Derzina trembled as the morning bell tolled, signalling her last moments were upon her. Rising from her bed, she looked in the mirror one last time. There wasn’t a single brown hair out of place and her ceremonial robe of white-gold silk was pristine. Nothing had changed from the last time she’d checked, yet she found herself curiously drawn to her reflection.
This was the face of the sacrifice, of the hero. The one the speakers had chosen as the last hope of their city. And yet, try as she might, Derzina could only see herself. Tired and lifeless, yet otherwise ordinary. The fear that had filled her yesterday when the speakers chose her had faded. All that remained now was resignation.
She wondered if this was how Paladins felt on the eve of battle. Or did their courage and honour sustain them? If so, perhaps it was lucky she’d never have a chance to join them. She clearly wasn’t brave enough; it was no wonder she was still an initiate.
There was a knock at the door, and Derzina knew the time had come. She looked around her room to see if there was anything she’d forgotten, but of course there was nothing; it was only her that they wanted.
Taking her first step toward her death, she froze as the fear washed over her anew. She was supposed to just cast her life aside like this? In the moment the terror that inspired felt insurmountable; it was only by reminding herself again and again that she willed herself into action. For the first time everyone was depending on her and she couldn’t be allowed to fail them, regardless of how she felt about it.
The knocking started again, only to be cut short when she opened the door. Warden Crusirus drew back his hand and inspected her, his visage a grim mask. She’d heard he’d demanded to take her place, though she didn’t know if it was out of compassion or a lust for glory. Either way, she’d have been happy to let him take it.
“Are you prepared?” he asked, his voice steady and strong.
“I am,” Derzina said, trying to inject a little confidence into her words. Seeing the warden’s stern, unmovable countenance helped.
“Then follow me, the speakers await you on the roof.”
He turned his broad back on her, clad in white gilded armour of the speaker’s personal guard, and marched off. In a daze, Derzina walked after him through the central temple’s high-ceilinged corridors of polished white stone.
She’d always thought it was a marvellous building, the crowning jewel of the city. Yet now that she was finally here, she hadn’t the slightest interest in it. In her detached state, it struck her as humorous. Had she the energy to spare, she probably would have laughed.
Climbing the winding stairs through the central temple, they passed not a single soul. Everyone other than those deemed essential to the ritual were busy preparing for the last defence of the city. The only send-off Derzina would get was from the most senior members of the priesthood. Technically it was a great honour, yet it saddened her that none of her friends or family would be attending. Maybe that was for the best, this way they could imagine she’d done her duty with courage.
The honour bestowed on her made it all the more uncomfortable, for she was underserving of it. What had she, a mere initiate, done to earn this right? But there was no arguing with the speakers, their words were those of the Lady herself.
They were all they had left of her now, after her fall two days before. It still didn’t feel real to Derzina, there simply hadn’t been time to process it. Especially with her own impending death.
Perhaps she was lucky to have been chosen, she didn’t know how they were supposed to go on with the light of their lives snuffed out. Though she wouldn’t get to see it, Derzina prayed that her life would be used to destroy those responsible. Then she’d be able to look on with satisfaction from the afterlife.
Derzina and Warden Crusirus reached the roof to find the three speakers waiting for them inside the glass dome. A series of lenses focused the sun’s light, focusing it into a golden beam in the centre where the Lady’s avatar had stood to deliver her address.
Seeing it up close gave Derzina an all new appreciation for its beauty, only now could she appreciate the intricate designs decorating the glass. And yet, it only reminded her of the loss they had all suffered. But she reminded herself that there was no time to mourn, they had more important matters to take care of.
“Initiate Derzina,” called Orvist, his voice carrying crystal clear across the rooftop, “step forward.”
Leaving her escort by the door, Derzina bowed her head and approached. Orvist moved aside to her let pass, and Derzina took up her position in the centre of the innermost circle. The pillar of light was blinding, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. Through the lenses’ magic, the red light of the suns was turned to gold.
“Kneel in the Lady’s light,” Orvist instructed.
Derzina did as she was bid, lowering her head.
“Servant of Ortesia,” he continued, “the Lady has taken note of your devotion and seen fit to bring you into the fold.”
Though she knew the words were simply part of the ceremony, the lie was painful to hear. If Ortesia were still alive, Derzina would have remained an initiate. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself to keep it together as she struggles to keep the tears from welling up.
