Shackles and Shards: Shattered - Chapter 12

This is a draft chapter. Contents may change between now and publication.

This is currently being made available for free as a thank you for helping the PRIDE: Brighter than the Stars Bundle on Itchio meet its goals. A new chapter unlocks with every $500 milestone.

Get the Bundle Now

---

“Oksana says you can now create a barrier around yourself to deflect any attacks, and that you can do basic healing tactics on yourself.”

“Yes, that is correct.” She stands before Volkov in his office. She’d had the strangest dream about him the night before, but she cannot remember it. Despite that, she can’t shake it either. It’s lingering on the edges of her consciousness and no matter how much she tries to orient herself, naming things she can see, hear, smell, and feel, she doesn’t feel like the world around her is real. She can’t help but wonder if she is still dreaming.

But the Volkov in front of her is real, and he is more disgruntled than usual.

“Excellent. We can’t have you dying on us, not yet.”

She wants to ask about the not yet but is afraid to. She nods.

“You have done wonderfully with meeting my allies, too. All of them believe you are the real princess and none of them have complained about your manners or comportment.”

“Glad to hear it.” Her hands clench into fists in the folds of her dress.

“You know, sometimes I look at you and wonder. You can’t be her. You can’t be. But sometimes I still get the feeling that you are. The way you move, or rather, the way you don’t move. The way you sometimes stand perfectly still…”

“We’ve established that I am not, sir.”

He sighs. “Yes, which is a shame. But I shall make due. We will be formally presenting you to the world in two weeks.”

“At the capital? In Krylla?”

“No. Here. We will announce you, you will formally claim the throne and then appoint Petra to be the Duke of Novakov and reinstate all the nobility, from bezem lord to great lord, as well. You will call for the Republic to disband the Forum and for all who are still loyal Tsvetokrasans to pledge loyalty and fealty to you. We shall announce our engagement at another time.”

“In two weeks?” She stops herself from reaching for the collar. Two weeks is not enough time to escape, it’s not enough time to make a plan. She hasn’t seen Kiut Tshu and Petra in weeks as Petra had to go to Krylla on Forum business. Volkov himself had only just returned, saying that Petra had just a few more loose ends to tie up. She’s had no one but Oksana to speak to and Oksana is far from a friend.

She needs to come up with an excuse, something that can convince him it is too soon. She needs more time. “But are you sure you have enough former lords on your side? What about the journalists and reporters? Do you know what they will write?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t do newsworthy things unless you already know what the newspapers will say. I have enough support. Did you hear about the bills that passed out of the Forum just last week?”

She shakes her head. She had never really concerned herself with anything but the dead.

“I proposed a bill to eliminate guaranteed food assistance.”

“But it didn’t pass, it couldn’t. I thought you said you were just proposing those bills to get people used to the idea and legitimize your side of the debate.”

“Yes. But it was remarkably easy to tell my opponents that I would vote for bills they would put forward in return for them voting on my bill.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To get it to pass, of course.”

“No, I mean promise to help your opponents?”

He laughs as if she has told the most amusing joke. “Oh dear, oh my dear. I plan to do no such thing. How will they hold me accountable to a backroom deal?”

“But that’s not fair!”

“The world isn’t fair, sweetheart. It has never been fair. There are people on top, and people on bottom. That’s just how things are meant to be, and if you aren’t on top, you are on the bottom. If I have to cheat and steal my way to the top, I will. And then I will be on top. So I will make the rules. You can either come with me, or you are in my way. And you do not want to be in my way.”

Sresca swallows, the collar feeling tighter than usual around her throat. There had to be more. Dana had said there was. Volkov might be the man behind it, but there had to be more than him wanting to be king. She has to find out. She has to figure out what he is planning. And she only has two weeks to do so.

She cannot be at this event, she cannot allow herself to be presented as the princess. Something inside of her is telling her that if she does so, there is no going back. She can’t let Volkov’s presentation happen.

“Don’t worry. After you give your speech, all you will have to do is smile and wave. You just need to be a pretty face sitting in the chair, I will do everything else. And not just for the presentation, but for our entire reign.”

