[ Watashi ]

[ Tomodachi ]

[ Saint Seiya ]

[ Clamp ]

[ Fanfiction ]

When blackbirds sing, it means that rain is near. Whether it's just been blown away by the wind and the blackbird's song is joyful, or whether charcoal clouds are hugging the sky and the blackbird's song is a warning and the portent of dark things to come, I leave you to decide for yourselves once you've reached the end of the story. As for the meaning Gale, Azzure, Afraeil and Rowan give it, well, you're welcome to guess. ^^

The sun was still far from reaching its zenith when Aurelia led me to the mansion’s garden, of all places. On the way, we had stopped in the kitchens so I could get something down my stomach, but the sight of butter and cheese alone had sent my gut knotting and heaving with nausea. It must have shown in my expression, because she hadn’t insisted that I eat more than a few crumbs of bread before allowing me to scamper out of the room. As we exited the inside of the mansion, an icy, unfriendly gust of wind greeted us. Reflexively I rubbed my right arm to smooth the gooseflesh rising on my skin in spite of the woolen shirt I had donned before stepping out of the thermae.

The air was full of the coming of Winter. Snow was riding the breeze, still distant but undeniable. “Here,” Aurelia murmured, and she pushed me toward a grove of old, shabby apple trees. Going along with the impetus, I stepped forward, rising familiar noises as my feet crackled the dried leaves littering the ground. Once I was through the small grove, I spotted a dark figure sitting on the bare stones of a terrace and froze, stealing a glance above my left shoulder.

Aurelia was nowhere to be seen.

Drops of eternity fell from the clouds while I stared at the dark figure immobile before me. He must be meditating, because he seemed to be made of the same stones as the terrace. He was perfectly still, even though the wind was lashing out at him every now and then, and catching into the folds of his long, wide sleeves. He was less then ten steps away, but that short distance was an abyss my mind balked at the thought of crossing. So I waited there, until the wind grew bored and slapped me in the back, pushing me forward.

In the moment I reached his side, Azzure unfolded his long legs and stood up in a fluid motion, not at all stiff after spending the gods knew how long in the chill. The tile blue eyes set on me, and I made myself stare back at him. It was hard to do so, to deny the snake writhing in my insides and the cold, cold fire engulfing my heart. The man standing before me was arrogance and pride; he was indifference and contempt. He was also warmth, and casual cruelty. And he was shelter.

He had betrayed me.

He had abandoned me to a fate worse than death.

He had come for me.

Too late.

Far too late to save anything.

I was rotten. My heart and my soul were rotten. The corruption of my spirit was even perceptible in the stench of my body no amount of scrubbing had been able to suppress. He must know all this. And yet, he had come. He had surrendered me to Flavius. Those tow facts were true. Irreconcilable. Insane. I looked into the aquamarine gaze, and saw absolutely nothing there. “Why?” I asked at last through the ball of needles rending my throat. I could say no more, or the poison filling my being would burst out.

For a while he didn’t answer, as if considering the question. Then he let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “When you requested the Sanctuary’s help, Aurelia carried your plea to the temple of Athena itself. Defying the rules set on all apprentices, be they Aries’,” the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile. “The fool girl went up the great Stairs. Rowan must have intervened to save her stupid apprentice’s hide, because Aurelia did reach Afraeil. And she came back with the high lord’s explicit order to stick to a strict neutrality, forbidding any help of any kind to you and yours. Afraeil went so far as to mention you by name, so that no creative interpretation of his words was possible.” Irony had seeped into Azzure’s voice. While the wind swept his words away, a chuckle escaped him.

I knew all that already. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Despite the mad anger clawing at me, demanding to be let out, I held my ground. I clenched my jaw and waited. Clouds swirled in Azzure’s dark blue eyes, and he added, his tone calm and even, “When you slipped into the garden that night, wounded as you were, I was still Virgo. I let you stay, I had no other option under the orders that had been given me.”

I was still Virgo. I shivered. What did that cryptic sentence mean?

“When soldiers came to my door and demanded to search the mansion,” he continued, unaware of the question in my mind, or of the icy blade of fear it had brought to life inside me, “I could do nothing other than to allow them to, since they had the legitimacy needed to do so. I knew they’d find you. There was no way you’d have had the strength to escape. I also knew that you’d fight them with all you had. You’d use powers that are beyond the grasp and understanding of humanity, odd waifling that you are.” He shrugged one shoulder. “The high lord of the Sanctuary is the representative of Athena, the Goddess’ chosen. His will is her will. Divine interference with the fate of humankind is what the Sanctuary exists to fight. I was Virgo.” The smile twisting his lips was thin and bitter. “I stopped you,” he said quietly. “I bound your powers and they took you away. I let them. I stood by, and I watched as Afraeil had commanded me to upon our return from the Council of Faiths. I watched, to check whether you’d betray us.”

