Epilogue—Monastery at Stonewell

 

Veressa leaned forward in her saddle and flipped back her green hood to get a better look at the monastery. Though it was anything but what she’d expected, the sight still made her shiver with excitement. The cloister was rugged and old, with walls constructed of thick oak logs aligned vertically and sharpened to points at the top. Its single stone building, capped with a bell tower, made it appear more like a remote outpost near the Borderlands than a secluded fortress deep in the Griffinrock forest, a mere eighty miles south of Graystone. A splattering of winter’s first snow covered the grounds outside the gate that appeared near the rutted road they had taken from nearby Stonewell Castle. A handful of people gathered near the gate waited patiently.

“I cannot believe you are going through with this, Veressa,” Annabelle admonished, for what little good it would do. “But then again, you’ve never listened to my advice when you get some crazy notion stuck in that dense head of yours.” In the silence that followed, the Ranger chewed on her lip and fidgeted with the reins. “You were the only one successfully holding back the tide of war. With your aunt as queen, the War Council is moving quickly in planning their invasion. And this is when you choose to stick your head in the sand?”

Veressa furrowed her brow, eyes narrowing at Annabelle, who just two days prior, had completed her grandmaster studies in a near-record thirty days, only to appear at Graystone to discover Mariette had assumed the throne. And since then, Annabelle had been unrelenting in telling Veressa just what she thought of her decision to step aside. “I would not call my efforts to stem the push for war a success. I was merely delaying the inevitable. You know that. Father used to say, ‘If you can’t lead, get out of the way so someone else can.’” She crossed her forearms over the saddle horn. “And I am not sticking my head anywhere it doesn’t belong. Must I remind you of my dream vision?”

On the day Veressa had bonded with Antilles, she’d fallen and struck her head. In her unconscious state, the Djinn Ourea came to her. I am Ourea, vessel and spirit bearer of Earth elemental. Everything you hold dear is but desert sand, Veressa. Soon you must choose among many difficult paths. Some would bring you joy, but only at great sorrow to your world. Others you would take alone, bringing great sacrifice and suffering to those you hold dear, but the choice would heal your world from seeds of travesty yet to be sown. You must prepare for the journey ahead. Since then, Veressa had struggled to make sense of the Djinn’s words. In time, all will be clear, the voice had said. She had to believe she was making the right choices.

“I could also remind you,” Veressa went on, “that you were the one who said I had been chosen to play a vital role in the future of the realms.”

“I would have thought by ‘vital role’ you knew I meant as Queen of Griffinrock. Maybe I should have been more specific,” Annabelle grumbled. “I suppose delaying the proclamation for war did have some effect. No general worth his weight in hay would want an army stranded on the Dristonian plains during the dead of winter. Queen Mariette cannot begin the invasion of the Anarchic Lands until spring.”

Veressa felt compelled to remind Annabelle about a key factor in her decision to secede the throne. “Don’t forget: Conner was right. Shazarack had returned from the dead. And if I hadn’t done what was necessary to set him free, Conner wouldn’t have stopped him,” she added with pride. Just saying her Champion’s name made her heart ache. She wondered if she would ever see him again. Unfortunately, neither his heroism nor her pleas had moved Mariette to rescind his banishment. “Think where we might be if I had not stepped aside.”

“Okay, Veressa.” Annabelle tilted her head toward the monastery. “But are you sure this is what you want?”

Veressa chewed on her lip for a moment, then peered down at Antilles. The large white cat perked his ears forward and took a step, then looked up at her. Veressa sensed the flow of feelings from her bond, ones she had never sensed before—anticipation and excitement. And she recalled other words Ourea had said to her. I am to send you my young brother Antilles so that he may bring you strength and aid you along your path. Veressa did not answer Annabelle.

“You do realize that once you enter those gates, your life will no longer be yours. You will come out as a Ranger student rank. You could be commissioned as an officer in the Queen’s Defenders, doing your aunt’s bidding. Or maybe you’ll be commanding a platoon of archers on the front lines of this war. Or an officer in the Elvenstein royal guard, protecting one of King Friedrick’s darling princes.”

Veressa shot flaming arrows at Annabelle with her eyes. “When has my life ever been my own, Annabelle?”

Still, Veressa refused to keep secrets from her best friend, the woman she thought of as her sister and closest confidant. “There is something I did not tell you about my trip to Elvenstein. King Friedrick said something that actually helped guide my decision.”

Annabelle took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. “Anytime you consider using something that bumbling old fool says, you should have your head examined. What did old King Friedrick say?”

“That one must choose between royalty and the orders, that one cannot do both.”

Annabelle blinked. “Maybe there is something left in that old misogynist after all.”

Veressa’s stomach churned over the idea that her choices always seemed to be between only two options. “Enough on that. How about sharing some secrets about what I can expect inside?”

Annabelle tilted her head forward and furrowed her brow at Veressa, lips pressed tight.

Veressa chortled at the Ranger’s unusual silence. “No harm trying.”

“Just remember what I taught you. Don’t let your self-confidence get in the way of listening, and you will do fine. Just keep in mind that a Ranger’s strength is not just about how to use elementals. It is about deception, patience, stealth, and cunning. And do not trust everything you see and hear.”

“Okay.” Veressa drew the word out slowly. “That sounds ominous.”

“And do not mention your dream vision to anyone. Most would write it off as the rantings of royalty attempting to get attention, or some such nonsense. But a few might take notice and consider its validity. In either case, it does you no justice.”

“I know better than to draw attention to myself.”

Annabelle huffed. “If that is true, then you have changed.”

The deep sound of an iron bell preceded the gate swinging wide. The half dozen people waiting outside filed in.

Annabelle drew her shoulders back and nodded proudly at Veressa. “Well, off with you, then.”

Veressa heeled Toran forward and cantered the last hundred paces to the monastery. Already, she could sense this was not just going to be a new chapter in her life. She was starting a whole new story.