Auraya
Infection and death had taken up residence in the foot. The thick sludge that oozed from the wound was tinged in hues of gold and yellow, emitting an odour akin to sweet urine. The original wound – a deep slice from a stray piece of glass – flamed in its irritation. Auraya could empathise.
Pointless, she thought. A simple cleanse and tea to stave off infection, and the old woman wouldn’t be at risk of losing her foot; making an already hard life that much harder.
Life in Whitegate was never kind to its residents, but it was particularly cruel to those with a physical ailment. Most earned their piece through manual means, and when that was hindered, it wasn’t uncommon to be found face down in a gutter. Auraya would ensure such a fate did not befall Bettina Anderson. She spent a large portion of her days chopping vegetables and meats, cooking soups, and serving workers. Her feet were needed for her trade.
Ensuring her features displayed just the right blend of concern and censure, Auraya raised her eyes to deliver her verdict. She was met with defiance, which caused a slight raise to the corner of her mouth. Betty knew what was coming.
“You should have come to us sooner.”
Light scolding was always required when patients made themselves worse.
“A little longer and you may have lost the foot.”
“Times are hard child,” the older woman retorted, all but rolling her eyes.
“You know we would never turn you away,” Auraya shot back, exasperation leaking out unbidden. “Especially not for a cleanse and a tea.”
“I’ve suffered worse.”
Petulance? Really? Auraya let it go.
“Lie down Betty,” she said with a small sigh.
When Betty’s eyes were away from the pitiful appendage, Auraya placed her hand on the wound. Reaching to the place where her magic dwelt, she called forth a sliver. Not much was needed to reverse the damage. She sent it through the wound and dampened the feeling, alleviating some of the pain. Not too much, lest the lesson not be learnt. She sent her magic through Betty’s blood and obliterated the infection. Then set about repairing the damage and purging the last of the ooze from the foot. As her magic worked, Auraya used a basin of warmed water and rags to clean the wound. Once clean, she took a sachet of salve and massaged it into the wound to disguise her magic use. She then wrapped the foot in clean bandages.
Their magical talent was one of their most closely guarded secrets. There was no telling what would happen if people found out what she and her kin were capable of. Well, she could speculate. Recruitment, betrayal, study, or death. She had a healthy dose of cynicism developed from her experiences. As such, she did not heal the foot completely, simply reversed the worst of the damage and set it on track to heal naturally.
“Now I know you’re not going to like this,” Auraya said to the woman, holding up her hand at the attempted retort. She donned a stern look and slightly raised her voice. “I’m sending Gilly over for the next quarter or so. He will help you, so you can rest your foot as much as possible.”
“You know I can’t afford that.” Her embarrassment and defiance made Auraya soften.
“You have soup. Feed Gilly and keep him out of trouble. This cycle’s winter was tame. Harvests were abundant and spending is rising. Business will pick up and you will be able to pay us when the seasons change. I have faith, so should you.” She paused and made sure she had Bettina’s attention. “We look after our own Betty.”
They stared at each other for long moments, stubbornness a common trait for those born and raised in Whitegate. Bettina had watched Auraya and her kin grow up. This situation was not new to either of them, so Bettina conceded with grumbles muttered under breath.
“Bloody kids. Always poking their bloody noses where they aren’t bloody wanted.” Blue tendrils of smoke curled out of Bettina’s mouth as she paraphrased the sentiment repetitively. The lies warmed Auraya. She hadn’t overstepped, and her concerns were accepted.
After giving Bettina instructions for maintenance of her wound and consumption intervals for her tea, Auraya left.
Bettina’s shop was dark as she walked through from the back room where she slept. The sight twisted her gut at the unnecessary loss of trade. Shaking it off, she stepped outside.
The moment the door opened, the reek of sewerage and filth assaulted Auraya’s nose, causing her to close her mouth, frown and take shallow breaths. Bettina lived next to a trade centre. Blacksmiths, jewellers, armourers, carpenters, and the like were clustered to her left. Since wares were no longer sold in this part of the city, upkeep had declined. Leaving the roads in disrepair and waste left haphazardly in the streets. Opposite and to the right were a few more stores that catered to the trade centre: tailors, dyers, weavers, bakers, and so on.