I swayed under the assault of those words. He had watched. I knew enough of him to suspect what that meant. Aurelia could read thoughts and whisk herself from one place to another in an instant. So, what Azzure meant by watching-- “I hope you enjoyed yourself,” I told him in a dead voice. “I hope you got your money’s worth.” Somehow, I managed to keep the laughter that was riding in the wake of those words locked within.

Before me, Azzure didn’t even blink. “It doesn’t work that way,” he replied with a shake of his head. No. No, of course he hadn’t rented a peep hole inside my cell. Besides, he hadn’t known the truth before catching sight of the blood on the inside of my thighs. “I sensed your pain. I sensed your calls to the stars. I sensed the madness coming over your mind. Still, I watched. I waited.” He drew in a breath. “Until the moment when I asked Virgo for one last favor.” The smile on his lips softened when he uttered that name. His name. “She consented. So I called her to me, and retrieved you from your prison cell.”

I called her to me.

A dark, godlike figure, clad in glittering gold.

“Immediately after giving you into Aurelia’s and Cein’s care, I shed Virgo, and sent her back to the sixth House, where she belongs.” A snort escaped him. “For some reason, Aurelia and Cein stayed, even though I no longer have any right to ask them for anything. And Rowan has failed to recall them to the Sanctuary.”

I staggered back, then made myself stop. All that recounting had been told with perfect neutrality. There hadn’t been the slightest feeling in Azzure’s tone, no hint to betray the true import of his words. I had but bits and pieces of knowledge to use, but they were enough. He had shed Virgo.

He had discarded his name.

He had betrayed his goddess, Athena.

He had turned his back on his status, on everything that he owned--everything that defined him.

He had given up the girl in the flowing white dress who haunted the altar of Athena at the very end of the Great Stairs.

He had forsaken the young woman whose purple eyes bore into the soul, the light in them infinitely ancient and wise. Infinitely sad.

He had made himself an outcast.

For me.

Too late. Too late, all of it. The burning of all the bridges tying him to his past, to the place where his roots lay, all for nothing. I couldn’t confront the unreadable, remote flames in Azzure’s aquamarine gaze. I couldn’t face him. With the hesitant, awkward motions of a drunken man, I turned my back on him. It took all the failing strength of my will not to howl at him that he was a fool, and that it was a lost, hollow choice that he had made. What he had rescued was a broken shell, nothing more. I wasn’t worth it. Struggling through the ice encasing my ribcage and its shards spearing my throat, I willed my lips to shape two words.

“Thank you,” I murmured in an lifeless voice without looking at him. The meaningless sounds were all I managed to say. Gritting my teeth against the searing sensation in my eyes, I made to walk away.

A hand closed around my left shoulder and pulled. Its gentle strength was impossible to deny, so I pivoted to face the proud, beautiful shadow standing behind me--no, he was no shadow. His skin was dark, but he shone. He burnt, this high flame who reached high enough to touch the sky. So I had seen him when I had intruded into his garden inside the sixth temple along the Stairs; so I was seeing him now--now that the sixth House was no longer his. I blinked, even as he reached out to me and wiped drops of salted water that were streaking down my cheeks with his thumb. Instead of balking, I leaned into the caress. It was instinct, a reflex of my body which I couldn’t prevent. Slowly, gingerly, he drew me against him, and enfolded me into a careful embrace.

I could feel his heart beat: hard, fasts heartbeats, so harsh that they must hurt. The arms he had wrapped around me were tense, his shoulders stiff, as if he was afraid that I’d shatter into a myriad tiny pieces at his touch. I had lashed out at Aurelia when she had held me. I had almost struck at Macha when she had. I didn’t fight him. I could sense his heartbeats, and somehow that was enough to push back the hissing snake coiling up against my spine. He let out a shaking sigh, and I looked up at him. There was still nothing to be glimpsed into Azzure’s night blue eyes, but the awful tension in his body was impossible to miss.

It was as if dread had gripped him in its claws.

As if fear could have a hold on the likes of him.

