Somewhere in the Aurora Federation, The Witching Hour, 3rd Day of Ventis
Malakyh waited for the Elders of the Primal Coven to show up. He stood with Madame Hersa as they waited in a pitch-black open field. The grounds had an eight-pointed star burned into the ground. It was a teleportation marker to allow the coven to pass through the Ley Lines of the realm more easily.
“You are exceptionally quiet tonight, Malakyh.” His master commented. A slow, side-eyed look peered at him.
Malakyh raised a brow. “How so?”
She smiled. “You always asked me many questions when you were still my pupil.” A sigh escaped her lips. Forgive me. I know you are no longer a boy but a man. Perhaps it is just an old woman reliving a memory.”
Malakyh snorted. “Old? Hardly. I suppose I have grown accustomed to the art of patience. Even as a Strega, impatience can lead to death.”
“My, you have grown. I have always meant this, but I am grateful to have called you my pupil.”
“Now you see why I still call you Master.”
The conversation ceased when a whirring sound resounded through the wind, and a surge of magical energy pressure made both Hersa and Malakyh turn toward the field.
Several figures–older women ranging from age forty to sixty years old–appeared before them. There were many Bloodlines in the Primal Weavers; the Claussers were the largest Bloodline of Weavers still living.
“Elders,” Hersa bowed. Malakyh followed suit. “We have come to give you news if you are unaware.”
“Speak,” one elder said. Their black hair was sticking out of a sheer shawl wrapped securely around her head.
“The Children of Deimos… they're here.”
A collective gasp shifted to each Elder who was in the circle.
“How is that possible?” One exclaimed into the wind.
“They disappeared along with the mad deity Deimos during the Primal Chaos era, over 500 years ago, " another said.
“It would seem his followers have returned,” Madam Hersa told them, keeping her tone even. “For what? I am unsure.”
“And what do you have in mind then?” The black-haired Elder said.
Madame Hersa nodded toward Malakyh so he could take the floor. Uncrossing his arms, he stepped forward and addressed the Elder Coven.
“We look for the source. Where did this originate? Have other people witnessed it? That's where we will start. I'll be willing to lead the investigation.”
“And what of the rest of us?”
“That, Master Hersa will say…”
This time, Madame Hersa spoke, “Simple. We shall be ready to take down the Children of Deimos again as we and our ancestors did hundreds of years ago. My only question: Will you aid me again and push aside the ridicule and false accusations toward us? Though we may not have High Cardinal Tiberius Evergreen to lead or speak on our behalf, we can still honor him by taking up the fight he did all those centuries ago.”
With collective looks, hums, and nervous glances, the Coven finally concluded.
“We shall have to decline,” The Coven said. Much to Malakyh's surprise, but incidentally, Madame Hersa knew that would be their answer.
“What? How can you sit back and–” Malakyh started to rant but was halted when his Master held up a delicate, manicured hand. He pressed his lips together, knowing better than to defy her.
“I understand,” was all she said from her delicate lips. Her eyes closed, but you could feel her power shifting between the earth and air from the aura's atmosphere.
“Do not get us wrong, Hersa. We were young and strong-minded five hundred years ago, with someone who spoke against the heinous accounts, but we lost countless witches to that fate. You lost your pupil that day to the dark side.”
Malakyh had always known his master to be serious but playful when necessary and only show emotion sparingly. Seeing her flinch hit him to the chord. He knew about her last pupil working with the Children of Deimos. She never knew what happened to them afterward.
“There is no need to apologize. Malakyh and I will make do with what forces we have.”
The witches looked at one another, wondering if she had lost it.
They nodded with grace and afterward departed. Malakyh stood alone once more with his Master.
He need not ask about what happened to the last pupil.
“I know that look on your face, Malakyh.” She did not turn to look at him. She knew his movements to his aura without a glance.
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Malakyh grinned. “Nope, nothing on my face. Why would you suspect such a thing?”
Madame Hersa turned and smiled, though Malakyh could see sadness through the facade behind that grin. She was not the only one who could read a person's aura; they had grown comfortable in each other's presence.
Malakyh cleared his throat. “So, where was this source you spoke of? Moreover, for that matter, the assistance? “Please understand me, Master Hersa; you are powerful, and I have learned from the best. However, I must say that it would be nearly impossible for just the two of us to defeat the Children of Deimos and Deimos himself. What is your plan?”
“Have faith Malakyh.” She patted his cheek with a gentle hand. “Lumos has sent her blessing. There is a small town in the Lysandrian Kingdom: Sylvanbrook. Do you still remember that teleport spell I taught you?”
“Of course. I remember everything you have taught me. What's happening?”
Madame Hersa's smile faltered some. “I know what the Children of Deimos plan to do and how.”
•†•
Outside Ledel City - early morning the week of Aquisol, 4th day
Per Cassandra's request, the group left Ledel early that morning and was on the road before it was light outside. They settled off the side of the road for a short reprieve until they could see the path ahead of them.
“So, what will we do now that no one believes that Magycte Beasts or the Children of Deimos have returned?” Lyra asked. She sat on the ground near the fire that Eamon had built as Aurora slept with her head on her lap.
Sly’s arms and legs crossed as she leaned off from a perched rock across from Lyra to the left.
Eamon nodded, also curious. He sat nearest Sly on the ground floor with one arm leaning against his hiked-up leg. The other leg is laid flat out. “I’m curious to know that too.”
