Veil [https://shadowsprey.com/wp-content/uploads/story-images/01_27_veilheader.png]
LUGOS
The renovations to the temple were taking longer than Velinius would have liked.
She didn’t see the need for new benches, so the ones that remained after her scuffle with Kanna’s little collective had been rearranged. The intricate chandeliers were exchanged for clear-lined pendants, which wouldn’t show so much dust and wear, and the shattered windows were replaced with thick beaded glass instead of the gaudy mosaics from before.
The rose window about the altar could stay, she decided. Its equivalent geometry was respectable, even if the colors were garish.
A thick layer of paint was being applied to the mural beneath it. Velinius smiled as the worker rolled the white layer over the image of Adita being consumed by the elements.
Kanna had been fascinated with the image. She hadn’t visited the temple often, but Velinius always caught her gaze drifting to that space. She would disconnect, her head tilting as if it whispered some unknowable secret only to her that she strained to hear.
Velinius had spent hours here, contemplating the legends that blanketed the walls. Nothing whispered to her. The tales of the old gods were pressed into plaster and glorified, but there were no secrets to be found in the flat images. The legends were spoken all over Lifrasir, a remnant of a shared past when the land was whole.
The people loved their stories, though the power wasn’t in the story so much as the telling of it. A story could divide people just as well as it could connect them. A story could conquer.
“Legatus?”
Velinius flattened her smile, feigning a long-suffering sorrow before turning on her heel to face the voice. The girl was still young, fresh from the officer trials. Her uniform was pressed clean, her dark hair shaved close to her head.
“Nissa,” she said, nodding to the officer. “You know I am not fully the Legatus.”
Nissa crossed her arm over her chest, bowing her head. “You have always been the true Legatus.”
Velinius allowed herself a smile, but kept it humbled. She placed a light hand on the girl’s shoulder before pulling away. “It gladdens me to hear that, but it is not fair.”
“It has nothing to do with fair,” Nissa said. “It is about what is right. The Consel failed us when they did not return your control sooner.”
Velinius clasped her hands behind her back and turned back to face the front of the temple so that Nissa would not attempt to read into any expressions that Velinius may let slip. While the girl was correct, there was an image to maintain. “It is true they were hesitant,” Velinius said with a mournful lean, “but they had their reasons.”
“Apologies, Legatus,” Nissa said to her back. “I forgot your sorrows.”
“Never mind that.” Velinius straightened her shoulders then cleared her throat. “What news of the traitors?”
There was a pause.
“They were last seen following the river south,” Nissa reported after gathering herself. “Few of the outposts in Atarrabi are manned, so they may have slipped across the border.”
“You are saying they cannot be found?”
“No, Legatus,” Nissa replied, her voice rising in her rush to respond. “We will find them. There are scouts in the area, and the Eyes have been deployed as you ordered.”
The Eyes were meant to be everywhere, always. The fact that their borders were not being properly observed was more evidence of Kanna’s failures.
“Good,” Velinius said. “I was almost disappointed. Anything else?”
The young officer cleared her throat. “There is news coming from Gegenes about an event in their Theatre, though the information regarding it is nebulous at best. Still, the Others are being seduced by the mystery of it.”
Velinius’s fingers tightened. “Is that all we know?”
“Eyes have reached the city,” Nissa offered. “We are awaiting their reports.”
The Theatre would call Kanna. She would not be able to stay out of a brawl. It was how Velinius had kept her, angry and ready to snap at any moment. Barely tethered, but tethered all the same to the spare morsels of approval that Velinius would offer.
Velinius turned to face Nissa.
“You are from Chromandae, correct?”
The girl nodded, beaming, her teeth shining against her ebony skin. “Yes, Legatus. I am of the fire.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Velinius nodded. Chromandae always raised proper soldiers.
“Do you know Salinae?”
“The Tribuni Salinae is the Saint of Water,” Nissa replied, as if reciting for an exam. “He is readying a detachment to aid in securing the Atarrabian borders.”
“Correct,” Velinius said, then smiled, “almost. He will be meeting me here in a moment. I have something to share with him, and you as well if you would like to stay.”
“If that is your command, Legatus, of course.”
Velinius turned back to the altar. She trusted Salinae’s loyalties, and Nissa was primed to bloom. Still, the matter would be delicate. While she had prepared for this moment, she knew that the presentation would need to be meticulously formed.
