Augusta was scared.

Oh by all the gods and devil's she was scared. She was more scared than she had ever been, ever even thought she could be.

Grandpa was dead. She was on a boat hired by the church, going northwards through Bryndon because Grandpa was dead. The Prophetess was adopting her because Grandpa was dead!

That wasn't even supposed to be possible, he had been guarding their family for tens of generations, a living ancestor who possessed one of them in each generation to act as an eternal protector. The legendary Silver Prince who was passed down their bloodline to guard the ancient city of Mirno, and to guard the rest of the continent from its undead inhabitants.

Grandpa was invincible, but his dad had killed him.

Well, with the help of those other two. She hadn’t seen that much of the fight, but she was pretty sure Grandpa said that… great-grandpa was being controlled or something like that, it had been hard to see or hear anything, Grandpa had needed full control to fight them all.

Even that hadn't been enough though, they still broke the mask.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Are you alright Augusta?" A clear voice asked next to her, and she turned to see Abbott, looking up at her with his big-eyed stare.

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

There was a reason that she had been Grandpa's successor, not any of her cousins spread across the world for their safety. There were hundreds of them, normal families getting along in the world. Most of them didn't even know that they were descendants of the Silver Prince, even the ones who did wouldn't know that he had died for months at least.

She was special, Grandpa had told her, she had a trait that only a few of his descendants inherited.

She was highly sensitive to magic, not just able to see its general shape, like a normal mage could with enough practice, but to feel its essence in someone. The feeling was overwhelming at times, all those different people and animals and rocks and stones and blades of grass, all with their own magics. As a baby she had cried a lot because it stung her eyes and ears and nose with senses she couldn't understand.

But with enough contact, she could drown out the noise, replacing it with a single being or object. The feeling was strongest up close, in physical contact, and she had grown up in the comforting blanket of her grandfather's magic. His presence was always there around her. Having it stripped away like it was… she was scared not just for her life, but for having that blanket torn away.

So she kept her grip tight on Abbott's hand.

His magic wasn't the same as Grandpa's, different talents, different schools. Grandpa had been the cool of the evening and the glow of candles. Deep and powerful and mysterious, but not to her. His mind had been all old libraries and ancient temples, and he had shown her all of them, read her the books, and taught her to read. They were gone now though, burned away except for the ones she kept in her own mind. She did keep a lot though. Augusta loved books most of all, she had never really talked to anyone except Grandpa, but she had taken to reading through volumes worth in a sort of accelerated time her Grandpa had provided her while he managed the affairs of the city garrison. Her grandfather’s magic had been all about weird effects like that.

Abbott was different. He felt like spring growth and primality, she didn't have all the right words or experiences to describe everything about him, nor was she able to enter his mindscape yet, but he still felt protective, if a bit confused. If she had to guess she'd say he was a sunny grove on a spring day, life all around while the sun played gently on your skin and the dew dripped from the leaves.

Grandpa said he might be related to one of the old gods, but that it would be impolite to ask.

Either way, he was an adequate blanket, holding his hand she still felt a bit of shelter from the world outside. Not like the prophetess.

No, if Abbott's light was the sunshine on your face in Springtime, the prophetess' light was like standing just a few feet away from the sun. Looking at her too close felt like Augusta's eyes were going to burn out. She held such a strong connection to light magic that it even bled over into her physical body when not in use, something Augusta hadn't even been aware could happen. If the prophetess actually somehow ended up dying Augusta wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't just manifest a new body out of pure energy, because it seemed like she already almost had one right under her skin. The towering woman was bluntly terrifying.

Augusta didn't think she was evil exactly, Grandpa certainly didn't but when she had asked, Grandpa had always been a little uncomfortable about the prophetess.

"A little too close to becoming the God she follows"

That’s what he had said about her, and meeting her in person, Augusta could see why.

“Augusta?” Abbot asked again, and she felt herself blush slightly as she realized she hadn’t answered his question.

“I’m fine… just still kind of scared.” She admitted with a bit of hesitation. “Everything is happening so fast… I’m going to end up ruling an actual city, with real people and not Skeletons, even Grandpa didn’t do that!” The task seemed kind of daunting now that she was thinking about it. But would people even want to move to her city? It was mostly just full of bones and stuff. “Aren’t you a bit scared too?” She knew that the boy next to her was as old as she was, even if he didn’t look like it, but it was hard to imagine that the tiny kid she was seeing with her eyes was the same person as the intensely powerful magic that poured off of him when she touched him.

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“I…” The boy’s face took on a weird look for a moment, then settled. “I’m not scared, but I am a little worried. I’d been planning to just wander Mirno as a traveling healer. And… well a lot of my friends aren’t coming up to Alma until the city is fully purged. This is a pretty big change, and I hope the prophetess knows what she’s doing…” Abbott looked a bit nervous. “I know she’s never had a husband or children, at least from what my dad told me, but uh… she seemed to really latch on to us… Do you think she’s ever actually had a ward before?”

Augusta blinked, that wasn’t something she had been thinking about at all! “Well she’s a thousand years old, isn’t she? She must have taken care of someone at some point.”

“I’m not sure, she’s kind of different from what dad told me she was like too, at least when-”

The boat suddenly shook and tilted slightly to the left, and Anne’s stern voice rang out through the boards of the boat.

