The glow disappeared, and falling to her knees next to Morkad, Celeste could see that she was flesh and blood once more. She could still see the man’s soul though, and she could tell that it was weak. Too little had remained, and it was beginning to flicker out. Celeste reached down and held the large Korek in her arms. His muscular shape, though small for a Korek, still dwarfing her petite Fershya frame. All the more, she held him as a mother would her sick child.
He stared up at her, his eyes shaking but clear.
“You’re going to be alright now Morkad.” She whispered to him. At that, he let out a low chuckle.
“We are both too intelligent to pretend that prophetess.” He responded, the fire in his words gone, replaced with the parchment paper voice of an old scholar. “My time is coming now.” Slowly, reaching up, Morkad slapped his throat with his hand. The tattoo of an X on his wrist, now a scar. “Thank you.” He forced out, tears filling up his eyes.
“It is time to rest now Morkad.” She whispered to him slowly, barely holding back tears herself. “the Mother awaits you.”
Now tears did fall from him as he stared up at her wide eyed.
“After all I’ve done? Can even Ethinia forgive me?” He asked, a yearning in his tone.
“I told you already Morkad.” Celeste responded, speaking in Korek’ta. “The Mother forgives all, and you too are forgiven in full. I see you, I see your soul, and it shines as brightly as She above.” Morkad’s lips quivered, then tears streamed down his face. Celeste reached up with a hand and wiped the tears from his cheek. “You will stand before the nine thrones, and Ethinia will take you in Her embrace. I promise you that Morkad.”
“Th… thank you child…” Morkad managed through sobs. Then, his face turning hard as rock, he sniffled back his tears. “Listen to me child… there is… there is much you must now.”
Celeste furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Everything will be alright here, fear not Morkad.”
“No.” He spoke grasping her hand in his. There was a fire in his words, but a fire of gravitas instead of rage. “They will come for you again. They wanted you dead, sixteen years ago, and they will come again.”
Celeste stared at him, wide eyed. “Who…”
“You can not die, Your Radiance. The Chaos and the others as well want you dead. But you cannot die.” He held her hand tight, then Morkad’s eyes glazed over, the clenching of her hand slipping. The soul that radiated within Morkad, slipped away into darkness.
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Celeste cradled the body, crying for the loss that had come.
“Do not weep for X, Your Radiance. He was a heretic.” Gardinal spoke from behind her with his gruff tone. Celeste shook her head.
“X was a creature of the Chaos, no different than a daemon.” She spoke, forcing her words to be strong. “I do not weep for that beast. I weep for Morkad, a good man, turned to darkness by our failures.” She shook her head and looked up at her guardian over her shoulder. The glowing armor was gone now, his tattered priest robes and torn plate all that was left. “Though you are mistaken Brother Gardinal, these are not tears of sorrow. They are of joy, for at the end Morkad was a good man.”
Gently, Celeste laid Morkad down into a bed of flowers that surrounded him. Rising, she turned, and saw her friends before her.
Kriss was the first she saw, his neck healed, a wan smile upon his face. But he was alive, and that was enough to make her heart soar. A feeling only compounded by Arabella and Valleresa next to him, and Vallerian and Charlotte besides that. The latter two both back to normal, Vallerian’s shadows dissipated and Charlotte her normal silver-gold feathered self.
“Best not to keep them waiting.” Kriss chimed with a grin. Celeste furrowed her brow. Keep who…
Her friends parted, and from behind them she could see the rest of the courtyard. Hundreds if not thousands of people filled the space now, filled it to the temple gates and past out into the streets. Priests and priestesses that she had feared dead, whole and uninjured. The Faith Militia, standing proud beside common folk with wooden staves and clubs in hand. Silver skulls and Korek. Even courtesans and street urchins, the people who had been there when she was but a child, all stood before her.
Swallowing, Celeste unsteadily took a step toward them, and whispers spread out among them like fish rushing up a river.
“The Prophetess.”
“Her Radiance.”
“The Golden Haired Healer.”
“Voice of Ethinia.”
“Friend of the Korek.”
The names echoed across the crowd, bouncing from one side to another. But among them all was one name repeated more than any other.
“The Lost Heir.”
And at that, the people slow began to kneel. Hundreds of them, Jöln and Khazimi, Sherya and Fereni. They all took a knee before her, bowing their heads. Looking out over them, Celeste locked eyes with Tabitha. She stared at Celeste, a penetrating look in her eyes. Then, nodding, she too took a knee.
The only ones who did not kneel were the Korek. The large red-hued people standing tall over the crowd, raising their weapons high above their heads.
“Na’Ga’Na.” Rekiak chanted first, and then the rest began to follow suit. “Na’Ga’Na. NA’GA’NA!” They repeated, over and over. A sound that echoed out across the courtyard and surely down the streets.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Vallerian asked with his usual snark, stepping up beside her with Kriss at his side. On her other side, Gardinal stood beside her with the handmaidens close at hand.
“It means…” Celeste choked back, pride and nervousness filling her up in equal measure. Her vision seemed to spin at the sight of so many kneeling before her. “It means Mercy of Mercies.”
Vallerian gave her a quizzical look, but Kriss answered thankfully.
“They are claiming her the Mercy for Mercies. The one above all Ga’Na.” Kriss shook his head in disbelief. “The one above all Korek bands.”
Celeste stared out at them all, at the people kneeling to her like they would to a queen. To the Korek who claimed her as their highest leader. Her vision began to glow blurry as she looked at them all, her throat tightening.
Then Celeste fell unconscious.