---

It’s almost time, you are almost ready. You will know when you must come to me, and you will know where you must go. Soon, daughter of my heart, soon we shall meet.

The Evenstar had come to her in her dreams again. She hadn’t seen her since she left the Temple, but she visited again and Sresca can’t help but take it as a sign—but is it a good sign or a bad sign? The eve of one of Dana’s minor holidays, and the strange woman makes an appearance? It cannot be coincidence.

The other, unfortunate, coincidence is that Volkov chose the Day of the Long Voyage as the day to present Sresca to the people.

It is meant to commemorate the voyage that Dana took from the land of the living into the asphodaer, sculpting it and shaping it into something worth looking forward to. She had to cross a great sea, an endless and sunless void to arrive there, a voyage which took many years and during which she was guided only by the moons and stars. But she did it, and now she and her Roses help everyone make that voyage into Death.

One day to commemorate her voyage of a thousand years. Until she had done so, the dead languished, trapped and unable to move on. One day to commemorate all that she has done. It’s not enough , Sresca thinks. It will never be enough to repay all that Dana has done. But this is what Volkov wants. He has not told her the full plan, he wants her to be unaware so her feelings look genuine. But she just wants to find a knife and plunge it into her chest.

She has run out of time and she has learned nothing. She is no closer to knowing the truth at the heart of the conspiracy than she was two weeks ago. She has failed her Goddess; failed a direct order.

“Come, it’s time.” Petra holds out a hand. Sie is dressed as a knight, as a royal champion. “Relax, everything will be fine. I have a plan.”

She struggles to hold in her shock. Does Petra mean a plan to help her escape? A plan to end Volkov? A plan to end whatever large scheme has captured them?

She follows Petra, not sure if she should be nervous or excited. The carriage does not contain Volkov, he is in the one just ahead of them sitting with Oksana and few personal guards.

“You will be performing the ritual for today,” Petra says, sliding into the carriage next to Kiut Tshu.

“But I thought the assignment had been given to Priestess Anya,” Sresca says, glancing back the Mercy. Anya had just risen from Acolyte of Silver to Enshrouded. Sresca had given her the honor of leading the ritual.

“She took ill this morning,” Kiut Tshu says in a tone that makes it obvious that this was planned. “You will have to do it.”

Sresca nods, her fingers worrying at the bottom hem of her Shroud of Shadows. It is a long ritual and it involves using a knife to cut herself. Dana would heal the wound after her offering was accepted, and her forearm would be pristine if she completed the whole thing correctly. She had only one scar from a failed ritual. She was surprised she did not have two. She should have a second one from when she failed the Trial of the Rose, but apparently, she had done the blood offering and sacrifice perfectly. And still failed.

She shivers. It’s the day after the summer solstice. From today forward, each day would get shorter and each night would get longer. While Yessenia, goddess of the sun, celebrates the day after the winter solstice, Dana celebrates the day after the summer solstice.

But summer means nothing in Tsvetokrasa, whose mountains keep her safe, but keep her frozen. The sun might shine brightly, but the snow will never melt. She does not like the idea of having to perform this ritual outside before the gathered crowd, wearing only her robe and a shroud.

They creep along the rode slowly, and in the distance, Sresca sees a dozen other carriages making their way across the frozen landscape. She wonders if they are also heading for the ceremony, if they are government officials shirking their duties to come see her perform the Rite of Dark Beginnings.

She fiddles with her mittens, taking them off and putting them back on again, wondering if she should ask Petra about this plan, if Kiut Tshu is involved, and what exactly it could mean. She opens her mouth and closes it again over and over, never able to get the words out.

“We’re here,” Petra says, opening the door and stepping out.

Petra is supposed to be the most important person in the carriage. Sie is an elected official, a member of the Forum. Sresca is merely a priestess. Why is sie getting out first and offering hir hand to assist Sresca?

Hierarchy. She realizes. She is again thinking in terms of a hierarchy. It can’t be the natural order, she tells herself. I’m just so used to it, it seems natural.

No, it’s not about position or station. It’s just who Petra is: someone who acts gallantly.

