Demetria was doing something in the kitchen when Amara finally made it back home. After stepping inside, she quickly shed her dirty shoes beside the door, and could feel her mother’s eyes on her while doing so. Mattias let out a disgruntled squawk on Amara's shoulder as she allowed her shoes to land noisily on the floor.
“What happened?” Demetria asked with concern.
For reasons Amara had never been able to explain, her mother could be preternaturally perceptive, at times. It wasn’t terribly surprising that she could already tell something had gone wrong, but after everything that’d just happened Amara simply didn’t feel ready to talk. She felt exhausted on every possible level.
“I’ll tell you later mom,” she replied wearily. “I’m gonna take a nap.”
“Okay honey,” Demetria said, pausing. “Did you get started on the compost, at least?”
“Yes,” Amara called out while ascending the stairs, and left it at that.
Mattias immediately flew off her shoulder and landed on the windowsill once she entered her room. She frowned at him but said nothing as she crossed to the window, opening it just enough to let him out. He flew off the moment he could fit under it, ascending quickly to the north.
A quiet scoff left Amara as she watched him fly away. Random things could set him off so easily. Over the years she’d tried several times to get him to sleep in her room, but had never succeeded. She suspected he’d made a nest in the forest somewhere off to the north-east. It would be very interesting to see where exactly his roost was, but something told her he wouldn’t appreciate it if she showed up uninvited.
She turned away from the window and quickly changed into her night clothes, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the compost pit which still lingered on her. A warm bath would definitely be in order once she woke up. After closing the blinds on her window to shut out the afternoon sun, she threw back the covers on her bed and crawled inside, falling asleep within moments.
A tremendous pounding from somewhere nearby woke Amara from a dreamless sleep. Through the cracks in the blinds she could see that the sun had set, meaning she’d been asleep for at least six hours. She thought immediately of her mother working in the compost pit alone all day, and a huge wave of guilt washed over her. She flung off the covers and jumped out of bed, only to freeze when the pounding sounded once again.
A man’s angered voice rose from beneath her window. She couldn’t quite make out what was said, but the tone in the voice was troubling. Amara quietly stepped over to the window, moving the blinds aside to get a look at whoever was at their front door. There was an unusual amount of light coming from the direction of the village square, people moving about holding lanterns, or perhaps torches.
“We’re not asking, woman,” said a gruff-sounding man. His voice sounded a bit muffled, for some reason.
Amara pressed her face to the window’s glass, trying to get a look at the porch below, and had to suppress a gasp. Six men wearing bulky metal armor and black capes stood at their front door, all holding lit torches in their off hands. She’d never seen anyone wearing armor before—did anyone in the village even own any?—and was shocked at just how large it made the men seem. It was curved and rounded in odd-seeming places, exposing almost nothing of the person beneath. Their helmets all had a small rectangular band across the eyes which was open to the free air, and it looked to be the only area on them that wasn’t concealed by armor. It would’ve been alarming to see a single person encased in curving silverish metal from head to toe standing at their front door, let alone an entire group.
After taking a few moments to study them, she realized with shock that they also had sheathed swords strapped to belts around their waists, the realization of which caused a sudden blossom of fear within her. The men were strangers, their armor made that abundantly clear, but the mere fact of their having weapons seemed almost like an admission of evil intentions. No one in the village had ever worn a sword, at least not that she’d seen.
She heard her mother say something from the other side of the door, but couldn’t quite make it out.
“Break it down,” said the same man from before.
One of the other men took a step backward, then lifted his leg in a powerful kick aimed at the front door. It practically exploded, causing dust and small splinters to fly in a wide arc past him.
“Mom!” Amara instantly shouted.
She rushed out of the room, and made it to the top of the stairs just in time to see one of the men violently knocking her mother to the ground. A pained grunt left Demetria the moment the man battered her, which left Amara frozen with shock. She’d never heard her mother make that sound before.
The other men entered the house after her mother’s assailant, and before long their attention turned to Amara.
“Come down here, girl,” one of the men barked up at her with menace. The skin of his face beneath the helmet was pale, his eyes green and glimmering in the light of the torches.
Fear caused her to remain frozen, and she watched as the same man stomped up the stairs towards her. Once in range he reached out with his free hand and locked it around her wrist. His grip was frighteningly strong, and she found herself meekly going along with him as he led her down the stairs.
“Knew she was lying,” said one of the other men.
“Take them,” the gruff-voiced man growled. “The rest of you—search the house.”
