Esamne looked around the crowded banquet room, her nerves jumping with every frightened face surrounding her. She couldn't believe she had been so foolish. It made sense that the Arch Dukes were on to her plans with the royal guard and had amassed their own army of Pecu cultists. She could barely think as the shrill screams of those hit by the magical attacks echoed through the hall. If Novem hadn't seen what was coming, an attack would have hit her square in the chest.
She looked at the afflicted, writhing in pain as servants tried to soothe their burns with damp clothes. Novem explained it would be of no use. The only way to heal it was with the help of a priest or priestess and those were in short supply. Instead, these people would likely die long, agonizing deaths as the magic ate its way through their bodies and souls. Blinking away tears, she saw the brave, young guard who so believed in her cause twisting in torment. He had been so courageous, mostly responsible for getting all of these people to safety in this room.
Of course, their security was temporary. The only reason the doors hadn't come down was that the Arch Dukes and their army were preoccupied with the Cuvanos fighters outside fighting them. She could only imagine how terrifying that battle must be. Esamne shook her head, trying not to think about the dismal nature of their situation. She was their Queen, and she needed to behave like one right now. She could at least do that for the people in this room.
"What do I do?" she asked Novem, pressed against him, her hands squeezing his in desperation. "I don't know how to make this less awful."
"You should talk to them," he answered. "They're waiting for inspiration. You're the person they want on the throne. Give them some hope that, when this is over, their lives will improve."
"Will they?" Esamne asked, looking at those crying over the dying bodies and taking in the sight of the shell-shocked. "Life wasn't bad for them before."
"Maybe you're thinking of the wrong people. Remember why you took this risk."
Esamne took another look around the room. This time, she looked beyond the tragedy unfolding before them. She saw the gaunt faces of the servants, her servants. Even here at The Capitol, where food was so plentiful the wealthy wasted it, the majority of her people were starving. She saw the guards intent on securing all points of entry and remembered that they were human. The Arch Dukes had forced them to fight against their neighbors, while those they loved died on the altar of the Arch Dukes' greed.
Scanning the room, Esamne locked eyes with Immelda and gasped with relief. Without even realizing it, she'd let go of Novem's hands and fled to her dearest friend. Immelda gave up so much for her friend, but she knew it was more than that. It had been more for Lord Pleffort as well. They wanted a better Pescel, a better Telverin. She hoped she would be able to provide that for Immelda and honor the deceased squire's memory. Abandoning her courtly manners, the Queen threw her arms wildly around her friend's shoulders, squeezing her tightly.
"Immelda," she sobbed, "I was so worried you were out there. I didn't see you come in with us."
"I'm fine," Immelda whispered back, embracing her friend. "I was one of the last in. I had to rescue one person they might not have thought of."
"Who?" Esamne asked, pulling away from her friend.
Immelda bit her bottom lip. Her eyes couldn't quite meet Esamne's, which gave the queen great concern.
"Who, Immelda?" Esamne prodded, but Immelda didn't need to answer. She caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. Farek's former assistant, Pekor, hid in a dark corner of the room, trembling as much as he stuttered. "Him!"
"He's not who you think he is," Immelda said, defending herself. "He was forced into an impossible situation. He had to serve Farek to avoid being murdered, and then he had to serve the Arch Dukes to avoid being executed as a traitor. Besides, he could be useful to us."
"How could that sniveling rat be any use to us?" Esamne hissed under her breath.
"He is not a sniveling rat," Immelda replied. "He's actually a brilliant man, and he knows a lot more than he let on to the Arch Dukes in order to prevent even more deaths. He has access to a great deal of information about the Embodiment of the Goddess Winds."
"That again?" Esamne retorted with a bitter chuckle. "I didn't expect such superstition from you."
"It's not superstition, Esamne," Immelda said and breathed one long exhale. "I've seen it for myself."
"What are you talking about?" Esamne asked, genuinely confused as to who her friend had become.
"The Embodiment of the Goddess Winds can channel their powers, including the power of storms," Immelda answered. "I saw it for myself. I didn't realize who she was or what was happening, but now I know better."
"You are not making any sense," Esamne reacted, shaking her head.