Orvist placed his hand lightly on her head, a task normally given to the goddess herself. “Do you swear to defend her city and uphold her honour?”
“I do.”
“Then, on the Lady’s behalf, I bid you welcome to her service.” He removed his hand from her head and offered it to her. “You knelt an initiate, now rise a Paladin of Ortesia.”
Taking his hand, Derzina rose. Becoming a Paladin had been her dream as long as she could remember, yet her elevation brought her no joy. All it did was remind her of the goddess death and the duty she now faced. A part of her wondered if she was the first Paladin initiated after the death of their god. If so, it was a miserable deed and yet it was easily her most significant to date.
Normally a Paladin would have left the circle to be given their armour and other accoutrements, but here becoming a Paladin was a mere formality. Standing before the sombre speakers, Derzina waited for death.
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“Jarasin,” Orvist said, “the avatar’s remains.”
The other speaker unwrapped the bundle clutched in her arms and presented it to Derzina. She took the three jagged shards of white-gold metal, all that was left of their god’s mortal form, and clutched them reverently to her chest. The edges snagged in her clothing and damaged her robes but she paid it no mind.
The speakers joined hands in a tight circle around her, and Tirvest, the last of their number, said, “May the Lady be with you and with us.”
They closed their eyes and concentrated, drawing forth every iota of divine energy they could muster. Derzina clenched her fists, bracing herself for the oncoming tide. And yet when the energy rushed into her as a wave of gold, she found her preparations completely insufficient.
The first surge so overwhelmed her that her vision went completely white and she nearly lost consciousness. It raged through her body, searing hot and electrifying as it threatened to tear her apart. But she clung to her sense of duty and held herself together by force of will, she couldn’t break. Not yet.
She’d recovered enough to faintly perceive the world around her when another infusion of energy, even greater than the first, overwhelmed her completely. The world fell away, leaving her with only the faintest sense of self and she knew this must be the end.
With the last of her consciousness, she prayed that Ortesia, Lady of the Seeking light, would find her paltry vessel worthy. Everything went dark, and Derzina floated, unburdened by worldly sensation. She was wondering if this was death or if she’d already died without realising it, when she heard a woman’s voice.
“Most benevolent child,” it called, echoing through Derzina’s mind, “would you be so kind as to offer me your name?”
Derzina’s mind ground to a halt, overwhelmed by being spoken to by the Lady personally and within her own mind at that. That personal connection was the single greatest thing that had ever happened to her, even her imminent death seemed of little importance beside it.
Now that she was here, with a chance to become a part of her god like no one else before her, being afraid of what was to come seemed silly. She felt only a mixture of joy and awe at the idea now, such that it was difficult to think. It was only the knowledge that she’d been asked a question and the Lady expected a response that brought her back to sensibility.
As her muddled mind tried to remember her name, it occurred to her that there was something off about the voice. It was similar to the one she’d heard at each of the Lady’s speeches, but distinctly different. And with that realisation, her joy was snuffed out in an instant leaving only confusion in its wake.
“I am Derzina Omun, and if it’s not too impolite of me, may I ask your name in return?”
She fell back on the lifetime of manners instilled in her, especially when it came to a god. Even if this wasn’t the Lady, she didn’t want to offend whatever magical entity was addressing her. Whoever they might be.
“Of course, I am Atasimon, who was once called the Lady of the Twisted Veil. Though I must confess that I’m confused as to why you’d ask for my name after going to all this trouble to summon me.”
“Atasimon?” Orestia’s sister? How could that be? “Forgive my ignorance, but I had heard you fell to save your sister when the gods warred against the Demon King.”
“You are correct. But thanks to your efforts, I am reborn once more. I cannot thank you enough for restoring me, that I might see my sister once more.”
This couldn’t be true, there had to be some mistake here. If this was Atasimon, then was Ortesia gone forever? Derzina suddenly found it hard to breathe and swallowed to stop herself retching.
“No,” Derzina said within her head, unintentionally speaking to Atasimon, “she can’t be gone. There must have been a mistake.”
“What do you mean?” The goddess replied, perplexed.
“Please tell me there’s been a mistake, Lady Ortesia can’t be gone.”