A wry smile crawled up his lips. “And here I stand,” he snorted softly, “even more foolish than you, silly blackbird.” So this godlike figure could know human weaknesses. Unbidden, an answering smile came to my mouth, and he bent over me.

The cold snake crushed my spine and dug its fangs deep into the marrow. My whole body stiffened, but I didn’t jerk free. Somewhere, I found the will not to strike at him and flee. “Don’t let me go,” I hissed between clenched teeth, my vision reduced to a dark tunnel, “don’t let me go!”

“It’s all right,” he murmured, and he laid a light kiss on top of my hair. “Hush, it’s all right. I’m a fool. I know the depths of the scars you bear. I know better than anyone else.” He hugged me tight. “One day they’ll heal,” he told me softly. “Even those ugly marks will fade.”

I drew in a shuddering breath, and hooked my left arm around him. Words were crowding my throat, but I couldn’t utter them. I couldn’t free them. I couldn’t let them become reality and bind him to me. So I buried my head in the hollow of his shoulder instead, and breathed in the scent of him. Sweet, spicy, it enfolded me and smothered the stench of my own body. The silence in the garden stretched on, except for angry gusts of cold wind, full of Winter’s coming. At some point, my stomach rumbled. Muted laughter vibrated in Azzure’s throat, and the air he blew out of his nostrils tickled the side of my neck. Gently he touched his brow to mine. “I’m guessing Aurelia allowed you to skip breakfast,” he chuckled.

The aquamarine eyes were so close that I could see the sparks of mirth glowing in them. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I mumbled something unintelligible in response. For some reason, my damn stomach had decided to remember it was empty, and that it didn’t like that. Discarding it from my mind, I focused on the warm, solid body pressed against mine. “Never mind,” I whispered. “Never mind.” One of his hands reached up, and its fingers stroked my hair, combing its unruly locks in slow, slow movements. I closed my eyes. He let the moment last as long as he could, then he pushed me back at arms’ length.

“We’ll have to move out soon,” he told me with a small nod. “In a few days, when you’re ready to travel, we’ll have to leave this mansion. Not that we’re not safe from the Romans,” he added quickly when he caught the brutal shift in my shoulders, “but Afraeil will send someone to replace me shortly.” I looked at the twist of his lips that was more smirk than smile, and at the embers smoldering in his eyes. Once he left this place, there would be no coming back. It was his last link to the Sanctuary.

I didn’t tell him not to do this. I didn’t tell him it wasn’t worth it. It was too late for that too, and Azzure would never have made such a decision lightly. Besides, words and sensations were lingering inside my heart. Warm. Moments I couldn’t deny, that belonged to him and to me. He was true, and I could only try and obey Macha, and be true as well, no matter how hard that would be and how long it would take me. I bit my lower lip, and nodded back at him.

Then we both stepped away from the garden, and went back inside the mansion. We had packing to do, no matter how small, and we had to tell Aurelia and Cein before leaving--after stopping by the kitchen so I could silence the grumbling protests of my stubborn stomach.

“We’re not staying,” Aurelia was saying while reaching for a sizeable leather bag that she held out to me. “The lady Rowan agreed that we could return to the Sanctuary. She knows we wouldn’t have put up with playing attendants to the likes of lord Vassiliades. Nobody could expect us to,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

I took the proffered bag and shouldered it with only a small grimace when the dull ache in my right shoulder blade reawakened. Beside me, Azzure sniggered. “Nobody in their right mind would be expected to bear with Scorpio Vassiliades. He’s an insufferable peacock.” That earned him a glance and a muffled snort from Aurelia. It was hard not to imitate her, but I did so, and focused on the bag hanging against my left side. It contained a change of clothes, a flask of clear water and another, smaller bag full of bread and dried fruits. Emergency rations, Cein had called them. The two apprentices had also emptied the contents of the mansion’s coffers, and badgered us until we took the money. Azzure had refused to even touch it, adamantly opposed to what he viewed as stealing from the Sanctuary.

Aurelia had thrown him a withering look, and then she had gone on to explain in vivid detail all that we were already robbing: clothes, food, drink, the price of rent for lodging and use of the thermae, not to mention the wages of the two attendants that Cein and she were. There had been no denying her, and besides she was right. So, before the dark glint in Azzure’s eyes could bloom into a very sorry fate for Aurelia, I had taken the pouch and settled it into an inner pocket of my heavy travel cloak.