She takes a deep breath as her fingers come in contact with Petra’s gloved hands and she wishes she could actually feel Petra’s skin against hers. “You’ll do great,” Petra says with a wink and points to the dais raised at the center of the town square. Sie and Kiut Tshu disappear into the crowd as Volkov approaches her.

“I am sure Petra told you already, but you will be the one performing the ritual. You need to perform it perfectly. No matter what happens, you must finish the ritual.”

She nods. She had not planned on doing anything other than completing it perfectly. But the hard look in Volkov’s eye told her she should not argue.

She ascends the podium and the mayor of the town announces her after giving a short speech thanking his constituents for their continued trust in his ability to lead them and encouraging them to avail themselves of the many services available them.

An altar is already prepared, just waiting for her to remove the cloth over it and reveal it to the assembled crowd. The knife is also waiting.

She glances at Volkov, wondering if he will give her some cue and expect her to launch into the speech he had forced her to memorize. But he is just gazing at her with a mild disinterest.

She begins reciting the Lusanna, long list of prayers to Dana repeated in succession. A fulll recitation could take a day, but she need only recite the first three prayers in it. She pulls up the knife, tip pointed towards the sun while she completes the prayers.

She wonders if she should plunge the knife into her chest, instead. Before Volkov can set his plan in motion; before he can declare himself. If he declares himself here, now, there is no going back. The public will know that monarchists still walk among them, and more might flock to his cause now that it is in the open. He will give the people permission with this act to openly voice their belief in a system of hierarchy.

There is always a top, always a bottom, Oksana had said.

No. No, there does not have to be a hierarchy; there does not have to be a top and bottom. She can end this counter-revolution now. Kill herself, deprive Volkov of his princess. Make him find another accomplice, if he even can.

It is almost time to move on to the next phase of the ritual, almost time for her to slice open her forearm and offer her blood to Dana. This is it. She either ends it now, or…

Petra said sie has a plan…Should I trust hir?

She brings the knife down to her arm and slices into her flesh, the warm blood dripping down her arm into a bowl, but not a single drop lands on her robe or sullies the altar cloth. A perfect sacrifice. The blood vanishes and a gust of wind sweeps across the square.

The sacrifice was accepted.

But the wind blows too hard and her Shroud of Shadows whips around in the wind until her face is no longer concealed behind it.

“It’s her!” A voice from the crowd cries out before she can position the Shroud over her face again.

“That’s the princess!” Another person in the crowd shouts. The crowd is murmuring and Sresca tries to cover her face again, but it’s too late.

“It’s Princess Kyra!” A third voice rings out. This one Sresca recognizes as Oksana’s. The other two must have been Volkov’s accomplices, too.

But now, everyone is shouting and there’s no making out what they are saying.

What is Petra’s plan? Should I try to complete the ritual? That’s what Volkov wanted me to do. I should have killed myself when I had the chance.

She searches the crowd for Petra’s face, wondering where her “knight” went. But the crowd is turning. Instead of just cries of shock, there are shouts of anger now, too.

“Filthy rat! No more royals!”

“Leech!”

“How dare you hide in Dana’s halls?”

The crowd is not happy. Volkov miscalculated. She turns to glance back at him, expecting to see fear or anger. But right now, the crowd is angry at her. They don’t know he is involved yet. But he’s smiling. No, his grinning.

The first ball of fire misses her by a hair’s breadth. The second is flying at her not even a second later.

The crowd is more than angry. The crowd is willing to kill her. Ready to face the consequences for using aclaere.

She stumbles backwards and raises a shield against her attackers. The balls of fire are joined by other kinds of attacks, other types of aclaerical tactics. She is being bombarded, but more importantly, there are people in the crowd brawling, hitting each other, fighting each other.

Good thing I let Oksana teach me how to make a barrier.

The aclaerics are using their powers against others in the crowd. She gets to her feet, determined to stop the violence. She does not care which side is which, she just does not want anyone to die, not on this sacred day. No one must break Dana’s edict against causing Death.

She extends her shield, blocking several attacks aimed at others.

“She’s saving us!” Someone cries.

“Princess Kyra is saving us!”

