Alexia startled awake. Her heart slammed in her chest. Sweat covered her in a thick sheet. A frantic, frenetic energy drove her into blind action. She dove for her staff and clung to it with white knuckles. Her breath came in faster than it came out and she trembled, holding tight to Aurora. She scanned, jerking her head left to right and right to left to up to down and up again. She did this for several turns before she believed that she was alone in the tent.
Sir Barnett and his sword were not here. Nor was Maleon Stonebreaker and his cutting words. The weight of the entire planet was not crashing down on her. Her shoulders were not straining to lift that burden. Her legs were not aching, trying to move under that impossible load. There was no skeleton begging for her to save him despite the massive, bloody hole in his head. Of shadows, there were a few. The sun was high in the sky of Gidi’s day, like the war looming over her. Her shadow cast upon the canvas, always behind her no matter how much she strived toward the light.
Alexia gathered herself, whimpering and correcting her breathing the way she had been trained. Those early lessons—instilled by teachers like Master Lyle and Master Theos—were deeply embedded into her and came even when her body wanted to hyperventilate and scream into the sky. She did nothing other than breathe for several degrees. She counted her breaths until they numbered a thousand, closing her eyes and visualizing each number dancing in front of her. Intruders tried to sever her focus. Alexia let them in and saw them with her inner eye, then shifted back to those dancing numbers. As she counted higher, she added truths to counter the lies. She was safe in the tent. Barnett and Maleon were dead. She couldn’t have saved Timmeck. Allison wasn’t chasing her. Only her conscience followed her and all she could do was look forward. Just like she had read in Queen Alexia’s journals: Look forward, because that is what will make you great.
Alexia set Aurora down and opened her eyes. She was still alone in the tent. A midday sun crowned the sky. Some of those mental intruders couldn’t be refuted for they were truths. Alexia was nauseous from an entire day of deprivation, drowsy from oversleeping, and dirtier than she cared to be. She longed for her mother to take care of her. Alas, Ione Bluerose was three hundred miles away in Sapphirica. An entire world of problems separated Alexia from her home and destination.
Alexia groaned, wishing everything didn’t have to be so hard. She was tired of hard, of an endless series of challenges no matter if she looked back, forward, or at the present moment. Yet, she knew she could start a journey with a single step and that step didn’t have to be a great leap forward but only an opening of a door and a single toe onward. Thus, today’s trials could begin with the procurement of much needed sustenance.
Alas, Alexia’s hand froze on the tent flap. Even opening your door and wiggling a single toe into the world could seem the most daunting of tasks when the thought of being surrounded by people threatened to curl you into a paralyzed globe. Her thoughts were a billion blades sharpened on the grindstones of ‘what if’ and ‘I can’t.’
She sat down, folded her legs, and crossed her arms. Alexia stared at that tent flap as her stomach growled and felt powerless. Alexia wished her parents were here to play accomplices in her avoidance. Were Azi here, the princess could be bombastic to the point that Alexia could fade into the background. Had the world been the way she wished, Zander could bring her breakfast and then spark her confidence with his affection and passion. The burst of confidence she had felt yesterday when she healed the wounded and spoke her dreams seemed to happen to another woman. How could that woman be the same person as this helpless little girl?
Alexia lowered her eyes and told herself that woman yesterday was a mirage. She expected that most of the encampment had already forgotten their commitments to peace. Zamael’s Hells, soon they would be throwing open the tent flap and dragging her back out into the fields of flowers to spill more blood. Worse, she would do it because her divinedamned emotionless mask would plaster itself back onto her face and she would go along with whatever they said because she was fundamentally incapable of saying no or of intentionally disappointing others who expected things of her.
The sun turned in the sky until it started to wind down, her stomach growling until it felt like she could never possibly eat food again with how much it ached. Yet, Alexia sat there with a blank expression as her mind tortured itself with all the worst-case imaginings of embarrassing herself or disappointing others. The web of self-doubt she spun entangled her in her self-made fears, ensuring they would return to snare her another day if not every day. As was oft the case, she was rescued by another, an unknowing savior.