“We’re ready,” the young woman nodded. At sunrise, Cein had left the mansion and Cenabum altogether to purchase a pair of horses we’d use on our journey. Because of his ability to travel instantly from place to place, it had been possible for him to go to the remote city of Lutetia, that was smaller than Cenabum, but big enough to entertain a lively market. Nobody would remember a stranger buying horses, much less tie that action to us. Once he’d be done, he was to whisk the horses to a safe place for us to start on our way. I stole a glance toward Azzure. It must rankle for him to envision traveling in the slow, sluggish normal way. I hadn’t forgotten it was he who had transported us in the blink of an eye from Cenabum to the Sanctuary in faraway Greece.

He had argued against the use of his power, and both Aurelia and Cein had agreed that it should be avoided at all costs. Its use would be noticed by the great fires drowsing in the small temples set as twelve stages leading to the altar of Athena. There was no telling how the high lord Afraeil would react, or what he’d do. We’d be lucky if he allowed Azzure to forsake his order just like that, and to live as all human beings did.

Cein popped into being right next to Aurelia. “You’d better get going,” he grimaced. “The clouds over Lutetia were full of snow, and the wind is blowing strongly from the North, pushing them this way.” Azzure bobbed down his head, and Cein lifted up his chin in Aurelia’s direction. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are,” she shrugged, unimpressed. She held out a hand for me to take, while Cein did the same for Azzure. In the moment her fingers clasped mine--

--we found ourselves elsewhere. Wind enveloped us, powerful, and coming from the North as Cein had warned us. Wrinkling my nose at the charcoal sky, I closed my warm woolen cloak tighter around me. A muffled neigh and the familiar sound of hooves impatiently pawing at the ground drew my attention back to our surroundings.

High walls were encircling us, except for a rather wide entry gate just in front of us. They were stained, these walls, and the adjoining buildings were worse. The barn had lost its roof, and blackened beams were protruding from its walls. What had once been a house hadn’t fared much better. In spite of the mighty gusts of icy cold air, an acrid smell clung to the atmosphere around us, and the mud between the courtyard’s stones was light grey. Gorged with ashes. Blinking, I spun on my heels, and peered at the forest through the gate. The trees were close enough for me to note that they had lost their leaves, but were otherwise unharmed. I released my breath in a shuddering sigh.

“They came to it and torched it on the very day you escaped their prison,” Aurelia said softly on my right. With a start, I turned toward her. Cein was already gone, but she had lingered behind. “I wish we could have done something. It was a beautiful place.”

I stared back at her, at the regrets shimmering in her eyes, and wondered just how hard it was to belong to the Sanctuary. I wondered how painful it could be to watch, and to allow terrible things to happen, to allow for battles, for famines and for slaughter--for hatred and for loss, when you had the power to stop it all. To me, it seemed cruel beyond imagining. Inhuman. At last, I gave the young woman a slow nod. “Yes,” I confirmed, “it was. Don’t worry, though,” I waved her earlier words aside. “I don’t think you could have done anything, short of defeating them all and winning this whole war for us.” Because that was what it was: war. A war between a rising power and old, ancient ones, most of which their human caretakers had allowed to fall into decline. The nightmarish clash in Cenabum was but a single skirmish in a much greater conflict. When my words reached her, she winced, and I wished there was anything I could say to comfort her. It wasn’t her fault, even though it could be argued that she hadn’t lifted a finger to save this small farm at the outskirts of the sacred forest.

She wasn’t the one who had burnt it to the ground.

She wasn’t one of those among our kin who had ignored our urgent summons so they could nurse their false sense of security.

Spitting out a breath, I willed the memory of Ailbhe of Hispania out of my mind. “We’ll be all right,” I told her. “Thank you for your help, Aurelia. Go with my blessing, such as it is,” I added with a wry smile.

I had the surprise to see her give me a deep bow. Straightening, she closed her eyes for the time of a heartbeat, then opened them again. “Your sisters are safe,” she told me. Forestalling my reaction, she lifted up a hand. “I won’t tell you where they are, since you don’t want to know,” she shrugged one shoulder, and heaved out a sigh. “They’re both well, and they know that you’re on the mend.” I gave her a silent nod, unable to speak. Macha and Deirdre were alive. They were both safe. It was more than I had a right to ask for. “It’s been almost two weeks since the Romans came,” Aurelia finished in a quiet voice. “A watcher comes every other day to check on this place. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I hear you,” I replied. “Thanks again.” I blinked.

The young woman was gone.

