Mwyr - Chapter Fifteen

[lady_mab]

Loki sat in the back of the hall, hands folded over his stomach and gaze focused on the dark lines of his coat. The chatter filled the stone space, reflecting off the high vaulted ceiling. There were no decorations to dampen the sounds. Cold hard stone for a cold hard king.

At the head of the long table, King Hyen of Gi’Han held court. Loki remained forgotten in the shadows, out of the way of the nobles that surged closer to the king. He didn’t need to listen to know what they were talking about. It didn’t concern him anyway. The politics of Mwyr were not his concern.

The distant toll of the church bell signaled the fourth hour. With a great amount of grumbling and shuffling of papers, the crowd of nobles disbanded. Hyen, old and sallow in the flickering candle light, remained in private discussion with his advisor.

That would be his cue. Loki pushed himself to his feet with a deliberate scrape of chair legs against flagstone.

The conversation ceased immediately. Two pairs of eyes turned to watch his progress to the front of the hall. The advisor tensed, hand going to the ornate hilt of the sword at his side. “Who are you?”

Hyen started to speak, but Loki held up a hand to stop both of them. His mind reached, and he could feel the tingle of magic at the tips of his fingers. “The court magician, my lord.” A ball of flames flickered and glowed in the palm of his hand.

“Lord Nizuni, leave us.” The king focused his attention on Loki, who returned the look with a cool smile.

“But--”

“That’s an order. Wait outside.”

Lord Nizuni all but pouted, releasing his grip on the hilt to allow the blade to slide back into its sheath. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He shot Loki a withering glare as he passed, heavy footfalls fading to a distant echo as he made his exit.

Loki let the fire extinguish itself when the wooden door at the far end of the hall slammed shut. After allowing Hyen’s exasperated stare to stretch out a bit longer, he swept into a deep bow. His braided white-blond hair slipped over his shoulder with the motion. “Your Majesty. How nice to see you again.”

“Save it for someone who thinks you are being honest, magician.” He dropped into the carved chair at the head of the table and ignored the scattered parchments. “What are you here for? Come to collect the debt owed?”

“A bit.” He circled the table, attention on the figures and letters scribbled onto the pages. “Trade seems to be doing poorly in the southern end of your kingdom,” he observed. His fingers plucked up a sheet as his eyes ticked over the numbers. “Rotia giving you trouble?”

Hyen swung to his feet and yanked the parchment from Loki’s grip. “I’m not about to test the limit of your generosity. What are you here for?”

Loki held up his hands. “The Goddess walks on Mwyr, as I’m sure you’ve heard by now. He spotted the Church’s seal on several of the pages. “On her way to Hullenscir as we speak.”

The king bundled up the parchments on the table, exposing the scarred wood beneath. “Yes. The body of your sister, wasn’t it?”

“So they say.” Loki folded his hands behind his back and reigned in the response he wanted to spit back. It shouldn’t surprise him that the king of Gi’Han knew. He matched pace with Hyen as they both began to circle the table. “I am here to tell you how to start paying me back.”

“What would you have me do?” Hyen maintained the distance at the opposite end. Two predators, waiting for the other to strike first.

A huff of laughter escaped him. “Come now, Your Majesty. Don’t think of it as what I am having you do. You are doing this as much for me as you are for yourself and your country. Think of it as a way to… ensure Gi’Han’s survival.” If it works went unspoken. He didn’t need to vocalise his doubts.

People expected him to know everything. As if his rare ability to use magic extended beyond pulling energies from the earth. The future was best left unknown, in his opinion. He already knew too much of the past.

Either Hyen didn’t pick up on the uncertainties, or his confidence went past any fear of the future. “How so?”

Loki produced the diamond from thin air. He spun the chain between his fingers so that the stone caught the light of the thousands of candles. “I have something that belongs to the Goddess. You will give it back to her as a gesture of goodwill.”

Hyen studied the diamond from across the table. His cheeks flushed and he planted his hands against the wooden surface. “That’s her necklace -- the actual necklace she wore when she first came to Mwyr.” He reached for it, but Loki tossed it in the air and caught it again, storing it back into his pocket. It was painfully obvious how the surge of power from the stone affected the king. “Where did you get that? Not even the Church has been able to find it. The previous three received replacements -- clearer diamonds, better cuts, but they were just stone.”