Alexia froze when she saw the shadow outside the tent. A broad man bent down near the flap and set something upon the ground. It clattered and clanged when it scraped against another object that the man retrieved from just outside her tent.
The Second Great Wizard cursed herself. She had trapped herself in her own misery for angles with only the company of her growling stomach and self-sabotaging brain while a platter of food had been waiting just beyond the flap.
Alexia counted to a hundred, even though the man’s shadow had long disappeared by then, then peeked outside. She reached for the platter and pulled it back into her hideaway.
The pit in her stomach wasn’t sated by food and drink. Alexia released a dry sob, wishing that the world was different. Zamael’s Hells! She enumerated her problems: Mirrevar, the Gemstone War, the Celegans. Beneath those umbrella problems were countless more problems. She had no idea what to do. She wished the problems would disappear or that somebody else could solve them. She prayed to the Divine Thirteen, begging them to make things right.
She put both hands over her face and massaged her temples, knowing that the answers to the world’s problems needed to come from her and that no Divine was going to solve them for her. Her father’s philosophies reached her, pushing her into a pragmatic survival mode. Just wishing something to be different wouldn’t make it so. That path led only to the failure to accept reality and that would only bring her pain and make what she had to do harder. No. This was not the season for helpless tears and paralyzing fears. Alexia needed to swallow the reality of the situation like bitter medicine then stomach the struggle ahead of her. The wallowing needed to end.
Look forward.
Alexia inhaled, held, and exhaled. She looked far enough ahead to visualize her next step. Now she needed to walk the road to her answers.
Sir Hammond sat on the opposite side of the street, faithfully watching. He lurched to his feet. “Leverith!” he declared, his cheerful voice matching his smile, “you know how to sleep!”
Naturally, every nearby camp worker tuned into his exclamations, ceased everything they were doing, and found her amidst them. Her hand returned to the tent flap, longing to avoid this and everything that would follow. She exhaled. Her lips rose and her voice was sunshine, but her weary eyes were no true sunrise. “Good evening, Sir Hammond!”
Alexia stared at the ground, scrambling for ideas to get out of this. Her mind wandered to legends about witches who could disappear and reappear, channeling Dalis’s divine energy to morph themselves into mist. Her father’s spies reported that Lira Tidecaller had rediscovered that power. How Alexia wished she could evaporate from this place and condense inside of Elianor’s tent. Alas, Alexia was not that talented with Dalis nor was she inside some fantasy.
She was out of place in these everyday human interactions, surrounded by strangers and acquaintances that expected her to be capable of engaging in the social dance that seemed to come naturally to most people. But Alexia couldn’t find the steps nor the rhythm to dance with them. Instead of trying her best to keep up, she spent so much time staring at her feet, waiting for everyone to notice how incapable she was.
She was lost in the prolonged silence, waiting for a lifebuoy to grasp onto. Sir Hammond threw one. “Is there anything I can do for you, Alexia.”
Alexia nodded and her eyes flitted to him. He probably had to strain his ears to hear her unsteady utterance. “Can you escort me to Master Silverglow?”
“Of course!” Sir Hammond strode to her side. “Right this way.”
Alexia walked as though she were moving through the world’s most narrow tunnel. Her eyes stayed ahead, locked in place, focused on the goal and nothing else. Hammond quickly gave up on getting her to be his dance partner, as she defaulted to single word responses that cut the dance short.
“Elianor Silverglow hasn’t left since we returned,” Hammond warned as they arrived at the command pavilion. “But perhaps you can rouse her.”
Alexia hesitated. The original flap had been blown away by Maleon, and its replacement clashed with the rest of the pavilion’s design. “I will try,” Alexia promised, braving through the flap.
So much and so little had changed since Alexia was last here. Maps and parchment haphazardly covered a well-crafted oak table in the center of a spacious room. Master Elianor Silverglow, dressed in sapphire robes striped with silver, sat alone in a cushioned chair that faced away from the entrance. She stirred, rising to her feet, and painstakingly rotated. Elianor moved like she was down to her last breath.