Standing outside the laundry service were Gina and Trevor. A touch of a smile and then a frown flickered across Auraya’s face in quick succession. She was happy to see them, and then concerned about their purpose.
“What is it?”
“Hello to you too,” Trevor teased.
“It was a practical greeting,” Gina defended with a shrug.
A single raised eyebrow from Auraya halted the potential bickering.
“Rafe says the castle guard are out and headed in this direction,” Trevor’s humour fled. Joker he may be, but he took his role seriously. “They have a priest with them. He has something with him that’s glowing and seems to be leading the group.”
“We weren’t sure what to do,” Gina’s worry would only be discerned by the few who knew her well. “He said they changed direction as you did, always heading towards your stops.”
“How long?” Curiosity and irritation warred in Auraya. Rafe was an impeccable tracker and there was never a need to doubt his deductions. If he believed they were heading to Auraya’s location, then that was most likely the case. If so, then why? What would castle guards and a priest want with her? Were they aware of the magic? Had someone been caught?
“A quarter mark,” Trevor answered.
“Let’s head to the garden.” If they were coming, then so be it, but she would not be caught in front of Bettina’s shop. Better to lead the confrontation to the place of her choosing. “Get everyone to check in.”
They turned right, away from the trade centre, to an area where there were more homes than shops. Fairly close to Bettina’s shop was an empty plot where a former home had lost a war with a fire. The residents had left with their lives, but their home was reduced to charred wood and brick, and ash. The owners of the home – rich, entitled fools – had not deigned to rebuild and had left the plot to its fate. Nature had taken it back, so it had turned wild and unkempt. The locals referred to it as the Garden. They kept the shrubbery from overgrowing, planted some flowers and fruit trees, and maintained it as a community. Benches had been dragged into the centre, giving Gina and Trevor a perch to bicker.
Auraya spent the remaining time finding the place inside herself that was calm. It was the same place that her magic resided. The ebb and flow of energy had a calming effect, much like standing on the beach, allowing the waves to entrance you. It was one of Auraya’s favourite places to go when her mind was full, and she needed to settle it. Even in a port city, she couldn’t always get there, so her own internal pool would have to make do. If she was about to confront a haughty party, she would need to draw on her calm to remain impassive and logical.
As they waited, she sensed several of her kin draw in on their location. They remained in the shadows, surrounding the Garden. She could also sense all those who were calling out over their network. She zoned it out and left the task to whomever it had been delegated to.
They heard their approach before they saw them. The clatter of armour, the murmur of residents, the self-righteous aura of the privileged. They rounded the corner on the right of the Garden and came to a stop in front of Auraya. Five castle guards outfitted in full plate armour, only the face of the lead guard on view as his visor was raised. His features were mostly blank, but betrayed some curiosity and disbelief as he regarded Auraya; taking in the rags she called clothes, no doubt. Auraya squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and accepted the visual ‘critique’. After a few moments, she drew her attention to the priest. His white robes were trimmed with silver. Auraya was unsure what that signified. The priest seemed to be having a harder time concealing his opinions. The displeasure was evident, and perhaps a touch of incredulity, but then it was quickly replaced with excitement. No one spoke. Auraya would wait for them to reveal their intent. Gina and Trevor had desisted their noise and flanked her. The priest raised himself to his full height and took a step forward.
“On behalf of the Reevers royal family and the church of the Pair, you are summoned to the castle,” he said imperiously. A look of confusion snaked across his face when no one moved.
After a few beats, Auraya asked, “why?”
The irritation came and went in a blink. “You will be informed once we arrive at the castle.” Superiority oozed from the priest. Needless to say, he was not the only irritated person in the group. Trevor’s snicker was, of course, not well received. The continued lack of movement further displaced the priest’s calm.