Cassandra sat near Eamon, with Tierney by her side. She adjusted her sling arm as she listened to the travelers she had just met, yet she knew she could trust them. Tierney, however, was less unsure of the travelers. Especially Eamon, there was something recognizable, though she would have sworn she would have remembered someone like him—his eyes threw her off. She could not help the uneasiness around him.
“The answer is simple…” Sly drawled out. Both Eamon and Lyra leaned forward, waiting for Sly's reveal. Even Cassandra felt compelled, leaning forward.
“We return to Sylvanbrook.”
Lyra pinched her brows together. “Why?”
“Because that is the first location we know the Children of Deimos were located. They were doing something in that area before we showed up. We need to find out why. The same goes for the other locations in Gearford and–”
“The Valerian Republic,” Cassandra said with a breathless reply.
Sly nodded in confirmation. “We’ll go to each location in Lysandrian and investigate. There were reasons why they came there.”
“What about Elmsworth's Luminous Forest or the Primal Eyre Forest?” Lyra asked. “We might not have fought any of the Children of Deimos there, but those Rifts showing up there are weird, right?”
Aurora hummed something in her sleep, but she quieted down when Lyra brushed a hand through her hair.
“Now you’re thinking like a Locksmith.” Sly snapped her fingers with a grin. The flash of heat rushed to Lyra’s face, and her shoulders straightened at the unexpected compliment.
Eamon chuckled. He found her reaction endearing and cute.
Lyra side-eyed him and, playfully, rolled her eyes. “Oh, laugh it up. You know you’d be a bright tomato, too.”
“Fine, fine, touché.”
Cassandra looked on at the exchange and smiled. She had been around Locksmith’s but only for a fleeting moment related to work. She never thought they were inferior but never paid too much attention. They were merely soldiers for the people, but they were more than that. They are people, too, the people’s champion. If not, heroes.
Cassandra cleared her throat, getting everyone’s attention. “I won’t make this long, but I wanted to thank you three for letting me accompany you and for believing me when those who I’ve denied me for speaking the truth.”
“Of course!” Lyra exclaimed. Cassandra’s eyes pivoted to the excitable young Locksmith with a balled fist. “That’s what Locksmiths do. We help those in need. It’s as simple as that.”
Sly shrugged. “Lyra’s right. We help not because it’s our duty but because Aurum is our home, and the people deserve to feel comfortable in it.”
Cassandra was teary-eyed but willed herself to stop—a habit she had learned as a soldier—when the first rays of morning light began to shine over the plains.
“Guess we should get a move on,” Eamon said, the first to stand as he started to put out the fire. Everyone else got up, too.
Lyra was about to wake up Aurora when she started to whimper again. Panicked, Lyra reached out for her shoulders, but pain rippled through her body like a shock and shot her backward. Her back hit the base of the tree trunk as she gasped, dropping to the ground. She lurched forward as a white-hot fire of pain shot throughout her body.
“Lyra!” Eamon shouted in her direction.
A strong gust of wind circled them, whipping up dirt and debris. Aurora floated mid-air, inside a bluish aura, with her white hair wild and her red eyes glowing.
Sly removed her whip. Cassandra, though injured, put out an arm to keep Tierney back and reached for her ax. Stigma. Both women waited for any threat that came at them.
“Wait!” Lyra gasped out. Her arm wrapped around her stomach as she limped back. “Don’t hurt her. Th-there has to be something wrong.”
Eamon rushed to her side. His arm wrapped around her waist. She secured one arm around his neck.
“We have to find a way to snap her out of it, Eamon.”
He nodded. “Agreed, but how?”
Lyra did not know. The only idea she had was going to be very reckless.
“You aren’t going to like this…” Lyra whispered.
Eamon narrowed his eyes on her. “Lyra, what are you planning?”
She turned to him and smiled. Then, she spoke through their Kesync bond: "Just watch my back, okay? I trust you."
Eamon’s eyes widened. Deciding on whether to trust Lyra’s quick-brained thinking, but finally nodded. Okay. Go for it.
Could you give me an extra boost of Zephyr? The power of the Wellsprings welled within them, calling upon the air-laden Essentia.
“Radiant Rush!” Lyra shouted at the top of her lungs as the surge of Essentia propelled her forward, windswept power flowing through her like a breathless huff as the wind rushed through her afro.
“Eamon, what is she–!” Sly started to say, but Eamon cut her off with a shake of his head. Sly pressed her lips together, nodding and believing whatever they planned would work.
Once Lyra was close enough, she reached out her arms and tackled Aurora in a tight hold. An electrifying shock rushed throughout Lyra’s body, and she cried out in pain; images blurred in her head at a rapid pace, but she did not let go.
“I’ve…got… you… Aurora. You. Are not. Alone.” She gasped with each word more agonizing than the rest.
Aurora’s head tipped up. Her eyes were still glowing, but there was no pupil. “L-Lyra?”
Lyra tried to smile through the pain and nodded. “That’s right, sweetie. I’m here, and so is everyone else: Sly and Eamon. We’re here for you.”
Aurora blinked. “Here for… I’m Aurora Ashbourne.”
Lyra nodded. The shocking pain dissipated as Aurora was slowly coming out of it. “That’s right. You’re an Ashborne, too.”
Aurora's power slowed down, as did the chaos of the wind. Both Lyra and Aurora gently dropped to the ground, with Aurora securely in her arms, sleeping once more.
Now that the danger had passed, everyone circled Lyra, looking at Aurora.
They all had the same thought: Who, or even what, was Aurora?