She does not care what they are screaming, she kneels down next to a badly injured woman and uses healing aclaerics to close a wound.

But the violence continues. There’s no way she can save everyone, and no way she can stop it on her own.

Volkov’s voice rings out above the crowd. It’s too loud, he must be using some form of aclaere to amplify it. “By order of the Forum, I authorize the use of force to put down this riot!”

The carriages Sresca had spotted earlier open up and out pours all of Oksana’s students. An aclaerical army. They unleash a volley of attacks, indiscriminate and untargeted.

Or rather, everyone is a target. They are not trying to end the violence, they are trying to enflame it.

A hand in the crowd reaches out and grabs her. An elderly woman with familiar eyes pulls Sresca away.

“No, I have to help them, there are people who are injured.”

“No, we need to get out of here.” The voice is raspy with age, but Sresca would recognize it anywhere. Yelena. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the Temple! You aren’t allowed to leave.”

“I trusted no one else to rescue you.”

“What?” Yelena continues to pull her, leading her through the streets, cutting through alleys and leaping across boxes as if she hadn’t been using aclaere to mask her identity.

“This is my fault, this is all my fault. I should not have sent you here. If I had known…”

In the distance, Petra is waiting with a carriage. Kiut Tshu materializes out of the shadows and follows behind them.

“We’re going to get you back to the Temple. I will offer sanctuary to Petra. It’s not too late to stop this.”

They are almost to the carriage when Volkov and Oksana appear between them, suddenly looming in front of them. Sresca raises her hands, ready to hurl an attack at him but Yelena pulls her back. “No. Not now. Just run.”

“Get her.” He stands calmly as Oksana lunges forward, fists full of flames.

Sresca dodges, skittering away from her grasp.

Yelena tugs on the shadows. Obscura. She knows it, too. She wraps them around herself, shaping them into long arms. They fly out, striking at Oksana in quick succession.

But in her haste to battle, she drops her disguise and her shroud flutters away on the wind, exposing her dark brown eyes and silver-blond hair.

Volkov steps forward, eyes wide. “It’s you. You’re the real Kyra. I knew it. I knew you survived. I knew you were hiding in that blasted Temple. And you’ve finally come out. You’re finally where I can get you.”

“Still bitter after all these years that I turned you down, bitter that my brother let me. But if you thought I would ever return to that life…”

“Don’t harm her. Catch her. But do not harm her.”

Oksana does not acknowledge him directly, but her flames die out, replaced quickly with swirling water.

Sresca freezes, not believing her ears. Yelena… Yelena can’t be the missing princess. She’s her sister. They were born to moderately successful merchants. Their parents had died while on a trading mission, caught in a storm at sea. They had sought refuge at the Temple of Dana. They had three and five winters respectively. They’ve been at the Temple for nearly thirty winters… She can’t be the princess.

But if she is, what does that make her?

“Sister?” She cries out. “Sister…”

“Run, Nadia! Just run! I will be right behind you. Get Kiut Tshu and Petra and run!”

Oksana leaps at Yelena again but Sresca does as she is told, looking over her shoulder one last time to see her sister launch another shadow-attack at Oksana and Volkov.

---

“We have to get back to the estate,” Petra says, hir voice showing no hint of fatigue even though they have not had even a second to stop. “We need to loop back around.”

“No. We must go to the Temple.” Kiut Tshu does not stop running. “Come on.”

They are being pursued. Oksana herself might still be back in town battling with Yelena, but a battalion from Oksana’s army has broken off from the rest and is now right behind them. Their carriage had been taken out in a burst of flames and the horses scattered across the barren fields of the Tsvetokrasan countryside. Now, they are on foot and outnumbered.

“But…”

“No. You go back, and you’re dead.” Kiut Tshu says without even glancing in Petra’s direction, pulling another dagger from some concealed pocket. “You were the one that alerted the Temple that Sresca was in danger—you are the one who made a deal with the High Priestess. You are now of no use to Volkov. And you know what he does to people he has no use for. If you want to live, you will come with us.”

“I guess I did not think this through entirely,” Petra says.