“You are to be escorted to the palace,” the priest soldiered on. “The high priest awaits your return and will explain to you what is necessary upon arrival.”
“I go nowhere with strangers without knowledge of their intent.” She adopted a disinterested gait, further annoying the priest.
“Now see here,” the priest was now completely failing to mask his emotions. “The high priest is waiting. You would do well to be honoured and come along without further complaint.”
“I couldn’t care less if the king himself had returned from the grave to call me up to his den of inequity,” Auraya was enjoying her influence on the priest’s demeanour. However, the smile remained off her lips. “I go nowhere with strangers without knowledge of their intent.”
“Outrageous…” The priest was cut off by the lead guard, who looked amused.
“Neither of the royal children were chosen,” the guard said calmly. “We were led to you.”
As his words sunk in, confusion and disbelief surged. The king had passed just over a turn ago. The royal heirs were young, and the new ruler was due to be announced any day now. If what the guard had implied was correct, the Choosing ceremony had failed to find the next ruler and had led this company to Auraya. With no knowledge of her father, it was a possibility – albeit slim – that she was a bastard of late King Hamilton. He was known for being free with his love in his youth. Regardless of the implausibility, Auraya knew she mustn’t remain inside her own mind.
“Rafe.” He stepped out of the shadows on her right and walked slowly to her side. Without taking her eyes off the castle contingent, she compiled a list of tasks in her mind for their absence. She felt a spark of humour from the group’s shock at Rafe’s arrival. Only the lead guard searched the shadows for others, he clearly did not like the idea that he may be surrounded and yet ignorant of it.
“Tell Winnie I won’t be able to make my last two appointments. Neither of them requires me specifically. Tell Tris to hold off until after this matter is resolved. Tell Seelie to gather the others quickly. And send Gilly to look after Betty. T, Gina and I will be heading to the castle.” After a pause, she said, “I’d like Scarlet.”
A silent conversation passed between the two before Rafe walked away to the far end of the Garden.
“We are only to escort the Chosen,” the lead guard stated.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“My apologies,” she did not feel contrite in the least. “I did not intend to give you the impression I cared.”
“How dare you,” the priest cried out. “You…”
Once again, the lead guard quieted his noise with a raise of his hand.
“We have our orders…” there was not much gusto to his argument as he trailed off.
“Again,” she said, as the trio began walking around the castle contingent. She stopped and looked back at the group. “I’m not sure how that is my problem. We three go, or none at all.”
As the priest opened his noise maker to bray once again, the lead guard stepped in front of him and spoke loudly. “As you will.”
The priest looked between the two, aggravation and aborted retorts evident on his lips. With a final, overly dramatic exhale, he seemed to acquiesce. The contingent walked past the trio and led the way onwards.
The journey to the castle was made without much chatter. The guards led the way, the priest positioned next to the lead guard and Auraya and her kin trailing behind. The priest’s dark expression lessened as they walked through the city gates and further into the city. The closer they got to the castle, the more affluent the houses became. The difference was jarring, simmering a quiet rage in Auraya. The streets were cleaner, the shops more plentiful, the people healthier, the houses more extravagant. The differences were profound. However, the looks of curiosity were the same. All stared, whispered and stopped to take in the little spectacle.
The castle loomed in its unnecessary profligacy. Stone masons had been paid vast quantities of coin to fashion gargoyles, intricate crenellations, and absurdly high towers. It screamed security and wealth. As the last of the manors fell away, the group began walking uphill. Two looming towers of grey stone flanked the gate, and the currently raised portcullis. The cobbles here were well maintained, free of debris, litter and imperfection. The areas around the wall that shielded the castle was free of trees and shrubbery. A siege could not be hidden from the battlements.
As they approached the gate, the four guards manning it stood to attention. One broke ranks as they drew close. He raised his hands and demanded, “weapons”.
Auraya gave him a blank look before looking away and continuing to walk.
He stepped in front of her, hand still raised, just out of reach. When he spoke again, she could hear his irritation. “No one gets in the castle with weapons unless we have been advised otherwise. Hand them over.”
