m your daughter?” My fist clenches in response to the thought. He’s been harder on me than anyone else. Bram Mercer may have trained me to fight since I was old enough to hold a dagger, but it was my father who taught me the harder lessons. What it was like to feel your bones shatter. What it was like to starve, to go without air until your body would doanything for it, to be put into perfect darkness for days until my mind wasn’t sure what was real and what was an illusion.
“You are the most valuable person in the world to me, Fiona. I would do a great many things to keep you safe, and it’s not only because you’re my daughter.”
“You just…” The door slams open, and I whirl around, my hands going to my daggers. My father, on the other hand, simply arches an eyebrow.
At the door stands Countess Ainslee Emlyn, the Champion of Adelyth, the Goddess of Hope. She and her people, the Fae and humans in Selithar, have spent the last eighty years fighting to save innocents. She may help humans rather than harm them, but she’s still Godforged, still Fae. Still not human.
My hackles still rise, and my hands still grip my daggers, though I don’t pull them from their sheaths. “We need to talk, Rhaskar,” she says. “And we need to do it immediately.”
She glows with a soft golden light, a sign of the goddess whose power flows through her. Her chestnut-brown hair hangs freely down to her shoulders, and her green eyes seem to laugh and dance even though she’s not smiling. The golden fighting leathers she wears are immaculate, as if they’ve never seen a touch of blood or a single weapon strike. A silver stone with a red streak hangs from a chain around her neck, her only adornment other than the twin daggers at her hips.
Behind Ainslee is Darian Emlyn, her twin brother. He doesn’t glow as she does, but there’s a distinct resemblance between them. He’s slightly taller than Ainslee and towers over my father. Hisshort, dark brown hair is a little wild, as though it hasn’t seen a brush in a few days, and somehow, his golden leathers seem rumpled, like he’d left them in a pile for a few days after a hard workout. How anyone’s fighting leathers could look wrinkled is beyond me. But he’s smiling, and something makes me think of how the hill felt when I first walked out of Averna and heard the children playing. Full of laughter and life.
“Of course, Countess Ainslee,” my father says and moves to her. I follow him. “Are King Rhion and his dragon doing well?”
“They’re safer than most in this gods-damned war, but we have important matters to discuss, so let’s skip the pleasantries,” she says as she perches in a chair in my father’s sitting room. She’s positioned like a warrior, legs spread wide and elbows on her knees as she leans forward. It’s a position she can act in an instant from.
“Of course,” my father says, just as emotionless as ever.
Ainslee Emlyn and her armies are one of Sylvantia’s only allies. The goddess Adelyth refused to take part in the war that ravages Nyth, instead commanding her champion to protect the innocents. While the Goddess of Death draws power from those that are killed, Adelyth draws power from the ones that are saved.
She may be Fae and Godforged, but our forces have worked together to save humans for many years. Without Ainslee’s help, Sylvantia would have had a much more difficult time. While no Priest would ever truly trust one of the Godforged, we’ve learned how powerful an ally she and her forces can be. Our purposes are similar, and as long as that holds true, we’re willing to work with them when the need calls.
“Nyxthos’s champion, Echo Vael, fell in battle with Azric a month ago. Nyxthos is holding a set of trials to decide the next Champion of Darkness and Secrets in a fortnight. He’s opening it up to anyone, humans included, and I need one of your Priests to win it.”
For the first time in probably years, my father laughs. Ainslee doesn’t seem amused, and she says rather tersely, “I don’t see why that would be anything to laugh about.”
My father composes himself, though he doesn’t quite wipe the smile off his lips. “Countess Ainslee, you know as well as I do that the Order of the Priests does not involve itself in the gods’ war. Why would I send one of my best Priests to compete and most likely die to become a part of the thing we’re doing our best to protect ourselves against? And for Nyxthos, at that. The God of Secrets and Darkness. Why would I let someone who knows almost all the secrets that I’ve kept hidden for nearly eighty years offer himself and all of his knowledge to a god?”
“Because it will save lives. Human lives as well as Immortals. Nyxthos’s Mages could keep a tighter rein on their creatures, but Echo didn’t seem to think that was necessary. Look at how Kaelith or Caeldra’s champions have kept their forces from attacking random settlements. If battles happen near a village or city, yes, innocents would still die, but they don’t hunt those innocents. They don’t allow their creatures to run the border villages freely.”
My father shakes his head solemnly, the laughter all but gone from him now. “I cannot risk any of the Priests, nor can I risk our secrets. The answer is no.”