"Novem's sister, Eya. I hid her as my maid. I didn't know at first. We grew close, and then…Esamne, she lifted from the ground, grew silvery all over. Then, a terrible storm came out of nowhere. She'd called it."
"Immelda," Esamne said and sighed, placing a calm hand on her friend's shoulder. "I think you were perhaps seeing things. Sometimes, a sudden storm shows up. That's not unusual in Pescel."
"You don't understand," Immelda replied, exasperated. "This was unlike any storm I've ever seen."
"I feel like if Novem's sister could call on storms, I would have heard something about it," Esamne scoffed, looking back at her husband, who watched her nervously from across the room.
"Are you sure about that? How much has he told you about the Kandumes or his sister?"
"He would never lie to me," Esamne responded, becoming irritated.
"I agree," Immelda said, nodding. "However, he might have felt that you wouldn't believe him if he did tell you. Why don't you try asking him?"
"I will," Esamne said, spinning around to return to his side. "If only to shove these foolish thoughts out of your head."
Picking up her heels, she stormed over to her husband, who seemed even more confused and concerned than before. The closer she got, the more obvious it became to him that her mood had shifted from despair to rage. Before he could figure out what he could have done, she was whispering in his ear.
"Is there anything you need to tell me about your sister?" she asked, and, for a second, Novem didn't know what she was implying. Then, he thought about the only thing his wife might find unusual about Eya.
"Do you mean her magic?" Novem asked hesitantly.
"Magic?" Esamne asked, her eyes growing frightened. "Like the cultists outside?"
"No," Novem answered, shaking his head. "It's bizarre. She can make these storms happen, and I think maybe change the weather in general."
"What?" Esamne's mouth hung open. "You never thought to tell me about that?"
Novem didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure why he hadn't told her. They'd simply never discussed the fighting against Pescel. It was an uncomfortable topic. People waving the flag of the kingdom that was her birthright had given him scars he would carry for a lifetime. His parents and brothers were dead and gone forever because of the war between their countries. Eya's abilities were so interwoven with the horrifying battles that took place. To him, that was almost a different person, not his kid sister at all.
Novem never got a chance to answer. The doors and walls shook, and there was a loud boom that vibrated through every cell in that room. Esamne threw herself against Novem's chest.
"You have to say something, Esamne," Novem whispered into her ear. "This may be your only chance to be their true Queen."
Esamne looked up into his teary eyes and understood. He wasn't calling on her to make a speech for the others' sake in this room. He wanted her to achieve her dream, even if these were their last moments together. All at once, she felt guilty for having fought with him and questioned his loyalty for even a second. She took some calming breaths and climbed up onto the one table big enough to hold her weight standing, but not occupied by an injured body. Another loud boom rattled around them, and the shaking caused her to lose her balance a little, but she remained upright.
"My dear, Pesceleans," she started, an emotional hitch in her throat, "I am so grateful that you have chosen me to lead you. I wish that we were not experiencing such a dark moment now, but we must hope that dawn will break on a better day, free from the restraints placed on us by the power-hungry. If those doors open, we must be prepared to fight whatever approaches us. If we don't fight, what was the point of any of this? We can be the Pescel we've always longed for in our hearts. It may be for a moment, or it may be forever, but let's be who I've always known we are.
“We are strong, smart, and, most of all, compassionate. We will be that to our dying breaths. Pick up whatever you can and prepare to fight so that we can bring a future with no worries of where your next bite of food will come from or who holds the blade that will stab you in the back. It's time to stop living in fear!"
No one cheered for their Queen. Their throats were too raw from screaming and crying. Yet, their faces held a new resolve. She could see their faith in her, and a sad smile crossed her face as she saw them grabbing anything that remotely looked like a weapon, from kitchen knives to flag poles. She got off the table and grabbed a chair leg that Novem passed to her. He held his sword upright.
Another loud boom shook the room, but the only screaming came from those dying on the tables. Everyone else stood ready for the attack.
"I love you, Novem," Esamne whispered to her husband, standing beside him and facing the nearest entrance.