The people loved stories, and she needed to tell the right one. It was why she’d kept a watch on Haru. After Kanna had been taken care of, Velinius had to find a fitting ending for him.
Those two could not die together. The story of their devotion would live too long, hold too much power.
If Velinius had taken care of him when he was within the Tower, suspicion would be cast on Kanna’s last mission.
Velinius had intended to send Haru to the front, where he would die in battle like so many other soldiers. He would be mourned but a moment, then forgotten like all those before him.
His attack on her was unexpected, but she could bend it to her favor. After riling him to action, she could have executed him for treason. His escape was a wrinkle in her plans, but wrinkles were easily ironed out.
There was one small issue. Kanna was still alive. Velinius had been certain that she had passed, but when she had found Haru’s connection to the light, it had been split. It branched away from the primal source and to something else. Someone else.
A shift in the air announced the opening of the Temple door. Velinius glanced over her shoulder to Salinae. He was tall and broad, and though he did not stoop he did not tower in her eyes. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders, the ends cut blunt and straight. It was looser than she would prefer her officers to have, but he kept it clean and tamed so she didn’t see a need to issue a correction.
Besides, he was the strongest water loa in the Palamidia. He was also loyal to her alone, and that loyalty was useful to her, so she extended him leeway in such things.
“Have you readied your troops?” Velinius asked him.
“Yes,” he replied, stepping past Nissa before stopping. “There are two hundred ungifted soldiers, and twelve of our officers ready to lead at your command.”
Velinius nodded. “See them doubled,” she said. “Claim them from the other detachments equally. Take Nissa, as well.”
Salinae’s eyes widened only slightly in response to the increase. He turned to consider Nissa, before facing Velinius.
“I have a new assignment for you,” Velinius continued. “But it is of a sensitive nature.”
Velinius pivoted slightly, revealing her profile to the two officers. She bent her head, pressing her fingers between her eyes as if the thoughts strained her. After a beat, she let her hand drop. “I need you to travel to the Gegenes capitol,” she said at last. “To their so-called ‘Theatre.’”
Salinae opened his mouth, but snapped it closed.
“I know,” she said. “It will be seen as an advancement, but it is what we must do.” She paused, taking a visible breath, and turned to sit at the bench closest to the altar. “I believe that the former Legatus will be there.”
Nissa’s sharp inhale was just short of a gasp.
“Ananke?” Salinae asked, careful to keep his tone level. “Legatus, you said she died in Ilazki.”
“I did,” Velinius said. She needed to play this part correctly. “I believed she did, and in a way it was truth.”
Velinius shook her head. “I always feared that Ananke had too much of our mother in her, and with Aksana’s refusal to reveal her paternity there was no one to provide balance for Ananke. It was why she was raised here, at the Tower. Unfortunately, long held suspicions proved true. The long dark of Ilazki caused something in her to break.”
Velinius clasped her hands in her lap, lowering her head. “She went mad. She slaughtered the detachment. By my own hand, I tried to stop her. When I fled those bloodied grounds, I did not look back.”
Velinius raised her eyes to the altar. “When her body was not found, I hoped it was a mistake. That something had perhaps taken her. But I have begun to fear the worst: that she is still out there, wreaking havoc on the land.
“You understand,” she looked over her shoulder, pleading, “that I wanted to keep her memory pure. I did my best to raise her, to make her a light, and I could not bear my own failure. I thought she was gone, that we were safe.”
Velinius bowed her head once more. “However, it seems that I may be wrong.”
She waited, letting her tale live in the still air.
“Legatus,” Salinae started. “What would you have me do?”
“If Ananke is out there, she will not be able to resist the Theatre. I need you to find her, and deal with her. If she has lost her sense, there is no telling what she may unleash upon our world.”
“Yes, Legatus,” Salinae replied. “If that is your order.”
Velinius sighed, long and slow. She propped her elbows on her knees, resting her face in her hands. “Yes,” she said, her voice cracking with pain. “It must be so.”
“Then it will be."
“You may go.” As the steps of the officers began to recede, she lifted her head and jerked to face them.
“May the gods never greet you,” she said.
Salinae nodded. “They will wait for me longer.”
When she was sure they were gone, Velinius rose from her seat. She straightened her back and brushed the creases from her uniform.
She looked up to the rose window, the mural below giving out its last gasp as the painters finished the final coat.
A calm came over her as it disappeared.
The world didn’t need the chaos of the old gods.
It was time for order.