The one Loki possessed was pure power. Her so-called ‘star’. Even if Arika couldn’t remember her past, she would know the difference between her necklace and a symbolic replacement.

“How I have it is not important,” he said. He didn’t even know the full extent of it himself. It was around the same time he had first seen the Ti’Corrah. When he had first known that he was something different. “What you need to focus on is getting the Goddess here so that it may be presented to her.”

Hyen’s pudgy fingers splotched white and puce as he gripped the edge of the table. “Will you let me hold it?”

Loki didn’t like to think of himself as possessive. There was little he carried with him that held any value. But the diamond, now warm and nestled against his thigh, pulsed in time with his heart. It had been a part of him for as long as he could remember. Its magic flowed through him, an extension of his own abilities.

It was a symbol of his shared past with the girl who used to be the Goddess.

He hesitated and hoped the desperate glint blazing in Hyen’s gaze remained absent from his. “Not yet. There is still much to do before anyone can touch it. In all honesty, I would prefer to be the one to put it on her--”

“No!” The man lunged, intent on launching himself around the edge to confront him. Loki shifted from one spot to another, enjoying the rush of cool shadows that carried him. “I will be the one.”

Knowing there was no use arguing with the king, Loki bowed his head. “Then I will ensure it has a new chain before then. The original would burn you.” An older child at the orphanage had tried to take it from him once. He earned himself a thin scar wrapped around his hand where he had gripped the chain.

Children learned to give him a wide berth after that. They avoided Chan, too, because he was big and silent. Shove the outcasts together and forget about them.

Hyen accepted this with a muttered agreement, and wrung his hands together. “When should this take place?”

“When you can get the Goddess here. I need her away from the Church for this to work.”

The king started to pace again, still wringing his hands. “A party in her honor. A masquerade! I will host it here, at the castle. A hefty donation to the Church coffers to keep them placated.”

Loki didn’t say anything, standing perfectly still by the throne in the back of the room. It remained separate from Hyen’s ornate chair at the council table. Far more simple in design, but decorated for a man who conquered kingdoms. He ran his fingers along the scroll work, curious to know where Gi’Han would pull the funds for a donation large enough to mollify the Deacon and allow the Goddess from his grasp.

Across the hall, Hyen snapped in his direction. “I have much to consider. Once I finalize preparations on my end, you will send word to Hullenscir and the Goddess. Invite her to Gi’Han in style.”

“Very well, Your Majesty.” His parting bow was far less flamboyant than the one he greeted the king with. “I will show myself out.”

Before another word could escape the king, Loki pulled the shadows around him and released his hold on the physical restraints of the throne room.

Only when he was just about to surrender himself to the flow of magic, trusting his own abilities to guide him back to his workroom, a strong hand reached in and tugged at the diamond in his pocket.

Loki tried to gasp, but he was in an in between state. There were no lungs to expand, no air to breathe. His feet hit the ground and he stumbled under the unexpected weight of gravity. He sucked in the dry, warm air of summer, body tingling at the sensation.

A hand, real and tangible, caught onto his elbow. A man’s voice said, “Careful there, friend.”

He jerked away from the touch as his senses settled into place. He stood in the middle of a crowded street in one of Gi’Han’s lower neighborhoods. He made a point of avoiding them when he could -- avoiding contact with anyone when he could, really. But he remembered walking through the streets the day before Hyen launched his attack on Raeq. It was the early hours of morning, the last of the three moons barely visible above the brightening horizon.

Completely different than how it was now.

“Are you alright? You just appeared out of nowhere.” The man the voice belonged to stood close to his own height. Nothing much stood out about him until Loki met his eyes. They practically glowed, alight with knowledge and secrets. He was flanked by an older gentleman on one side, and a mountain of a man who would put Chan to shame on the other. Neither appeared particularly amused by their companion stopping to talk.

Loki tugged at his cloak unnecessarily. “I am fine.” His amber eyes cast about for a potential exit, unwilling to linger in the mass of humanity. “My apologies. Excuse me.”

