The three days that passed were the most uncomfortable, intolerable, agonizing three days of Nethira’s life. She wasn’t allowed to tell anyone what had happened to her. Her mother warned her that with something this important she couldn’t make any decisions without the Temple. Without the Temple? It was her life! Her future! Why did she no longer have a choice in it!?
“You are the most precious person in the world” The Left hand’s words echoed in her head constantly. She couldn’t believe them. It was incomprehensible to believe that somehow she was fantastic. Especially in this situation.
For the last three days, she’d followed her mother out onto the streets where she worked telling fortunes. It was impossible to be at home with her family right now, even more so to be around her brother. Even though he didn’t know any better, and it wasn’t his fault, something about him seemed tainted now. Her mother was no fool, and she could tell after the first night and all the questions how uncomfortable she was. She took Nethira out as early as she could and brought her back late.
While they were out her mother had taught her a handful of small spells. They came to her much easier than they had before. She could now feel and see the things her mother was describing with complete ease. Nethira knew it wasn’t of her own volition and it hurt to think that it was only Tillia’s power in her body that allowed her to excel. At least with this small outlet she didn’t feel as ill all the time.
The days crept along, slowly and uneasily, until the morning of the fourth day came. She knew that the inner circle had come to some sort of decision. She’d overheard her mother chatting quietly with another Shadow Woman about the gathering that had been called. Her mother had tried her best not to let Nethira hear what they were discussing but words floated to her ears so easily these days, even if she wasn’t listening that hard.
That morning, before she’d left for the temple she hugged her father tightly, as tightly as she could bring her body to. Even though no announcement had been made she had the itching feeling that she wouldn’t be seeing her family for a long time. It was like she’d seen the next few days in a dream she could hardly remember, but the shadows of the memories were still there, lingering absently in her periphery. She had to try hard to keep herself from crying. She wasn’t supposed to let anyone know anything until the official announcement had been made. Her mother had warned her that they might want to safeguard the truth. Nethira wasn’t so naive that she couldn’t see why it was necessary.
As she walked with her mother down the streets and towards the Tilliana Temple, her eyes fixated on the ground in front of her. It seemed the only things she could look at these days were rocks and dirt.
“You’ll be alright,” Her mother ran her fingers through Nethira’s hair before resting her hand on the small of her back. “You’re so strong Nethira. Remember that,” She said. The words were short and kind, but they did little to easy Nethira’s suffering.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“I love you mother,” She said softly, leaning into her mother.
“I love you too,” She cooed back to her.
The temple was full of chatter as they arrived. It seemed busier than the day of the festival. Perhaps because everyone was gathered there at once. They filed into the grand offering hall, the same hall where Tillia had spoken her last words. Nethira was uneasy.
Nethira stood, silently, beside her mother as she spoke with a few other Shadow Women. She couldn’t contribute to the conversation, she could hardly hear what they were saying over the pounding of her heart. What was she supposed to add to this conversation? ‘Ah, no, in fact, you’re wrong ma’am. You’re all here because of me.’
A hand on her shoulder and a familiar voice broke her from her thoughts. Shannon had come over to them.
“Excuse me, if I may interrupt,” He said to her mother. No other words were exchanged between them. No explanation or reasoning. Her mother knew why the Left Hand had come to retrieve her. She smiled as best she could to Nethira, before nodding.
“I understand,” she said.
“Nethira,” Shannon guided her away from her mother and towards the room off the back of the hall. She didn’t want to leave, but she followed without resistance.
The room she was taken to was quiet. It was just the three members of the inner circle. Manesc, Ror and now her and Shannon. Ror motioned for her to sit, before passing her a glass. She was confused when there wasn’t water in it.
“You might want to drink that to calm your nerves."
“Today we’re going to be introducing you to the Temple,” She explained. “We’re going to let them know that you are Tillia’s chosen child, an avatar who posses her spirit and power. For now, we think it’s best to not let anyone know how serious the state is. We don’t want to cause a panic.”
Ror sat across from her, watching her. She didn’t know what the heaviness of her gaze was for, but she knew that the Right Hand wanted something from her she’d never be able to give. Nethira’s eyes lowered to her cup. “Do you understand?” Ror asked her. All Nethira was able to do was nod.
“This means you’re going to take a greater role in the Temple as well,” Manesc said. “I don’t think it will be too terribly difficult. It will mostly be the duties of a figurehead. The three of us will still be in charge of decisions, but we’re going to ask you to spend a lot of time at the Temple for the time being,” He said.
“What about...the other part?” Nethira asked. That was the part she could not shake herself from. The idea of having to offer herself to this being that had taken it upon himself to destroy any and all of his piers terrified her.
Shannon tried his best to offer her a smile. “Unfortunately, we won’t have much time. We’re going to take a month to try and make sure you are prepared. We want you to be able to hold yourself and protect yourself, we don’t want to just throw you into a viper pit. Unfortunately, though we’re worried that if we wait much longer then a month Cors might grow….bored,” he said. The word sounded so disgustingly trivial it made her shiver arch across her shoulders like the caress of a ghost. All of this...all these lives that had become her burden and her only job was to keep Cors from growing bored.