Spotting the tall silhouette of Azzure on my right, I strode toward him. Halfway to the place where Cein had picketed our two steeds, he had veered off to stand just before the front wall of the house he had once lived into. As I joined his side, I noticed that he had reached out to the blackened stones. His fingers were hovering in the air, less than an inch away from the wall itself. No light was shining in his tile blue eyes. Unmoving, he contemplated the devastation in silence, his face an expressionless mask. Quietly, I secured the bag on my shoulder and did the same, focusing on the chilly slaps of the wind and on the shivers they kept triggering along my spine. On our left, one of the horses whinnied.

“We need to get going,” Azzure stared at me. “Have you decided on a course?”

“Sure,” I nodded. Sustaining his gaze, I went along with the flow. “Through the Liger river, and then due South.” It seemed to be enough information, for he turned away from the wall and strode off to where our horses were waiting, and growing more impatient with every moment that passed.

Safety lied West and South, although there was no telling how long it would last. Perhaps the one certain way to escape the Christians was to cross the great Rhenus river far to the North, and go deep into German territory, beyond the Empire’s borders, but I had discarded that idea at once. I had discarded West also, because that was where I had sent Macha and Deirdre. That left only South. We’d follow that direction, through the woods and keeping to roads as small and little-traveled as possible until we had passed below the level of Avaricum. Then we’d veer West, until we reached the great ocean if we could. After that, well, we’d have to figure out something to do with our lives.

The steeds Cein had purchased for us were sturdy geldings, both dapple-grey. Most likely they were brothers. They were built for strength and endurance, not speed. While reaching out to my steed, I avoided a half-hearted attempt at biting off my fingers, and grabbed the smaller gelding’s chin in a firm but gentle grip. “I know,” I told the unhappy horse, “it’s cold, and you hate standing still in that wind.” His ears flicked this way and that, and then he snorted, but his eyes had lost most of the wildness spooking them. “Good boy.” I patted his neck, then checked the saddlebags. They were packed with supplies: more clothes and food, both for us and for our steeds. Once I was done inspecting their contents, I pivoted to find Azzure waiting for me. His own gray was calmly watching us, an air of infinite patience about him.

“You’re sure?” Azzure’s gaze met mine. “We could probably stay somewhere close and outsmart them. But once we leave this place, there’ll be no coming back. Ever.”

A smile twisted my lips, and I stared back at him. There was no judgment in his eyes, no sign that he wanted this or that. “I’m sure,” I nodded. It was possible he was the one who felt the most lost, the most stranded. Gaul was the land of my birth, while his was so far away I couldn’t even imagine the distance separating us from it. “Staying here would make sense only if I could organize some kind of resistance movement, but this battle is lost, as you warned me beforehand,” I said with a self-derisive smirk. “I won’t remain here and watch the fall of what I love,” I added, struggling against the urge to look away. “I don’t have that kind of strength. And even if there was still a way to fight...” I folded my lips and bowed my head. The wind blew my words away, then at last I heaved out a sigh. “I’m sick of killing. Sick of pain and death.”

“That’s good.” The tone of his voice was kind. Knowing. “Let’s go, then.” With that, he vaulted atop his horse, and I followed suit. As soon as he felt my weight on his back, the gray started off toward the entry gate, prancing, and I gave him the reins, smiling in spite of myself.

Alternating between trot and a slow canter, we reached beyond the sacred forest, and beyond the territory under the jurisdiction of the Roman governor of Cenabum. We skirted around villages, however small. The fields were empty, all of them, and we didn’t encounter any patrol. It looked like the disease that had gripped the North hadn’t spread this far South. I could only hope that the barren fields simply meant that the farmers had decided to let the land rest during Winter, not that all their crops had failed and that they had had to root them out of the earth so they couldn’t contaminate those that were still sound.

When the sun set, we looked for a place to stay the night, but the area we had reached was deserted. So we pushed onward, until at last we stumbled upon a weirdly shaped hill. The strange land formation seemed to almost fold upon itself, thus creating some sort of natural roof which would shelter us from wind and rain somewhat. Above us, the strong Northern wind hadn’t abated, and the clouds it was pushing our way were getting more threatening by the moment. Even though we did have flint stones, we decided against lighting up a fire. Its light would be spotted from miles away, and it’d be sure to draw attention: no traveler in his right mind would have stayed outdoors for the night if he could help it in this time of year. Only outlaws or fugitives would be desperate enough to do so.