Alexia was astonished by what she saw. Elianor’s face had aged fifteen years in five days. Her extravagant beauty, so evident a few days ago, was obscured by the pall of her grief. The silver-haired witch wore lines and wrinkles where once smooth surfaces existed. Her shoulders slumped and her body sagged. Cognitive-affectomancers aged much more slowly than their peers. Alexia had never seen the anti-aging effects undone as if decades of delayed aging flooded through, washing away all traces of the shining diamond and leaving behind dull quartz.
Alexia’s heart thrummed with sadness as her mind echoed Elianor’s pain. That intense emotional resonance shattered shyness and self-consciousness. There would be no social dancing here. Instead, they ventured into Alexia’s realm, where she formed deeper bonds with individuals who were in pain and needed some love. Alexia, eyes glistening, embraced her. “I am sorry.”
Elianor leaned into her, her arms hanging at her side. The shorter woman rested her head against Alexia’s chest and sniffled once before closing the embrace and letting silenced sobs sneak away from her guarded heart.
When last Alexia was within these walls, she had realized that Elianor was the only light in Conrad’s life. She now realized that the reverse held true. Without Conrad, Elianor could no longer glow.
Parted from Zander, Alexia felt a fragment of Elianor’s agony. She multiplied that feeling by a lifetime spent together and was amazed this woman could stand. As it was, Elianor’s channeling was muted like the pulse of a dying man. The master was hemorrhaging divine energy. The loss of her power and her grief left Elianor a husk of the great woman she had been. Alexia held her and tried to inject Leverith back into her life. Shockwaves of blue light emitted from Alexia like compressions to the chest to reawaken a stilled heart.
Elianor’s spirit rejected Leverith. The waves of love crashed against her shores, finding sand that could not hold water. The water was sent back into the sea. Leverith’s light rebounded back into Alexia, where it found a home in her caring heart.
“Elianor,” Alexia lamented.
“You truly are Leverith’s chosen,” Elianor tonelessly muttered. “Leverith has abandoned me. May she never do the same to you, child.”
Alexia held Elianor’s words as much as she held her.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“If only you had been here sooner. No. If only I had stalled them longer.”
Sir Hammond cleared his throat. “Sir Aldius advised Master Conrad and Sir Lucius to assault the Ruby encampment after our victories the night you crossed Mirrevar. He declared that we ought to claim Mirrevar in your name, Alexia, in order to facilitate your safe return. Sir Lucius and Master Conrad wanted to press the assault immediately. Only Master Elianor’s wisdom held them back. Then our scouts errantly confirmed Aldius’s observations that the Ruby was broken and—”
“And I should have still objected,” Elianor interjected.
Sighing, Elianor let Alexia go and collapsed into her chair. “I wanted him to wait for you and Maleon to return. But Conrad had always felt threatened by Maleon. Maleon and he were in the same training cohorts and Conrad had never matched Maleon once. The relationship Maleon and I once shared only deepened his wound. Then Maleon achieved more in one day than Conrad had achieved in years.”
Elianor''s features tightened. “I was a fool to mention waiting for Maleon! Conrad shouted at me. He would be a better man than the divinedamned Stonebreaker!”
Elianor stifled a sob and swallowed. “I told him.” She ground her teeth and set her eyes on Alexia’s. “I told him that he was a better man than Maleon. He had made me feel cared for in ways Maleon was incapable of.” She lowered her eyes and seemed to exhale any trace of joy. “He told me that wasn’t enough. He’d prove to everyone, but most of all, himself that he wasn’t inferior.”
Alexia put her hand on Elianor’s shoulder, hating how one man’s pride cost this woman everything. “You did your best to stop him.”
Elianor shook her head. “I should’ve pressed him to abandon the assault once Sir Lucius had fallen. I should’ve stopped him thirteen other times.”
“He needed his life’s mate to believe in him.” Alexia choked back a sob, thinking of Zander. “Your doubt would have broken him, Elianor.”