"I love you, too," Novem replied. "Listen, about Eya—"
"Forget it," Esamne interrupted. "You don't need to prove your intentions to me. Not after all you've done to be here with me. Not here in this moment that might be our last."
At that moment, the doors flew open, not from anyone battering them, but from a strong gale bursting them inward. Novem grabbed onto Esamne as they fell backward onto a screaming nobleman, suffering from a magical attack. The wind continued to rush into the room, terrorizing and confusing every soul attempting to get back onto their feet. Novem didn't try to get upright but positioned himself and Esamne behind an overturned table. He saw the questions floating all over her face, and the answer to all of them entered his mind out of nowhere.
"Eya!" he cried out.
The day started off so well for Eya. She woke up for the first time in months without any discomfort, to find Daijah looking at her with utter devotion. She had an excellent breakfast. The tavern's mistress insisted on giving Eya a proper dress instead of letting her leave in the charred and tattered leather armor she had arrived in the previous night. It hadn't been entirely altruistic, since she'd held her hand out to Terald after making the offer, but Eya was still grateful. The fabric was somewhat itchy, but it was amazing how much real clothing could help you recover your sense of humanity.
The closer they got to The Capitol, the more familiar Pescel became to Eya. Their escape from the Kandumes became more and more real. Soon, she would see her brother, her last surviving family member. She would have new allies. She would be able to start her plans to reclaim her country, rain vengeance down on those who wronged her, and free the Goddess Winds. Then, the healing could begin, and she could marry Daijah. For once, everything was going her way.
Then, she saw it. At first, she thought she was asleep and having a nightmare. Daijah told her that sometimes people have bad dreams or even imagine scary things are happening that remind them of the wars they left behind. Yet, it grew apparent that it wasn't in her head as they drew closer, and the rest of the group also took notice.
In the distance stood The Palace. Surrounding it was the biggest magical barrier any of them had ever set eyes on before. Thousands upon thousands of Cuvanos swarmed around the dome, trying futilely to penetrate it with even their best attacks. Panic rose in Eya as she tried to piece together what was happening. Why were the Cuvanos attacking The Palace? Was her brother inside? Was he alive? She turned to look at Rhin.
"Why would the Cuvanos attack The Palace?" she asked, hoping he could say anything that would make her feel better.
"I can think of no reason," he answered, shaking his head. "They have no quarrel with Queen Esamne, just Malphesent, and he's gone."
Eya turned her face back to look out the carriage window just in time to see a familiar face riding by. Hope surged through her as she banged on the side of the carriage and cried out to get the attention of the young man galloping on his steed towards the other Cuvanos. It was the chieftain's son who once saved her from drowning in her own depression and showed her that life could be joyful again.
"Sember!" she shouted as loud as she could. "Sember!"
The Cuvanos rider stopped short and turned to look at Eya in the carriage. Sember's eyes narrowed as if he couldn't quite figure out why the woman screaming at him seemed recognizable, yet not. Then his eyes grew wide, and a giant smile brightened his face. He rode to the carriage, which stopped with a lurch when it was within range of conversation.
"Ziya!" he cried out, reaching one hand out to touch her scarred cheek. “My beautiful spitfire! What are you doing here? What happened to your cheek? Did that bastard merchant do this to you?"
Rhin coughed uncomfortably in the carriage.
Eya laughed and shook her head. She gently patted Sember's hand and removed it from her cheek. She didn't want Daijah sensing the intimacy she once shared with this young Cuvanos man. "The man that did this to me is dead now," she answered.
"By your hand?" Sember asked and, when she nodded, he smiled and added, "That's my Ziya."
"Well, actually," Eya started, "the truth is that isn't my name."
“When we met, I told you that I didn’t know your real name, but you’ll always be my Ziya to me,” Sember replied with the charming rakishness she once felt so wildly attractive. “Still, you have me curious now.”
"I will tell you if you can answer one thing for me," Eya responded, knowing it might not be safe to say anything more about her true identity, shared history, or not.
"I will do my best," Sember replied, looking somewhat worried and noticing the motley crew of passengers crowding the carriage with her for the first time.
"What are the Cuvanos doing up there? Why are they attacking The Palace?"