“You don’t think a lot of things, through.” Kiut Tshu throws a dagger over her shoulder and even without looking, she hits her mark; another aclaeric screaming out before hitting the snow with a crunch.

“The Temple is over a weeks journey away, and that’s by carriage.” Sresca is running out of echoes stored away in her talisman. She is panting, exhausted, and not sure she can keep running much longer. Her companions have had much more martial training than she. She’s been using everything she can to put obstacles between them and their pursuers, but she is still going to fall behind them eventually. And she isn’t sure if either Kiut Tshu or Petra will notice.

“I know a short cut,” Kiut Tshu says. “We just need to get there. It’s close. Trust me.”

Sresca does trust Kiut Tshu. But she can’t help but wonder how much of her past with Kiut Tshu is true.

How can I forget something like Yelena’s identity? And if it’s true, why do I have memories of her and I as children? How much of my past is real? Is any of it real?

She tries to bring up any memory of their childhood; either their time with their parents or in the priory before they pledged themselves to Dana.

She cannot find any, though. She is sure she has them. She must. But nothing comes to mind.

But now is not the time to break down. She closes her eyes for a brief second, hoping for just one calming second in her meadow, but it’s not there. She can’t even hear Zephyr. Her mind is quiet, for once her mind is completely quiet. No intrusive voices, no crying child, nothing.

Sresca wants to relish in the quiet, but instead it just makes her uneasy.

“In there,” Kiut Tshu motions to an abandoned building before throwing an explosive device at their pursuers. It flashes brightly and then the air fills with smoke.

They enter the building and the shadows inside twist about them in unnatural ways. “Where are we?” Petra asks, voices wavering.

“There should be a hatch somewhere.” Kiut Tshu gets on her hands and knees and feels the floor, fingers searching for something. “Here.” She presses on a stone and a small hatch opens up revealing a ladder that seems to go on forever into the pitch black.

“Climb down there? And be trapped on a ladder when our pursuers catch up? No.”

“They won’t catch us. I shall destroy the building once we are below the hatch and the entrance will seal until another Mercy comes to unlock it.”

“I know the Forum grants you an exception to the ban on aclaeric use, but I had no idea the extent to which you’ve been taking advantage of our largesse.” Petra raises an eyebrow as hir tone darkens but there is still a glint of mirth in hir eyes.

Kiut Tshu scoffs. “Do you want me to save you or not? Get in the damn hole.”

Petra complies and Sresca follows her. The ladder is surprisingly sturdy, but it feels like the shadows are deeper, darker here. Like they are alive.

The descend in silence, and Sresca loses track of time. She starts to wonder if there even is a bottom, or if they will be climbing down this ladder forever. She wonders if she lets go and allows herself to fall, if she would ever hit the bottom.

Her hands shake and her foot slips. She makes her peace with Dana and relishes the brief feeling of weightlessness as she falls toward whatever awaits her below.

But then her arm is yanked painfully, her shoulder hot with agony. “Got you,” Petra says, clutching her hand tightly. “I won’t let you fall.”

She does not remember how to speak as Petra somehow throws her over hir shoulder and descends the rest of the ladder with one hand around Sresca’s waist.

The bottom is not much further, and Kiut Tshu holds out a hand full of fire, illuminating the dark caverns faintly. “We are going under the mountain,” she says.

“That will still take a few days,” Petra replies, setting Sresca down gently on the ground.

Sresca gets to her hands and knees, trying to catch her breath, and is shocked to find that the ground is stone. Stone that had been carefully laid with masonry. Like streets. But who would have paved an underground road? Who would have brought heavy rock down that ladder over and over again? And why?

“Not with the route we will take. This path intersects with Where the Shadows Sleep, Dana’s domain. It will take us right outside the Temple, to the basement of one of our auxiliary buildings.”

“Did the Temple build this tunnel?” The more she touches the stone, the more it seems familiar, but it’s not the same kind of stone as used at the Temple.

“No. We found it. But we’ve repurposed it.”

“Who built it?” Petra asks.

“Not sure, never bothered to ask.” Kiut Tshu bites her lip. “It’s useful.”

Sresca loved many things about Kiut Tshu. This was not one of them.