The man leading Amara gave an affirmative grunt. She watched as one of the other men reached down to unceremoniously pull her mother up to her feet.
“Let her go,” Demetria begged him. “Please! I’ll go in her place!”
“Shuddup,” came the man’s disinterested reply.
The men marched them out of the house, pulling them both by the wrists up the long slope towards the temple.
“What’s happening?” Amara whispered to Demetria, unable to hide her fright.
Demetria couldn’t voice a reply, and simply shook her head. Amara had never seen her mother look so afraid before.
Am I dreaming? Amara wondered. This doesn’t seem real.
The coolness and smooth texture of the grass beneath her bare feet seemed to imply that what was happening was real, but it was so unexpected and sudden that it was hard to accept as reality nonetheless. It felt like everything had been completely normal one second and then terrifyingly different the next.
“What do they want with us?” Amara whispered.
The man holding Amara’s wrist yanked her forward, causing a startled yelp to escape from her.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he said angrily. “Not gonna tell you again.”
They crested the slope, and Amara immediately saw more armored men herding people toward the temple. Little children, women and men alike were being led towards the temple—by soldiers, Amara finally realized. The armored men were soldiers. A small group of them were standing by the entrance to the temple, swords drawn and gleaming in the light of their torches.
Vaguely she began to recall the chief mentioning something that morning about a delegation arriving from Lucyra. But weren’t they coming to buy grain?
She heard shouting coming from the opposite end of the village, and was stunned to see the chief being dragged towards the temple by two soldiers. He was screaming and hollering, and as they converged on the temple Amara was able to make out some of his words.
“—give you anything you want! There’s no reason for this sort of thing! We’re no threat to you—”
One of the soldiers delivered a swift punch into the chief’s gut. He went silent, but began to struggle against them as they dragged him into the temple.
When they reached the temple’s entrance the soldiers shoved Amara and Demetria inside, turning away without sparing them another glance. There were dozens of people already standing between the pews, all looking terribly confused and frightened. Amara’s closest neighbors were there—the Stokes, the Auberjons, even a few families from the far side of the village. Quite a few were already clustered around the chief, offering him what little help they could while also bombarding him with questions.
“What’s going on, boss?!”
“Who are these men?!”
“Did they tell you what they want?”
The chief responded with a grimace and muted shake of his head, clutching his belly where he’d been struck. Seeing him that way finally brought home to Amara that she and everyone else were in immediate danger. She unconsciously reached out for her mother’s hand, and when they made eye contact Amara saw the same realization occurring in Demetria’s eyes.
Still holding hands, they watched as the soldiers brought more people to the temple. Caleb soon appeared with his family, followed shortly by Adin and Eylon with theirs. Caleb and Eylon had visible scrapes and bruises on their faces, and Amara realized that she’d forgotten all about the fight they’d been in that afternoon. Somehow it seemed like ages ago.
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Evander and his parents appeared next, escorted by a large group of soldiers, and their appearance caused a muted gasp of fear to rise from the villagers. Evander and Tye’s hands were wrapped in twine, and their clothing looked dirty and disheveled, as though they’d just been laying in the dirt.
The soldiers shoved the three of them inside, causing each of them to almost stumble. Amara released her mother’s hand and rushed over to Evander. There was a line of black stitches in his eyebrow from where he’d been punched by Caleb that afternoon, along with a few reddish scrapes here and there across his cheeks and nose.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“...No! What the fuck is going on?!”
“I have no idea. Here—”
Amara reached out for Evander's hands and began working to untie the twine. Beside them, Demetria and Aliza did the same for Tye.
The temple was almost full by the time they were finally freed. The rate of soldiers arriving with villagers slowed down to a trickle, and once it finally stopped a new group of soldiers appeared at the entrance. One of them was wearing a golden cape instead of black, and the way the other soldiers seemed to gravitate around him made it clear that he was the leader.
“You all stay inside,” he announced, then motioned to the soldiers flanking him to shut the temple’s doors.
Cries of alarm rang out from the villagers almost immediately, and several of the closest people rushed to the doors to try and stop them from being closed, including Evander, but they all failed to make it in time. They began to pound and kick against the doors, shouting a mixture of desperate and outraged pleas at the soldiers on the other side.
Through the windows, Amara watched as a ring of soldiers began to form around the temple. Other soldiers soon appeared from the darkness, carrying bales of hay. She was confused at first, but once they began to dump the bales up against the temple’s walls she realized what they intended, and a wave of black dread washed over her. Others in the congregation apparently arrived at the same conclusion, and one person made it known faster than she could.