The hand once again grasped his elbow. When Loki tried to disengage, he found himself quite powerless to do so. The muscle-bound giant grunted out something that might have been a warning, but only made the man grin.

“You can do magic, can’t you? That would make you the brother of the Goddess, wouldn’t it?” he asked, snake-like grin in place.

Loki jumped on guard immediately. It was one thing when King Hyen mentioned it, but it was another when this stranger knew. He didn’t respond -- not at first. Instead, he tried to pull at the strands of his power from the dirt to separate himself, to get away.

But every time he tried, the strands broke. Not even taken away. He could feel them shatter beneath his mental touch. There was something blocking him. The same thing that caught the attention of the power in the diamond and tugged him to a stop.

The man laughed, and at that moment, a darkness deep inside Loki stirred at the sound. Panic rose at the same time, and another failed attempt to summon his magic made him feel completely powerless for the first time since he learned that Tallah was going to die.

“What do you know of my magic or the Goddess?” Loki snapped. The hand tightened, and pain bolted up to his shoulder.

“I was thinking, perhaps, you would help me find her.” The man’s grin thinned to a sharp point for a split second before softening. He relaxed his hand, and Loki could breathe again. “She and I have a meeting that is years past due.”

An unfamiliar certainty settled, cold and weary, into the pit of his stomach. “You… you are the one that the Church--”

The hand withdrew all the way, and the man held a finger to his lips with a wink. “Not too loud now. She’s only just returned to us, after all.”

“Adder, we should keep moving. There is a timeline--” The older man was silenced with a wave of a hand.

“Just a moment, Iohel. There is something else he wants to ask me.” He glanced at his two companions, casual smile never once leaving his face. This man seemed to never stop smiling. “I will meet you at Neva’s.”

They muttered a grudging agreement before turning to melt into the crowds.

Loki tried his magic again, but it remained stifled in the man’s presence. Was that how they planned to subdue her? Cancel out her magic and make her powerless to defend herself when it mattered most? “I have nothing to say to you, sir.”

“Sir,” he echoed, chuffled. “How formal. But no, you’re wrong. I imagine you have a great many questions for me.”

“A great many, yes. For you, I have a warning: The Goddess is an integral part of my work. I do not need you to--”

Adder, if that was his name, laughed in surprise. “Of course. Your work. She would be important to you, wouldn’t she?”

Something far older than Loki stirred at those words, bristling beneath his skin. “Do not stand there and pretend to know me or my goals.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, Loki caught a flash of genuine disappointment. “Oh. My apologies, Master Magician.” Adder withdrew several steps and sketched a bow. “Forgive me speaking out of turn.” The man gave no further parting. He turned and followed his two companions into the crowds.

Loki stood frozen despite the people ebbing around him. Magic flooded his fingers with its familiar tingle. He couldn’t decide if he was chilled or burning after that encounter.

The bright-eyed man was connected to the Goddess, and would aim to steal her powers from her. He could not allow that, but perhaps he could work that man to his advantage.

Loki needed her alive, and he needed her to trust him. That would be the only way it would work.

There would not be a third time.

#

Dreams started to plague her waking hours as much as her sleep. There was nothing to distract her when riding, and it had been almost two weeks. The worst part was that even after meeting up with the envoy, there would be more riding, and more time to think, and--

Arika wanted to scream.

She began to recognize the currents that flowed through her. The girl before her, Selphie. The girl before that, Henna. The first, after the original, Rosalyn. And then there was a her that was not her. A confidence in herself and her role that she could not remember feeling once since she first opened her eyes.

Yet she kept on riding.

Cairo remained silent beyond the comments that had become their typical means of communication. He didn’t talk about their conversation across the campfire. Nor the times when she couldn’t remember who she was or where she was or what it even meant to be awake anymore.

He still refused to use her name, but she no longer begrudged him for it. I have to get used to it, she told him one day after she lost control of the power budding inside of her. Wind swirled around them, and a dense, humid heat promised a thunderstorm even if there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

The brief trial period represented by Wellfox was over. It was straight to Hullenscir and their rules. And trying to figure out her limits versus their expectations.