She rises to her feet and follows Kiut Tshu. “You told me you had a plan,” Sresca says to Petra. “Was it just getting me to a carriage?”

“No. It involved getting you to the Temple. But I was not anticipating getting caught.”

“You were going to come back with me?”

“No. No. I would make sure Volkov had no idea I was involved. I would have gone back with him.”

“Why?”

“I will tell you someday. But I wasn’t going back because I agree with him.”

“Did he tell you his plans?”

“He had plants in the audience; people who would cry out for you.”

“I figured that much out.”

“But he had more. All the people shouting curses at you? Also his. He ordered them to attack you.”

“ He had them attack me?”

“Make his enemy look bad. When the Forum comes through to investigate, they will find that many of those launching attacks at you were supporters of the political faction that often clashes with Volkov’s faction. His enemies will be dragged through the mud, discredited as violent and unhinged. And people will overlook that Volkov has been training a secret army since said army saved the day.”

“That’s… That’s so devious.”

“That’s what it takes to be on top, if you ask him.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Sresca says. “There doesn’t have to be a top or bottom.”

“I do not care about any of that right now. I care that you almost got hurt.”

“Did you hear what Volkov was saying to the High Priestess?” Part of her is nervous to ask. If Yelena is the real princess, then it was Yelena that had once been engaged to Petra… Perhaps in love with hir if Petra’s version of the story is true.

“No. I knew they were shouting at each other, but I was too far away to make out what they said, plus with all the screaming and commotion… I’m sorry. But I know she would want you to get to the Temple.”

She shouldn’t be relieved, but she is. She does not want Petra realizing that her lost love might be alive. She wants Petra to want her.

That shouldn’t even be on her mind right now, but… “I heard her shout a name. Nadia. Does that mean anything to you?” It feels too close to admitting something, to giving away some dangerous truth. The voices all wake up in her mind at once, screaming at her. Yelling at her. Chiding her.

“Nadia was the name of Princess Kyra’s body double. I don’t think I ever met her, though. She was only used when Kyra left the palace. She looked enough like the princess that from a distance you couldn’t tell the difference. But up close? It would have been obvious.”

“Body double… I see.”

She doesn’t want to think about it. Everything in her head is telling her to forget it. Forget this strange bit of useless trivia, forget the conversation between Volkov and Yelena. Forget it.

She’s Sresca. She’s always been Sresca. Yelena has always been Yelena. They’ve always been sisters. They’ve lived for decades at the Temple of Dana.

Just get back to the Temple, Zephyr tells her.

“We’re almost there.” Kiut Tshu halts, searching for something in the dark.

They’ve only been walking for half a day if Sresca has any command over the sense of time.

“Neat trick,” Petra says as Kiut Tshu raises her illuminated hand higher and reveals another ladder.

“This will lead us to the basement of our old sanctuary. It’s locked up now, used mostly for Mercy training. We will be on Temple grounds, though, and even if Volkov wants to attack, he won’t.”

“I don’t know about that,” Petra says. “I really don’t think he has any respect for Dana or Her Temples.”

It again feels like it takes hours to climb the ladder, but this time Sresca does not falter. Kiut Tshu pushes the cover off the top, and the room opens before them as they climb out.

The sun had been halfway through its voyage through the sky when she started her ritual, but now no light shines through the stained-glass windows of the abandoned sanctum. She takes it in, feeling a sense of calm seeing all the symbols of Dana. She approaches the altar, still standing, and places her hands on it. “Why was it abandoned?”

“I don’t know,” Kiut Tshu replies. “It is a useful means of the Mercy departing from the Temple without being seen, and a useful way for us to get back. That is all I care about.”

She turns away from the alter and notices that some of the mason work matches that of the underground passage. This building, or parts of it, were not built by the Order of Dana. She crinkles her nose.

“Come on. We must get to the main building.” Kiut Tshu’s voice is harsh, insistent; they must report this to the rest of the Temple, they must get word about Volkov’s treachery.

Sresca knows it’s important, but she wants to explore this building more. Something is pulling at her; tugging at her.

But she follows Kiut Tshu out the heavy oak doors.