“They’re going to burn the temple down!!!” a woman screamed.
The absolute panic that followed was something Amara had never seen before in her entire life. A rash of terrified screams rent the air, and people began to rush about madly. Many ran to join the group trying to open the temple’s doors, and their efforts to get it open turned frantic. With perfect desperation they began to assault the door, pulling fruitlessly at the door handles and trying their hardest to beat down the heavy wood with just their hands and feet. The frightened cries of children rang out beneath the colossal din of adults screaming and scrambling fruitlessly to escape. Some parents looked to be trying their best to find somewhere—anywhere—to hide their children, futile though it clearly was.
A few determined individuals approached the windows, punching and kicking at the glass. Soldiers soon appeared in them, plunging their swords into the gaps created by the villagers. Amara watched with shock and terror as Tye had his hand sliced open by a soldier’s sword, sending a small splash of blood across the floor which instantly disappeared beneath a stampede of feet.
More soldiers appeared at the windows, but instead of using their swords they began to drop their torches atop the hay bales. Within seconds, huge flames began to leap up from the bales, swiftly catching onto the temple’s wooden walls.
Black smoke began to fill the temple, causing a tremendous chorus of coughing that soon overtook the screams. Amara felt her mother's arms wrap around her, and instantly returned the embrace. There were tears in Demetria’s eyes, the sight of which made Amara aware of the tears in her own.
“I love you,” Demetria said.
There was a finality in her voice that somehow confirmed their fate far more than the smoke and screaming. They were about to die. Amara sobbed and pressed her head to her mother's shoulder.
She couldn’t understand why it was happening, and desperately wanted to live. But if there was anything she could do, anything at all, she wanted to at least save her mother. She would do anything she had to in that moment, make any sacrifice, but despite her willingness no options to save her mother existed—save, perhaps, for one.
God! Or the Sullied One, anyone, I don’t care! Please, give me the power to save her! Take my soul, or my body, my devotion—anything! I’ll do anything!!!
Smoke filled Amara’s lungs, and she began to cough heavily. She opened her eyes, and despite how badly the smoke stung them could see a heavy cloud filling up the temple’s rafters above them, thickening quickly. Within seconds her world was shrunk down by the swirling smoke, making it nearly impossible to see anything beyond her mother. After only a few more moments the pain became too much, and she shut her eyes again.
A thought then appeared in her head, one which instantly stuck out as not belonging to herself. It had a voice, one which implied an entire inner world which was completely foreign to hers. It was definitely masculine, threaded with might, and an overwhelming enmity she’d never once felt within her own depths.
Do you really want power?
She felt a sudden urge to look above her. When she opened her eyes again, a tunnel through the smoke had appeared to the rafters above. Mattias sat at the end of the tunnel, perched atop one of the high beams as black smoke swirled around him. His head was turned to the side in profile, and his black against black eye now had brilliant colors within it. It was a human iris, bright red and wreathed in pulsating rings of yellow flame. The eye locked with her gaze, piercing into her soul.
There was nothing birdlike about him anymore. Something dark and serene resided within the unnatural gaze which Amara had locked eyes with. She now knew beyond all doubt that he was not a bird—not truly—and never had been, but she didn’t care. She’d meant every single word of her prayer.
“Yes!!!” she screamed. “Give it to me!!!”
Mattias continued to stare at her, distant and unblinking. A pause arose that might’ve only lasted a few seconds, but which felt like an eternity. Amara flinched when the voice appeared in her head once again.
Your own should be sufficient, it said simply.
The tunnel through the smoke collapsed, and Mattias's eye disappeared. Amara released her mother and took a few steps through the smoke towards the closest window, not entirely sure where she was going or even what she was doing. Pure instinct pulled her forward. Demetria called out her name behind her as she navigated through the smoke, stepping over indistinguishable people laying prone on the floor.
The smoke and flames made it impossible to see much outside of the temple through the window, but she managed to catch glimpses of the soldiers. They hadn’t moved from the ring they’d formed.
What did he mean? she wondered. What can I possibly do to stop this?
It was then that something changed within the flames. A new feeling arose from them, one beyond their tremendous light and heat. She could feel them somehow, despite standing several feet away. There was no pain with the unseen contact—it was as though the fire was a natural part of her own body, almost like a limb she could manipulate at will.