"That's two questions, but I'll allow it," Sember said, looking serious now. "Queen Esamne called on us to help her claim her throne. The Arch Dukes have put up some damnable barricade we can't get through, and they have her trapped inside. We can't figure out how to save her."
"You're here to save Queen Esamne from the Arch Dukes?" Eya asked.
"Yes," Sember answered, nodding. "Even though she wed Prince Novem of Hicares, the Arch Dukes no longer care that she's married. They want to keep throwing bodies into this war. We are here to help stop it."
"I've never been so relieved to be surprised by the Cuvanos," Eya said with a grateful sigh.
"I've given you several answers. Where's yours?"
"Yes, that," Eya responded. "I am Princess Eya. Queen Eya now, I suppose. I'm Prince Novem's sister. I escaped the man who killed our brothers to be here with him."
“You’re Little Eya?!” Sember responded, his eyes wide and astonished.
Eya nodded, deciding not to argue about the nickname she hated so much.
"I knew you were too special to be just my Ziya," he said, shaking his head. "I wish I had better news for you, but it looks like your brother might die in there with Queen Esamne right now."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Eya said, opening the carriage door. "How close can you get me to the barrier?"
"Eya!" Daijah called out, grabbing her. "It's not safe. I can see magical attacks from here."
"Then, it's a good thing we have a healer. I have to go do this, Daijah. You know that."
Eya gave his hand a squeeze and jumped on the back of Sember's horse. The two went flying into the fray. As they got closer, she could see that Daijah was correct. There were magical attacks, though not as much as she had seen in several battles prior. It seemed clear to Eya that they sent their best mages to Hicares, and these attacks were only doing so well here because no one knew how to fight it yet. Still, she saw there were three layers of gigantic magical barriers surrounding The Palace. This was going to take a great deal out of her.
Eya found a good place to stage herself and pointed it out to Sember. She hopped off the back of his horse and asked that he keep anyone away while she did what she had to do. Sember knew then that she was royalty, but he still didn't know what she was capable of outside of her skills with a sword and a bow. It bothered him to allow a woman into battle, but he still granted her request. As he tied his horse up and readied his sword and bow to defend her if necessary, she called on that storm, so familiar to her soul and body now.
It came surprisingly swift this time, and, for the first time, Eya didn't feel a wave of fear wash over her. She no longer needed the trauma of her past to channel the ominous clouds, gusts, and lightning. The confidence and purpose Shoya blessed her with gave her the ability to command the storm with nothing but intention. Straight up into the air, she shot like a bird taking flight. Her hair waved frenetically around her, and her eyes cast silver beams over the battle scene below her.
With a flick of her wrist, a lightning bolt stronger than any she had ever called on before blasted with its full force, shattering the first layer. Sember almost stumbled to the ground from the shaking and his own shock. Then, he watched her do it a second time, and a third, leaving the Pecu cultists and the Arch Dukes entirely vulnerable for the Cuvanos, who swooped in to bring slaughter to their enemy.
Eya could no longer wait for the others to finish her fighting. She needed to find out if her brother, the one family member left to her, was still alive somewhere within The Palace. With a wave of her arm, a zephyr forced the castle's entrance open, and Eya descended to enter its doors. Anyone approaching her with intent to harm got knocked back without her making a single effort. She crackled and sparked with the storm still, creating her own personal force field.
Eya wandered The Palace room by room, sending blast after blast of wind to open them until she saw the doors to the banquet room on the far end of one hallway. She sent her strongest gale yet in that direction and strode to it, hearing the shrill screams of magical attack victims within.
When she entered, she saw nothing but chaos before her. She couldn't stop the wind. Her mind was so upturned at the idea that she might have already lost her brother. Then, in the distance, she spotted Immelda, pinned by the wind against a wall. Their eyes locked and Eya became filled with memories of their bond. In a blink, Eya realized she was doing the very thing she feared she would do for half a year. She was endangering the life of someone she loved because she lost control.