Atasimon’s reply cut through her thoughts like a thunderbolt, rendering her concerns meaningless before the goddess’ will. “Explain yourself this instant. What’s this about my sister? What’s happened to her?”
Derzina desperately didn’t want to tell Atasimon the truth, but she could see no way around it; she had to find out eventually. “My Lady, I don’t quite know how to say this, but your sister fell in battle against the invaders.”
There was a long, pregnant pause. “When?”
“As far as we know, it was early yesterday morning. That was the last time any of us saw her alive. I’m sorry for your loss, know that every citizen grieves with you.”
“Thank you,” Atasimon said, sounding like she really meant it. “Is that why you summoned me?”
“Not precisely, my lady. In truth, we were trying to summon your sister. I mean no disrespect, but I haven’t the faintest idea how it could be that we revived you instead from her remains.”
Derzina spoke without engaging much of her mind, between losing Lady Ortesia forever and being connected with her sister like this she’d gone numb. While reviving Atasimon was still of great importance and may have felt like a dream to some, Derzina’s grief transformed it into a nightmare. One that gripped her tight, sealing away her sensibilities.
“That, at least, I can explain,” Atasimon said, her voice was tinged with sadness but she seemed to be keeping it together far better than Derzina was. “I was only able to save my sister’s life by merging my form with hers. Whatever remained of her must have been primarily derived from me. I realize this must be disappointing, but I swear I will do everything I can for you and your people in my sister’s place.”
“Thank you, I’m sure they will be most grateful for your aid, as I am.” They were sure to be as disappointed as Derzina was that their Lady was gone for good, but the situation was too dire for them to refuse any aid out of sentimentality. Reminding herself of what was at stake, Derzina set aside her grief and found new life within herself. It wasn’t much, but it would get her through these last moments of her existence.
“If you are prepared, then I ask that you complete the ritual and assume my mortal form. I offer it to you freely, so that you might save our city.” Derzina could see no reason to put it off any longer. In fact, she wasn’t sure why Atasimon hadn’t done so already. Had she just wanted one last chance to converse with her future vessel?
“Are you certain? I can’t imagine someone else inhabiting your body is a very pleasant thought, though given my circumstances I can hardly afford to be picky.”
“I understand your hesitation, but it is our only option, my lady. Don’t feel bad on my account, I volunteered for this and have already made my peace.” Derzina hoped that the god couldn’t tell she was lying.
“You volunteered to bring back your revered Lady, not her sister. Thus, I ask once more; are you certain?”
“I am,” Derzina replied, without hesitation. This was still her city’s best chance of survival.
“Very well, then I shall delay no longer.”
Derzina braced herself, whatever was to come must be even more intense than what came before it. Being the conduit for a god’s entrance into the world had to be one of the most extraordinary things a mortal could experience.
The central temple slowly faded into view around Derzina, though a dark haze covered all. She stood in the centre of the circle, with the speakers clustered in front of her. Their brows were furrowed and they appeared to be speaking with considerable excitement, though Derzina was deaf to it all.
She wondered if this was how it ended, one last glimpse before Atasimon took over completely. Whatever happened from here on out was in the gods’ hands, beings with capabilities she could only dream of. Reassured and surprised by how peaceful her end was, Derzina waited for the last vestiges of her being to die out.
She heard herself, as if from a great distance, say something to the speakers. Eyes widened as they subsided into stunned silence and the world came rushing back. Colour and sound returned, leaving Derzina more confused than ever.
“Well?” Orvist asked.
Derzina cleared her throat, the speaker’s disapproval spurring her to action. “Well what, speaker?”
“Atasimon spoke through you; she said you would explain what has happened.”
“From what I understand, when you attempted to revive our Lady, you instead revived her sister who became part of her during- “The speaker raised his hand, interrupting her.
“Yes, I’m aware. And is Lady Atasimon willing to aid us?”
Derzina nodded.
“Excellent, then we have not a moment to spare. Accompany the goddess to the postern, Commander Miriten awaits you.”
“Um,” Derzina said in her mind, “did you hear what he said, my lady?”
“Indeed. Do you know the way to the postern?” The goddess’ voice was eerily calm, almost devoid of emotion.
“I do.”
“Then you will direct me.”
Colour drained from the world around Derzina once more and, with a startled cry, her body leapt off the temple roof.