She stared at the flames before her, willing them to diminish. They responded immediately, diminishing slowly at first, then very quickly as she pressed her will to it, dying off just as though they'd abruptly run out of fuel. Within only a few seconds, the flames were gone, replaced by small wisps of smoke. Fire still climbed the temple’s walls nearby, but the flames she’d chosen to focus on were now extinguished. The feeling of control disappeared with the flames, but when she looked at the rest of the fire spreading nearby she felt the same sense of bodily command within it.
Amara focused on the rest of the flames, extinguishing them even as they climbed the walls in search of fresh fuel. Without her they were even less than an animal, just a being of pure consumption, swallowing anything and everything within its reach. But with her, they could be something more. The flames were a tool in her grasp, fully capable of focused ambulation when their chaotic power met the organized direction of her mind.
Within moments all of the flames on the temple walls were gone. Smoke still filled the temple's air, but the cloud which had descended from the rafters was already diminishing, slipping out through small cracks in the walls and the holes bashed in the windows.
It didn’t seem like anyone else had realized what she’d just done. The air was still filled with a near-deafening chorus of choked coughing. Amara took a few more steps closer to the window, laying her hand against the charred wood which framed it. It was still warm to the touch.
Outside, the soldiers hadn’t moved from their positions. After staring at them for a few moments she realized that the flames emitted from their torches were at her command as well. She focused on one of the torches and unconsciously reached a hand out towards it, but rather than diminish it she tried to make it grow.
The torch exploded into a tremendous fireball like someone had thrown lantern oil onto it, and flames splashed across the soldier who’d been holding it. Amara willed the flames to keep growing, and the man began to scream in pain and terror as it spread all across his armor. He threw himself to the ground, attempting to roll in order to put it out. She could feel how quickly the flames weakened wherever he happened to press himself against the grass.
Other soldiers nearby moved to help him. Fear of losing the flames caused Amara to panic, and she willed them to expand again. The flames exploded outward once more, this time completely engulfing the soldier and the men who’d come to his aid. She looked to the other soldiers standing further away, most of whom were struck dumb by the scene playing out before them, and sent the flames after them. Tendrils of fire snaked through the grass towards her targets with shocking speed, and within seconds all the soldiers she could see had been engulfed in flames. They crumpled to the ground almost immediately once the flames reached them, melting rapidly into small, uneven shapes that no longer resembled men.
Suddenly, a tremendous noise blasted from somewhere behind her, a sound like heavy wooden planks being violently ripped apart. She turned with alarm to face it, and spotted light shining through the smoke from the direction of the temple’s doors. The smoke began to rapidly clear out, and after a few moments Amara caught a glimpse of Evander in the doorway, tearing apart what remained of the doors bare handed with complete ease. The strangeness of seeing him easily destroy the same doors he'd just been struggling against hardly registered with her after everything she’d just done.
With the doors now gone, those villagers who could still move began to rush outside. Evander turned from the doorway and ran back into the smoke, obviously intending to help those who couldn’t escape under their own power. Amara rushed outside with the others, deciding to try and protect them from the soldiers who’d been standing on the opposite side of the building—the ones she’d missed.
After taking in a huge gasp of smoke-free air she easily spotted the soldiers. They’d completely given up on their attempt to burn down the temple, and around a dozen or so were now fleeing to the east, running past the homes which stood closest to the temple. Amara turned towards the fire she’d used to kill the other soldiers and held her hand out to it. She willed it to move, and lines of flame erupted from the greater mass, snaking across the ground with an even greater speed than before.
Holding her hand up, she guided the fire towards the fleeing soldiers. The flames caught up to them in the blink of an eye, and within moments they were all rolling about on the ground, completely consumed in flames and screaming in perfect agony.
It took less than a minute for the screams to peter out. Once she was satisfied that all the soldiers were dead she snuffed out the flames just like before. White smoke rose from what little remained of the soldiers and their armor. They were now totally unrecognizable—the flames had turned them into nothing more than small piles of black ash and fused metal.
She’d hardly been aware of the villagers who were standing around her while she handled the remaining soldiers, but now that the threat was gone she was startled to realize everyone was staring directly at her. They’d all seen what she’d just done, how she’d lifted her hand and guided the flames.
“Destined,” whispers began to arise. “Destined!”
Evander then stepped out of the temple, carrying a weary-looking Demetria in his arms. He let her down onto her feet gently, and the whispers increased, taking on a more reverent tone.
“They’re Destined!”