Auraya’s mouth pulled into a small smirk. “Take them from me.”
All her kin carried weapons. They went everywhere with them and trained rigorously to use them. Whitegate was a dangerous place, especially for the young and supposedly weak. Her sword hung from her belt; a sleek single edged blade commissioned by Reggie. She would not be parted from it.
Trevor and Gina stepped up to her sides, hands to their own similar blades. Auraya raised both hands to placate them. One simpleton underestimating her was fine.
The guard huffed in amusement, taking a step forward and making to grab Auraya by the shoulder. She side stepped his hands, smirked wider and raised her eyebrows in challenge.
The huff that came was slightly more annoyed this time. He repeated the action, trying and failing to grab her. He was at least two feet taller and perhaps twice her weight. He would be imposing to most, but Auraya relished the challenge. Everyone else remained silent, watching the altercation. No one made a move to interfere or speak. The priest had his mouth open in disbelief.
The guard let out another huff of irritation and surged forward with both hands. This time, Auraya slipped under his left arm, retrieving her dagger from her boot as she dipped low. As soon as she was behind him, she kicked the back of his left knee, bringing him down with a clatter. During his confusion and subsequent hesitation on his knees, she slipped her dagger under his helm, poking him in the soft tissue of his neck. He stilled when he felt the prick.
“I go nowhere with strangers without my weapons,” she whispered softly into his ear.
After a beat, laughter pealed from the lead guard of her contingent.
“Stand down Emerson,” he addressed the now statue beneath Auraya’s blade. It was then Auraya noticed that Trevor had his sword lodged in the knee joint of a guard’s armour, and Gina had her’s in the armpit of another. The fourth guard had barely advanced, as he looked between his three comrades. “Let them be, and perhaps spend more time training.” His laughter continued as he walked through the gate.
“Taken down by scrawny children,” he muttered between guffaws.
Auraya withdrew her blade after Emerson relaxed, swearing. She turned away, stowed her dagger, and followed the lead guard, not looking back at the grumbling Emerson. She allowed a smirk to linger on her lips as Trevor and Gina caught up to her. Trevor’s sides were heaving from his humour.
“That’s one way to put them in their place.” Gina was only slightly chiding. Auraya glanced her way, spying her mirth.
“Humiliate and knock down a peg,” Trevor barked.
“Well, they’ll regret their actions soon enough. If what they say is true.” Gina’s words sobered them as they looked up at the castle.
On the other side of the gate lay a large fountain in the middle of a wide courtyard, spraying water from various spouts. It depicted a man on horseback surrounded by scantily clad women emptying pots of water. To the left, Auraya saw stables, horses, dogs, carriages and people milling around attending to it all. On the right, she spied a building with several guards outside. Perhaps a barracks. On the other side of the courtyard lay the entrance to the castle. A staircase led to giant dark wooden doors, enough to allow more than five people abreast at once. There were intricate patterns carved into it, and steel had been twisted and looped, to add depth to the patterns. Only one side was currently open. Above the door, the castle seemed to reach for the sky. She couldn’t be certain how many floors there were, but she guessed about six.
The guards and the priest led the way up the stairs and through the door where they were met with a finery they were not accustomed to. The entranceway was huge, with twin staircases leading up in a curved shape. In the middle of the room lay a table with the largest arrangement of flowers Auraya had ever seen. The colours were vivid and alive. The walls had paintings of unknown men and women, and unlit lamps. A few servants stopped their polishing to gawk as they made their way inside. Ahead of them lay a hallway. On the right, a closed set of double doors, and its mirror image lay to the left, although those doors were open. Inside lay a large room, with about twenty people inside.
The lead guard headed for the hallway between the stairs and led the, through a maze of corridors. They only passed the odd servant, otherwise the halls were fairly quiet. A tension began to ripple through the group as they approached their destination.