“And I wanted to believe in him,” she said, wiping away tears on her silver sleeve. “I wanted him o feel like he was just as good as Maleon, even though I knew he wasn’t. Now he is dead and—” Elianor reached for Leverith, unable to draw on the Divine of Love even in the place where her power was most abundant. She wept.
“Maleon is dead too.”
Elianor wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth. Alexia embraced her again, caressing Elianor’s back as she sobbed. Alexia felt like she should say something. Alas, none of her words seemed worthy. There was nothing but misery here and nothing Alexia said could soften that or cast it in a sunny light.
Elianor retrieved her ash staff and tried to produce a spell. Only a tiny sliver of Leverith’s spirit left the tip of her staff and it quickly diffused. Elianor shook her head, dropped her staff, and sighed. “I’m of no use to anyone.”
Elianor couldn’t channel Leverith, Norali, or Dalis. Likely, the power still existed within her but her connection to the three Divine was severed emotionally. That connection could be reestablished. Alexia had to give her a purpose. She had to give Elianor a reason to live, a reason to love, a reason to hope, and guide her back toward serenity and confidence. She didn’t have to search hard.
“I need you,” Alexia told her. “Every day, Leveria’s beloved part because of this war. The women of Leveria watch as their men are conscripted. We wait for them and often never see them again or we see men return broken by what they have seen. We volunteer to go with them and then watch as they die in our arms. These stories are our stories, Elianor. They are the stories of millions of Leverian women over the last seven hundred and thirteen years. If nothing changes, these will be the stories of our daughters who have yet to be born.”
Alexia took her hand. “Unless we rewrite the script. I need you to help me end this war so that no more lovers must part like this. I need you to help me prevent what has happened to you from happening again.”
Elianor let out a mirthless laugh that baffled Alexia. Alexia began to doubt her charisma again. She lowered her head as a cloud of shame gathered over her.
A moment later, Elianor spoke with a more pleasant voice than any Alexia had heard from her today. “You speak with a powerful magnetism, Bluerose. I might believe that you might just achieve the impossible.” Elianor raised her eyebrow. “Maybe.”
Alexia looked up and smiled at the witch, feeling her fragile esteem return to a comfortable position atop of a rickety wall that could fall apart at the slightest breeze.
Elianor shook her head and rose straighter in her chair. “I do not believe that the Divine Thirteen care about the stories of women. They have a father but no mother. Zamael’s Hells! Celegana, Qoryxa, and Seraxa betray us. They grant men access to five divine energies and women only three.” Elianor pressed her finger into Alexia’s chest. “Except for you. They care about you and perhaps that is why you can end this war.”
Alexia took a seat across from Elianor, her back to the entrance. “I think the Divine Thirteen do care, Elianor. If I had to choose between the five and the three, I would take the three every time. Seraxa’s fire, Qoryxa’s ice, Zafrir’s wind, Balbaraq’s sky, and Celegana’s earth can be mighty assets on a battlefield. However, Dalis’s water, Norali’s light, and Leverith’s spirit are more fundamental to life. In fact, I would choose Leverith’s spirit over the rest of them together. Dalis and Norali are bargains. We are blessed with the power to heal what is broken. Fix this nation with me. Help me bind it together so that our suffering can end.”
Elianor nodded. Then she shocked Alexia by smiling. Elianor inhaled, held, and exhaled. “Alright, Leverith’s Chosen, I’m with you.”
“Leverith’s Chosen,” a strong voice repeated from behind Alexia. “A fitting title for you, Alexia. Your unmatched beauty is a gift from the Divine of Love.”
Alexia turned and saw the raven-haired Sir Aldius of Lelac standing beside Sir Hammond. Wearing a tight sleeveless tunic, Aldius struck an imposing figure, especially beside portly Hammond. His masculine face—framed with a broad forehead and hard jawline—would be enough to enrapture most Leverian women. And he knew it so well that he couldn’t accept when one didn’t yearn for him. His dark eyes devoured Alexia with ravenous lust.
She knew her reputation and her appearance made men like Aldius view her as a grand conquest, an epic tribute to Leverith, or even the one they’d want to bond for their own shallow avarice. In this case, understanding didn’t make her hate being coveted any less. It seemed that every time she started feeling comfortable in her own body someone would remind her of how she failed to learn the steps in Leveria’s social dance. Couldn’t she just be left alone? Why did everything have to be so hard?