“Your Holiness, please refrain from capsizing our transport.”

The Prophetess’s clear laughter rang out over the boat, as Augusta and Abbott perked up to glance out the wooden shutter of the cabin, up onto the deck.

“Sorry, sorry, I was hurrying to catch up with you all. Oh, and Taidana told me to give you her greetings. She seems to be doing well settling into the bishopric.”

“She’s been a Bishop for more than a decade, your Holiness.”

“Has it really been that long? Well, Time does fly I suppose.” The Prophetess laughed again. “How have my little gumdrops been doing?”

Augusta blanched at the nickname, and from the look of it, Anne was blanching too. “They’re… in the cabin your holiness, I think they’ve just been talking.”

“Oh?” The Prophetess said, striding over, and Augusta and Abbott shared a look. Hurriedly, they got back into their seats, Augusta even let go of his arm for a moment in her haste. Neither of them wanted to look like they were eavesdropping. With the rush of senses though she could literally see the Prophetess magic straight through the weak natural energy of the wooden boat, and she quickly grabbed hold of Abbott again as that solar corona threatened to blind her.

“Are you two getting along?” The Prophetess asked, still in full armor and reaching out to grab them in one of her bone-crushing hugs. Augusta found herself dragged into the armored grasp of the millennia-old woman, and held on to Abbott for dear life as she knew the contact would burn into her without him.

From the pained expression on Abbott’s face, he wasn’t particularly enjoying either grip.

“Ah, I’m sorry I had to run off like that, it’s just so rare I get down here to the southern part of the continent. I really need to check in with everyone when I do!” She must not have noticed both of her charges squirming because she just squeezed them tighter against her steel breastplate. “But I promise that if I have to run off for something else I’ll make sure to tell you in advance!”

As Abbott started to go slightly purple, Augusta sighed. “Could you uh… not hug us when you’re in armor, your holiness?”

“Huh?” The Prophetess asked, and from the way that the light in her helmet flashed, she must have blinked. “O-oh… oh fooey, but I didn’t bring any spare clothes south with me.” As she released them from her crushing grip, Augusta was gratified to see a thankful expression on Abbott’s face. Still, that last part bugged her.

“You crossed the entire continent in one suit of armor?” Augusta asked, scrunching her nose. “Isn’t that unhealthy?”

“The Armor is magic, so I don’t smell!” The Prophetess said as if that was something to be proud of. “And besides it’s easier this way, sometimes if I’m not paying attention I’ll go out to deal with something for a few years, and keeping track of clothes or a pack just gets in the way of things.” Then she paused, taking off her helmet to glance between the both of them conspiratorially. “Oh… um… just don’t spread that last part around ok. It’d be bad for my public image.”

Augusta frowned, she was about to say something about the smell not being the only problem, when the Prophetess smiled angelically and cut her off, patting both of them on the head with armored palms, mercifully more gently this time. “And neither of you two have to call me “Your Holiness” Especially not in private. You know I didn’t even make that title up myself, it was just what they called all the high priests of the old pantheon. I would have come up with something cooler!”

She was beginning to worry about what exactly the Prophetess thought was cool, and from the look on his face so was Abbott.

“What should we call you then?” Abbott asked, worry clearly starting to play over his face, what was he…

“Well… I think you should call me mom!” The Prophetess declared with a completely straight face, glowing eyes and all. “After all your my wards now!”

“I don’t think-” “That’s a bit-” Both Augusta and Abbott started simultaneously, before glancing at each other and coming to a mutual agreement. “No” “Nuh-uh.”

The Prophetess frowned, a pout coming over her lips. “Why not?”

“We’ve known you for like 2 days!” Abbott protested immediately, to which Augusta nodded vigorously. “And besides, you’re more like an aunt!”

The Prophetess grinned wide. “Ok, then call me Aunty!” She said cheerfully and reached out to drag them both into another hug, only to stop herself at the last second.

Augusta could see the conflict playing out on the older woman’s face. Not wanting to be crushed again, she thought fast. “Aunty, if you only bring armor with you, we’re not going to let you hug us.”

The Prophetess glowing eyes widened as she looked at her, and Augusta reflexively tightened her grip on Abbott’s wrist, letting the comforting feeling of his magic wash over her.

Finally, the Millenia old Prophetess, founder of the largest faith on the continent, vanquisher of demons, and queen of heroes hung her head in defeat.

“I… alright, I’ll wait for hugs until we get back to Alma.” She sighed, then she looked up and a smile lit up her face. “So, do you both want to hear some of my adventure stories?” She glanced between the two of them with about the biggest smile Augusta had ever seen.

Augusta glanced over at abbott as she felt a surge in his magic, and saw his eyes were glowing, and that smile was on his face too. The boy was practically vibrating with excitement. “I heard all of dad’s but there were a bunch he wouldn’t tell me about cause I was too young,” Abbott said and Augustine suddenly felt very small indeed as their excitement started reverberating around the room. “Will you tell me about the time he was kidnapped by the Mermaids?”

“Oooh, that’s a good one, Princess Tesiphon fell in love with him, and well… there were a lot of women who wouldn’t take “No” from your father back then, we all had to go down and fight through the coral palace to get him back! Hmm, let’s see here…”

Augusta decided if she was living with these two she’d need to develop a taste for adventure stories.

She was surely going to be hearing a lot of them.