Finally, they arrived at a set of double doors much like the ones leading from the entranceway. At the far end of the room lay a dais with two chairs on it. One in the middle and a smaller chair on it’s right. The throne. It was large and could probably fit two people. It was carved of the same chocolate wood of the entrance door. The base resembled the trunk of a great tree, leading up to branches for armrests, and leaves made up the back rest. The seat was covered in red velvet. It was a beautiful piece of carpentry. The other chair was similar, but smaller and less intricate.
Standing on the dais was a man in priests robes. In front of him stood about thirty people. Some were dressed in priest’s robes with various trimming colours, others looked like nobility. Auraya recognised none of them. The room itself was much of the same opulence and vibrant colours. Grey stone made up the walls, beautifully carved wainscoting between the high ceiling and the wall, circular pillars with carved bases lined the side walls, ornate windows high between the pillars on the right. At the far end, behind the dais, two huge bay windows shone bright light on either side of the throne. Castle guards lined the walls. The sights upon entering the castle had been somewhat overwhelming, but Auraya pushed the discomfort aside and focused on the man on the dais.
The priest from their contingent had jogged ahead and murmured to the priest on the dais, Auraya presumed he was the high priest. His face gave away nothing as the contingent priest no doubt filled him in on the events of the morning.
The crowd moved to the sides to allow their company to follow the priest to the front. When they arrived in front of the high priest, the guards peeled away to the far walls, only the lead guard remained. The room was filled with the whispers of the occupants. Talk of their clothes, their weapons, their obvious origin. Their comments reflected their displeasure and disbelief. Auraya did not look away from the high priest. He would determine their fate, all others were irrelevant. Nevertheless, Gina and Trevor were there. They would be her eyes.
The high priest kept his eyes on the group, barely settling to engage any of the party with eye contact. His robes were white, like his colleagues, but they had no trimming colour. Enlightenment? Advanced beyond rank? Auraya mused. He was an older man of perhaps fifty cycles or more, with a tightly clipped greying beard, and brown and grey hair, tied in a gold ribbon at the nape of his neck.
He raised his hands and brought silence to the room.
“What is your name child?” He smiled as he as looked Auraya in the eye.
“Auraya,” she said clearly. He nodded, smiled slightly wider and then addressed the room.
“As you are all aware, Priest Truman and Captain Patten were tasked with the important duty of finding the true heir, after yesterday’s unfortunate events. The true heir will always have magical talent, which has not been passed to the late King Hamilton’s two sons. Using the wisdom of the Pair, the crystal has led our contingent to such a person.” He looked at and gestured to Auraya with both hands.
Hearing the words spoken by the high priest himself made the events of the last candle mark more real. A shred of Auraya’s mind was still in disbelief. Trevor’s shuffling and the imperceptible draw of breath from Gina told Auraya that they were feeling it too. Her mind began to work in overdrive as the crowd muttered their skepticism. Auraya reached for her calm, muting the rabble.
The high priest raised his arms once again. He was still looking at her, a kind smile on his lips.
“Auraya,” he said once silence had returned. “Do you possess magical talent?”
“I do,” she confirmed, surprisingly without hesitation.
The silence stretched as he waited for elaboration. Amusement crinkled his eyes and the corners of his mouth when he realised, she would give no more. With a final smile, he gestured to Truman, who looked affronted at Auraya’s reticence. He brought a large crystal, about a hand length long and three fingers thick. It glowed in a myriad of colours. It sat on a red velvet cushion with gold lace around the seam, golden tassels at the corners, and gold thread making swirling patterns on the cushion. Auraya barely restrained an eye roll at the gaudy display. He took the pillow and stepped in front of Auraya.
“Touch the crystal child,” he said with a smile.
“Explain first,” she kept her demand soft, but steeled her face to show there would be no argument.
Truman’s face turned red with fury as he gasped. Trevor quietly chuckled from behind her left shoulder. A woman cried, “how dare she”. The crowd devolved into murmurs of outrage. Auraya ignored them and continued to stare at the high priest. Amusement returned to his features as he raised a hand.