Her chest tightens; the scene before them is worse than she could have imagined. Fire is raining down from the sky, pelting the Temple. Ice is being hurled at it from the ground. The wind is howling all around it. It’s being bombarded by aclaerical attacks.

“How did they get here so quickly?” Kiut Tshu asks. “How did he get his entire army here?”

“They were already here.” Petra’s hand reaches for the pommel of hir ceremonial sword. “The army he has been training in Novakov is not his only one. It isn’t even his largest. He has a dozen schools throughout Tsvetokrasa. He can mobilize them any time he wishes; he can take any region when he pleases. And he can retaliate against the Temple that stole his princess.”

Sresca can’t look away from the devastation. “He wants more than Tsvetokrasa. He wants more than the throne.”

“I do not doubt it. But, right now, we need to find somewhere else to be.”

“Yes, you must leave.” A voice comes from behind them. They turn around and the woman from Sresca’s dreams is standing behind them—the Evenstar, still cloaked and hooded, but solid before them. And from the reactions of her companions, she knows she is not the only one to see her.

“My children, my scions,” she approaches them. She looks so solid, yet when she raises a hand and holds it to Sresca’s cheek, all she feels is cold air. “You must leave. If you stay here and fight, all that awaits is a pointless death.”

“Who are you?” Petra draws hir sword; the edges may be dull, but sie brandishes it anyway.

“I am a friend. An ally. Sresca knows me already. I have given her aid and I would extend that aid to you, too.” She holds up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“That does not answer my question.” Petra takes two steps toward the Evenstar, sword still raised. “Give me a name.”

“You may call me the Evenstar for now. I will answer more fully in time, but there is none of that right now.”

“Who do you work for?”

“I work for the good of Ahnlisen. And right now, that means saving the High Priestess and stopping Leo Volkov.”

“You know how to save Yelena?” Sresca takes in a deep breath and approaches. “My sister?”

“Yes, there is a way to save your sister and your nation. We must stop the sins of the past from being repeated. But you will need to travel to the ends of the world to find it.”

“Just tell me.” Sresca clenches her fists. “Anything to save my sister.”

“But not your nation? Not the world? Interesting. That is fine with me, though.” She pulls a piece of paper from her robe and unfolds it, showing it to Sresca. A map it etched into the parchment in shimmering gold. “There is an old mine to the west of here. Once inside of it, take the first left, and then continue to the next fork. Take the left again. There shall be a ladder at the end of it. Take the ladder. You will find yourself inside of an old temple. Behind the altar, you will find another hatch. Open it and descend into the Erevluné.”

Sresca reaches out her hand to take the map, but it just passes through it.

“The Erevluné?” Kiut Tshu asks. “What is this?”

“All that is left of once great peoples. But beware the Shadowraks you shall find there; they will test your steel and your determination.” The Evenstar does not flinch even as sorrow laces her words, she just continues her explanation. “There, far beneath the surface, you shall travel through what remains of Kraysgone and Mirosla—and the ghosts that still haunt their cities—until you find the way through the wall of ice and arrive at the hidden islands of the Lisen’s sins. There you shall find the Ring of Refulgence.”

Sresca is pulled into her meadow unexpectedly, the Evenstar standing under a wisteria tree and holding out her hand. “This is the item you must find,” she says, her fingers uncurling to show a purple-gold ring. It has intricate engravings across the entire band. “The metal is rare, only the Ástfríður know how to forge it. But it is the key to unlocking a mighty weapon, one which will give you the power to defeat Volkov and save not just Yelena, but the republic, Ahnlisen, and the rest of the world.”

“But what if—”

“No. You must. I am counting on you, my daughter. I shall etch the map into your mind, but this is the last aid I can render unto you until the Ring of Refulgence is in your possession.”

The Evenstar kisses Sresca on the forehead and then she, and the meadow, are gone.

---

This is a draft chapter. Contents may change between now and publication.

This is currently being made available for free as a thank you for helping the PRIDE: Brighter than the Stars Bundle on Itchio meet its goals. A new chapter unlocks with every $500 milestone.

Get the Bundle Now