Placing her palm against the cold stone of The Palace, Eya steadied herself and sought out any sign that some of Nakta's children might be nearby. Though she was nowhere near touching the soil outside, Nakta's daughters called back to her anyway. They reminded her that all of the forests, mountains, and terrain belonged to Nakta. She would never be without their aid. Eya asked for just a sliver of calm, just enough to stop the wind and save the people inside this room. It was nearly immediate. It felt like someone tossed a glass of cold water onto her face. The wind stopped, her hair drifted downward, and her eyes returned to their usual grey-green.
At once, fatigue claimed her, which wasn't surprising, given that she had never done anything quite so extraordinary with her powers before. She slumped to the ground, seeing Novem rush to her side, just in time to fade into blackness once again. This time, the abyss remained just that, with no impromptu trips to the astral plane.
It was late in the night when Eya woke. No one sat beside her soft and lavish bed. She looked over her body to see she was wearing a silk nightgown, and her skin smelled like jasmine oil. If Eya hadn't been so worried about where her brother was and how her friends were faring, she probably would have spent a moment appreciating how much better it was to live the life of royalty than as a soldier. She flung back the quilt covering her and walked out of her room.
Despite the dark hour, the hallways buzzed with light and activity. It had been an eventful day, and people were still sorting everything out.
Servants went about cleaning up and removing damaged furniture.
Guards patrolled, making sure no mages lurked about any dark corners.
Courtiers roamed around with tired, shuffling feet, looking for their friends and family.
For a moment, Eya observed all of this while she got her bearings. It didn't last long, however. Eya had made quite an entrance earlier that day, and now everyone knew her face. All eyes widened, and most backed away immediately. She didn't have time to care about their reactions. She had people to find.
"Guard," she croaked, her voice out of practice from her long, deep sleep. "Where is my brother? Where is Prince Novem?"
"King Novem is in the throne room," the guard answered, dropping to one knee in a respectful bow. "Shall I take you to him, Queen Eyanisade?"
It was the first time Eya had heard a stranger call her that, and it threw her off guard somewhat. It occurred to her that he would only know this if her friends had survived. She nodded and took the guard's arm.
As they walked the hallways, Eya looked at the faces passing by. At first, she thought they were scared of her, but then she noticed the curtsies and bows. She heard the whispers of gratitude. Here and there, she picked up on what they called her. It wasn't Queen Eyanisade or Little Eya. They called her the Storm Bringer because they were in awe of her. She was their savior. They didn't even know half of what she could do yet.
Eya and her escort arrived at the doors to the throne room, where two guards opened it right away. They knew what she was here for without needing a single word from her lips. The doors gave a loud whistle and creak, causing every head on the other side to turn toward Eya at the same time.
Cefa, Daijah, Rhin, and Sember huddled together on the far left, looking as though they had been in the middle of a serious discussion.
Terald and Hat held hands, facing Immelda, on the far right.
Novem stood in the center; his body turned towards a beautiful red-haired woman sitting on the throne with an ornate crown on her head.
Everyone looked gaunt from exhaustion. Yet, as soon as Novem saw his sister, he ran as quick as his feet could take him. Before the doors were even open all the way, his arms wrapped around his sister. Eya grabbed him back just as tight. Fat tears rolled down her eyes the moment she heard him crying into her curls.
"You're awake," he whispered. "I was so scared I would lose you, too."
"Not as scared as I was when I saw The Palace," she whispered back.
Novem reluctantly let go of her and took a deep breath. He turned to look at the woman Eya knew must be Queen Esamne, motioning for her to join them. His wife put a pleasant smile on her face, but it didn't reach her eyes. Eya could only imagine how tense she must be feeling in this situation. This wasn't exactly the best way for two queens to meet. When Esamne reached them, she took Novem's hand at once.
"Queen Eyanisade," Novem said in such a formal way that Eya nearly giggled, "please meet my wife, Queen Esamne."
"I am so happy to meet you," Esamne said. "I can't thank you enough for—"
Eya didn't let her finish. She threw her arms around the much taller woman, shocking her with exuberant affection. Even Eya didn't know what came over her. She simply felt overwhelmed by her desire to hold this woman who was now her sister.
"You saved my brother!" Eya said, her weeping eyes at odds with her shining smile. "You saved him, and you love him. For that, I will always love you."