She understood how Selphie felt that night she met Vida. Exhaustion, but the drive to keep going. There were people who relied on her presence, her existence. Even if there was no way that she would be able to honor their requests, all she had to do was say the right words.

Prince Taen had been a test, and she was certain that she failed him. More so, she failed the part of her that wanted to help him.

A rider from the Church came across their camp in the early hours of the morning. The envoy was less than a day out, and she would be placed into their custody. The rider, a spry young girl with a broad smile and dark hair, could only stare as Arika thanked her for the news. She wore an updated version of the servants’ tabards from Selphie’s memories.

Cairo made a show of helping her pack up her part of the camp as the rider watched and rested. He hadn’t done that since their first night on the road when Arika had to command him to let her carry her own weight. He couldn’t let the doubts he had surrounding her show to the envoy.

And so she let him play the guard in waiting to the Goddess.

That had been hours ago. The rider left as they did, urging her horse off to inform the Church representatives that the Goddess was close. After she left, Arika realized that she never got the girl’s name.

“Are you nervous?” Cairo broke the silence first, though he didn’t meet her questioning gaze.

“A little.” The sun was high overhead, and beat down hard as they rode further south. She picked at the cuffs of her sweatshirt instead of rolling up the sleeves. Ever since Cairo pointed out her habit of scratching, she had a harder time removing the barrier. “They expect me to know things I don’t, and do things I can’t.”

He snorted, and his dark eyes flashed in amusement as he glanced over at her. “Welcome to what it means to be human, Lady.”

She considered this piece of information and the man who gave it to her. Oddly enough, it was one of the more comforting things he could have said. “Tell me honestly. Do you think it will work?”

This time, his snort was an obvious attempt to disguise a laugh. “Will what work?”

“Me acting like the Goddess.”

Cairo took his time replying to the point where she thought he had failed to think of an answer that wouldn’t incite her wrath. “It is not a con, Lady, if you do not think of it as one.”

She couldn’t return his gaze, and shifted her attention to the coarse hair of her horse’s mane. “I guess it comes with the fact that I am not entirely convinced that I am the Goddess made flesh.”

The sound of their horses filled the brief silence between them. “I find that hard to believe. When I first met you, I could see it straight away. There is a part of you, even before this trip, that knew and accepted your role.”

He sighed, and when Arika chanced a peek, she found him rubbing a gloved hand over his close-cut hair. “I will tell you this now, and I will only tell you this once: Don’t ever forget that you have already made up your mind that you are Arika, regardless if you are the Goddess that they expect you to be or not.”

She tried to speak, but he plowed on -- staring forward with a strained expression. “You must hold on to that. If you are certain of it, you must be certain of it always.”

The magic in her blood trembled at his words. Chan and Sera struggled to view her as a person with her own emotions and desires, or the Goddess and all the trappings that came along with the title. Cairo knew where the separation lay.

“If you ever begin to think otherwise or question your conviction, they will rip it from you. There are people who will use that weakness to their advantage. The Church will not hesitate to work a wedge into that crack and hammer away at it until you are gone.” His head tilted in her direction, and she was too slow to avoid it. His eyes held her steady, lending her confidence as they rode closer to the envoy. “To them, you are the Goddess made flesh. You are her avatar, poorly time, but they will brush it off as a calculation error.”

Arika straightened her posture, determined to uphold her end of the unspoken agreement. Cairo had told her that he did not see her as the Goddess’ avatar because of his beliefs, but she knew that he could not deny her powers. They both agreed when it came to who she was clearly not, though it remained muddled as to who she actually was.

“I understand,” she told him, and he nodded once. The familiar distance returned to his gaze and he focused once again on the road before them. Without Chan and Sera, the only person she had left to convince that she was someone else was herself. Everyone already had their minds up before they met her.

As long as she knew what she believed, she would make it through this.

A horn sounded in the distance, and Arika squinted against the flash of sun on metal. The envoy. Her escort for the remainder of her time on Mwyr, however long it would be.

Cairo hesitated as he watched the Church representatives approach. “Chin up, Goddess,” he said, and he nudged his horse in the sides. “Your people are here for you.”

Arika couldn’t decide what exactly he meant by that.