Aldius grinned at her and strode forth with his head cocked. He ran a hand through her hair. Alexia shriveled at his touch. “Even your hair is magical,” he said, his voice a deep coo. “Yesterday waves of golden greatness and today a perfect brown more beautiful than the bark of Covademara. How do you do that?”
“Because I’m half Kavovan,” she answered, hoping the appeasement would get him to leave her alone. A foolish hope, counting on appeasement to satiate one entitled to adoration.
He towered above her as she sat in the chair, his hand stopped along her cheeks. “You cannot convince me that you’re not a Kavovan metamorph, shaping yourself to perfection.” Aldius’s invading hand glided along her hair from root to shoulder. He gave her a squeeze. “You hide an athletic shape beneath these scholar’s robes too. I wonder what other secrets there are to discover. Shall we find the answers? You and I, astride my horse. Tonight. We could inspect Goddess Hill and plan for re-fortification. Then rise in the morning beneath a Covademara sunrise far wiser.”
He took her hand and pulled it toward his mouth. Alexia broke through the ice that had frozen her thus far and retracted from him.
“That is enough, Aldius,” Hammond rebuked. “She isn’t some tavern wench.”
Elianor grunted. “Seat yourself, Aldius, and stay your hands.”
Aldius held his hands aloft as he eased into the chair beside Alexia. “Very well. Then let us discuss our destiny.” He turned his eyes back onto Alexia. “Fair goddess, I can make all of your dreams come true.”
“You know how to end the fighting?” Nobody could mistake the personal assault Elianor volleyed at Aldius.
“Come sit, Hammond,” Aldius ordered. Hammond obliged, claiming the seat beside Elianor. Aldius leaned toward Hammond. “You were with us when we crossed Mirrevar. You witnessed our small squadron destroy an entire battalion of knights without a single casualty.”
Hammond nodded at Alexia. “Stonebreaker was incredible, but you were legendary.
Aldius pounded a fist against the table. “Exactly! Alexia will not fail us as Silverglow and Conrad did. She is worth thirteen of each of them.” He glared at Elianor and leaned forward, daring her to challenge him. “You let that shiny little bitch control the battlefield. Alexia will render her as useless as she made you. The Ruby have no more traps waiting for us. Conrad, in all his brilliance, already led us into each one of them. I will slay their red devil. We take Mirrevar, reinforce our hold upon it, and force Adameon Ruby to the negotiation table.”
Aldius set his hand back on Alexia’s cheek. She was too stunned to do more than open her mouth and let it hang ajar. She couldn’t leave this man in charge of the encampment. The only thing that exceeded his lust for her was his lust for conquest.
“Let Adameon know that he cannot face you in war, Alexia. Let him know that his only hope is to befriend you in peace. Afterward, you can host a gathering here in Mirrevar and end this war on your terms. The Second Great Peace shall be yours.”
Alexia leaned away from Aldius. His hand fell and he pulled it away. “I cannot demand peace by waging war,” Alexia countered. “If there is to be peace, let it begin now. I will not attack the Ruby Kingdom.”
“And what will you do when the Ruby attacks us?” Aldius asked. “We defeated the Brighton Hedgemen but either the LaGrett Howlers or the much more powerful Bearbreaker Peacewatch will supplant them soon. Do you think they will sit in their encampment waiting for us to reinforce our defenses? Another fight is inevitable whether you want it or not, Alexia. Fight now while the prospect of victory is best. A small battle to end all battles is a small price to pay. The price of any other course you take is far steeper.”
Elianor sighed. “He speaks truth. If we do nothing, Iceheart will come with a Peacewatch host and drive us from Mirrevar. Our best move is to strike immediately, choke the Peacewatch at the Impwood Landbridge, and have Alexia destroy the LaGrett fleet at the Owlbear Confluence. That decisive victory will force Adameon Ruby to negotiate with you, Alexia.”