"You saved us back," Esamne replied, her smile more genuine than it had been previously. "If you hadn't shown up, well…I don't want to imagine how awful things would have been."
Immelda walked up to the two women. Her lips quivered, as if they didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“You’re back,” she said, grabbing one of Eya’s hands. Then she turned to Esamne and grabbed one of hers. “Eya’s back, and you’re both safe. That’s all in the world I could ever hope for since…”
Immelda’s voice croaked off the last word and her eyes glassed over.
“Immelda?” Eya asked. What had come over beloved friend she never hoped to see again?
Esamne stroked Immelda’s back. “Regent Malphesent murdered Lord Pleffort.”
“Oh, Immelda,” Eya said and kissed her friends cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
Immelda shook her head. “You should never feel sorry about that monster. You’re back, and now we’re going to make him pay for every life lost to his ambitions.”
“This calls for wine!” Hat called out from across the room, raising a bottle of wine, and disrupting the somber moment passing between the three women. “We must drink to new Queens and new alliances!”
Eya's rest caused her to miss Esamne's hastened coronation, which occurred as soon as the battle ended. However, everyone was quick to fill her in on the details.
Sember talked a good game about how heroic the Cuvanos had been against the Arch Dukes and their army.
Eya looked up from her comfy spot nestled in the crook of Daijah’s arm to see him rolling his eyes, and it took a great deal of effort not to laugh aloud. Apparently, Sember was the chieftain of his clan now. His father passed away the previous Winter, not too long after Eya left them.
Cefa had healed the injured swiftly. It turned out that she was a much faster spell writer after adequate meals and a decent rest in a real bed.
Daijah took out several mages, himself, using the maneuvers he learned over time to avoid getting blasted with a magical attack.
Immelda, Terald, and Hat helped the courtiers sneak away from the fighting. Terald seemed somewhat subdued with his version of the story, but Eya picked up some anger between him and Immelda over one nobleman named Pekor.
It was well after midnight by the time they were all done catching up. Eya wanted to join Daijah in his room, but Novem reminded her that she was the Queen of Hicares and staying as a royal guest at The Palace now. She couldn't give in to her impulses. She had an image to keep up for the good of their country and Telverin. Instead, Cefa joined Eya in her room that night, wanting to make sure that the young woman rested well.
"Cefa," Eya said, snuggling into the soft blankets, as the older woman climbed in next to her, "thank you for being by my side all this time."
"My dear," Cefa replied with a smile, "you've become like a daughter to me. I couldn't imagine leaving you."
"Do you truly mean it?" Eya asked, happy tears filling her eyes yet again that night.
"Don't cry, child," Cefa shushed. "Everything is going to be fine."
"We can't know that for certain," Eya said and exhaled, but she also gave her mentor a warm smile.
Cefa drew a little sleep spell on the wall above Eya's head, causing the young woman to drift into sweet, whimsical dreams. It would last until the morning light touched her face. This was a spell Cefa created hundreds of years ago when she needed her mortal children to get rest. She remembered them. They weren't Pecu's, but a Hicarean shepherd's, born long after Cefa realized that she had to make a humanlike life for herself. The memories were bittersweet because the children aged as quick as all humans do, and Cefa looked younger than they did after a few decades. She had to leave them behind, watching them from a distance, even attending their funerals only with the aid of a disguise.
When the last grandchild died, she returned to Pescel. She couldn't tolerate the deaths of her progeny anymore. As a woman wandering the shores of Pescel, it wasn't easy to keep track of her lineage in Hicares. Fortunately, her oldest child had become one of the richest landowners in Hicares. So, she caught snippets here and there over the years from Hicarean sailors. His line had done well for themselves, rising from the ranks of shepherds to wool merchants. Then, one day, they ascended from that to royalty, with one of her descendants marrying King Simnaud.
Yes, Eya was like her daughter, but more like her granddaughter after many, many generations. She still looked like she had a hint of Nakta in her, though.
"Must be your father's side," Cefa whispered, kissing Eya on the forehead and falling asleep herself, dreams of tomorrow's peace filling her head.
The night hummed with contentment. For now, there would be happiness.