“We must see if you have been blessed by the Pair,” he explained. “Potential heirs are to place their hand on the crystal. If they are the true heir, the burst of light it emits will be blinding. See…” He placed his free hand on the crystal, but nothing happened. He took it away, looked up at Auraya and raised his eyebrows.
His breath remained clear of blue, so she stepped forward and raised her hand to the crystal. As she got closer, it began to emit a pulse of light. When her fingers made contact, she was forced to cover her eyes for fear they melt. She removed her hand after a few moments and took a step back. She recognised the draw of the crystal: magic and blood. It drew a slight frown to her face as she glanced at Gina. She saw recognition in her face too.
The silence was jarring. Looking up at the high priest, she saw traces of bewilderment until their eyes met. It was quickly replaced with the brightest smile so far. After a few beats, he looked around at the room’s occupants.
“As we have all seen,” he looked back at Auraya. “The true heir has been found.” He seemed to pause for effect, but the room remained deathly still. “How old are you child?”
“Sixteen.”
“Then in two cycles,” he began. “One turn after your eighteenth nameday, you will be crowned as Auraya Reevers, Queen of Moralis.”
A splatter of applause could be heard but petered out as quickly as it had begun. The room returned to grave-like silence until the high priest broke it.
“I am sure you must be tired,” he looked to his left and signalled for a smartly dressed man, with slicked black hair and an expectant expression. “This is Thistle Evans. As steward, he manages the affairs of the castle and will get you situated.”
Auraya inclined her head to the high priest and then gave her attention to Evans.
“If you will follow me, your highness,” he gave a short bow and directed her to a door, hidden on the left side of the dais. Auraya gave Trevor and Gina a quick look and then followed. The lead guard – Patten – also followed.
As they emerged into a hallway, chatter erupted behind them. The noise was rude and insulting, so Auraya tuned it out. What could they do? She would be Queen. They would all be her people soon. As their party gathered in the hallway, the closed door dampened the sound of the rabble, and Evans rounded on her.
“I will show you to your rooms and have someone show your friends out.” He turned to look for said someone and attempted to walk away.
“No,” Auraya was feeling a swirl of emotions she was finding harder by the second to contain, so she was not prepared to suffer fools. “Rafe.”
As always, he appeared to her left as she finished speaking. Evans shrieked but was ignored by all. Patten looked briefly disturbed before he masked it.
“We’ve got a lot to organise,” she liked to test him.
“So it would seem,” his grin was sly. “Your highness.” He never disappointed.
“Have you found a suitable place?” The question was a little insulting. His frown and mild revulsion said he agreed.
“West wing. Has more than enough rooms, training yard, dining hall, separate kitchens, vast gardens.”
“How far from the library?”
“The main library is in the south wing. The west wing has its own smaller library.” At the best of times, it was as if Rafe were a clairvoyant.
“Excellent,” Auraya smiled, things were getting interesting. “Tell Tris and Winnie to start packing everything up. Evans here will escort us to the west wing, will begin clearing out the current residents and will prepare some garden pots and carriages to help with the move.”
“Excuse me?” Auraya had been staring at Evans as she spoke. Confusion gave way to consternation in an entertaining slide. “This is extremely improper. Your friends cannot just move into the castle.”
Auraya approached him. “They can and they will,” she said with steel in her voice, expression cold. “You will take us to the west wing, remove the residents and aid me in bringing my kin and their belongings to their new accommodations. We come as a package. If I am forced to live here, then so are they. Do I make myself clear?”
She wondered if she had pushed too hard, too soon. Wondered how her attitude would affect their future relationship, and with other castle staff. But you know what, to hell with everyone right now. Today had been strange and overwhelming. People could just keep their noise to themselves and do as they were bloody well told.
The staring contest didn’t last. Evans acquiesced with a nod. Auraya gave one to Rafe and he was gone.
After some silent traipsing through the maze of corridors, Evans asked the question he had clearly burned with. “How many should we prepare for, your highness?”
“76.” His gasp was enough to draw the corners of Auraya’s mouth up.