She felt the knots slipping around her, binding her hands. Fight against Zander, destroy a Ruby fleet, cause more deaths, more suffering, more orphaned Allisons, more Elianors never to see their beloved again. She clenched her fists and refused their advice. “We cannot continue to fight the Ruby. What if we abandon Mirrevar? That is, if they are poised to attack us.”
Alexia looked to Elianor for an answer, but it was Aldius who responded fastest, his patronizing tone thinly veiled. “That is not an option. If we lose Mirrevar, half of the Sapphire Kingdom will be vulnerable to Ruby raiding.”
“Iceheart would not stop while he has an army at full strength.” Elianor pointed at a larger map of the Sapphire Kingdom. “They could assault Maypine and Weiss by land. They could also target Zafirton, Ross, Lelac, Eggerton, or Eagle’s Run by water. Any of those cities would be outmatched by an unhindered Bearbreaker army, especially if that shiny witch and her red devil are with them. Even worse, the people outside those cities would be defenseless.” She looked up and set her gaze firmly on Alexia. “Under those circumstances, Adameon Ruby would laugh at any attempt to call for peace.”
The assault hit Alexia from all sides as Hammond joined the voices of devastating reason. “Alexia, with your help, I know we would win against the Ruby army that is garrisoned in Mirrevar now. Had you been with us two nights ago, we would already be uncontested.”
“Aye,” Aldius added. “It wouldn’t have been a contest with Alexia or the Stonebreaker. Where is he?”
“Dead.” That was all Alexia could manage.
“What a pity. I can’t say I liked the man, but he was certainly a more competent wizard than others I knew.”
Elianor glared at Aldius. These two would divide this army in half if Alexia didn’t find a solution. Yet, seeking guidance had only taken her further from the path she dreamed of. Could she buy peace at the cost of more war? Could more death ultimately buy life for Leveria? Could another battle be the answer? She knew what Maleon would say. He would call her innocent for thinking it possible to avoid this battle. He would tell her that her destiny was to make the Ruby submit and that would save Leveria.
Alexia reached a hand into her robe pocket and brushed it against the doll. She had to protect all Leverians, including the Ruby soldiers in Mirrevar. Yet, how could she protect them if the Ruby brought the fight to the Sapphire? Was she still being innocent? Even after Ferrickton, had she not learned? Sometimes love wasn’t enough on its own. Sometimes heroes played the part of villains. Linus Peacemaker had battled the Sapphire Kingdom repeatedly before forging the Great Peace. Did she have to fight one more battle? Against the red devil? Against Zander?
The idea of such a future tore at the seams of her fragile heart. If she looked forward and saw only that possibility, it would render her as broken as Elianor. Yet, what other futures could be forged with these options? She had to prevent another battle to keep both armies safe and she had to simultaneously travel to Sapphirica to speak with King Gideon to stop the battles that were waged in the other disputed territories.
And neither could wait. Peace was not just a girl’s dream. Peace was the only way they could survive the Chimaera. If they could even survive then. She had to leave, but if she did, another battle would break out and more Leverians would die. Worst of all, if the Ruby held Mirrevar they wouldn’t be open to peace.
The broken witch and the two knights stared at her. She tuned out Aldius’s encouragement that they would achieve her goals if she committed to the plan.
Look forward. Look forward. Look forward! That is what will make you great.
Alexia closed her eyes and clutched at her sternum. She felt the place the locket belonged and tried to reach for it. Instead, Leverith’s divine energy answered. Alexia surrendered to the Divine of Love’s caress. Her inner eye began to untie the knots, clarity coming to her as it had to Queen Alexia Leveria when she stared down three competing armies from atop Goddess Hill.
The path to peace would be neither easy nor straight. Alexia would have to become the woman she had been yesterday, have to do the very thing she dreaded, and, most frightening of all, she’d have to do it very well. Yet, Alexia had lost her innocence. She knew now that life demanded more from her than loving and dreaming her problems away. Leverith would be her guide, but love needed a voice. Further, she had to accept that no matter what she did, love could fail…and yet, it was the only answer she had.