We made a quick meal of bread and dried fruits, and fed the two grays with a small share of grain they gobbled up in no time. I blessed Aurelia and Cein for the second time in the day when I found blankets in one of Azzure’s saddlebags, both for us and the horses. Once they felt the warm, heavy fabric on their broad backs, they let me settle them so they’d make a screen between us and the open plain. Then we lied down as well, hoping to get at least a semblance of rest, although true sleep would probably elude us. Hugging my blanket, I closed my eyes.

Whispers.

Moans.

Howls.

Ghosts grasping my limbs.

The reek of human waste, everywhere.

A pitiful croak that was supposed to have been a scream woke me. When I realized that a hand was squeezing my left shoulder, not so strongly as to pin me down, its fingers darker than the night, I gasped in a breath. The shards of glass tearing at my throat meant that the pathetic sound had come from me.

A nightmare. I shuddered. Just a simple nightmare, memories that had lurked out of the shadows to poison my dreams. Nothing more. “I’m here,” Azzure said softly, his hand still on my shoulder. Heavy. Warm. Alive. “I’m here,” he repeated. Through the frantic drums of my heartbeats, I looked at him in the darkness that only a pale moon dared challenge. There was a weird light in his eyes, like hesitation or worry, or a bit of both.

“I’m sorry.” I willed a wan smile to my lips. “I’m all right. I wish I had thought to ask Aurelia for more of her sleeping draught.”

That triggered a snort, then: “Here,” he told me, and he sat up against the fold in the ground. Then he brought me alongside him, my head lying upon his lap. “Sleep,” he added, “I’ll keep watch.” When I struggled to get up, to protest it wasn’t fair, he pushed me down. “It’s not as if I needed much rest. I had no intention of sleeping anyway.” He didn’t look tired in the least, so perhaps that was true. He was warm and solid against me. Strong. “Close your eyes,” he growled, and a smile crept up my lips. I fought some more against the drowsiness taking hold of me, but eventually I yielded and obeyed.

On the following day, we got back to true roads, and let the muddy, traitorous forest trails behind. We had passed beyond the Carnutes country to follow the border between Turoni and Bituriges land. Shortly before the sunset, we reached the small town of Cabris, on the road from Avaricum to Caesarodunum. There were a few inns, but we didn’t stop by any of them. The risk of being noticed this close to Carnutes territory was too important, the more so with someone like Azzure around. On the outskirts of town I selected a little farm with a barn set next to its main building. It had a grove of shabby yew trees growing in the back of its yard.

Teutates was smiling upon us, for the farmer and his wife were used to sheltering travelers in their barn for a price more reasonable than that of a room in any of the town’s inns. My request didn’t surprise them in the least, and they agreed after only a moment of haggling. The barn itself was dry, and well protected from the wind. It was full of hay and straw, and our two geldings were all too happy to roll over in the straw before feasting on the hay. I made a mental note to give the farmer an extra for all that the grays would gobble up before morning, then I turned toward Azzure.

It was already very dark inside the barn. Unable to help myself, I grimaced. It wasn’t so much the prospect of having yet another meal of bread and dried fruits that bothered me, but I’d really, really have liked to have a little bit of light. “Too bad we can’t make a fire.” I heaved out a quiet sigh.

Next to me, Azzure scoffed. “We don’t need to. Look.” Even though I couldn’t get a glimpse of his face, I knew he was smiling.

A glowing point dispersed a little piece of night, soft.

Another followed it.

And another.

They were coming from a window set high on the barn’s far wall. Slowly they spiraled down toward us, to shape a bracelet of tiny lanterns around Azzure’s left wrist. He glanced my way, and this time I did see the smile illuminating his face. “It’s beautiful,” I told him. “It looks like the Chain of Lugh, but gentler.”

He chuckled at that. “They’re stars, but not those you draw upon. Those shine too bright.” I released my breath in a contented sigh. The little lights were safe. They were magic, a touch of the magic of the world, and it was good to see it still existed, to feel it warm my face in spite of the absence of a fire.

“My, reduced to petty tricks to fool the darkness!” My heart skipped a beat, even as the small lights dancing around Azzure’s wrist abruptly blazed with raw power, so strong that they blinded me for a moment. “How the mighty have fallen!” Despite the scorn dripping from it, the sound of the voice was musical and perfectly pitched. Familiar.

Next to me, Azzure stood up in a slow, deliberate motion. “Why have you come here, Afraeil?” he asked, the tone of his voice flat and cold. In the same time, my eyes grew used to the harsh light of Azzure’s bracelet of stars, and I saw a tall figure step toward us, his long pale hair cascading down his back and his amber-gold eyes set on us.

He was holding a rose in his right hand.

A white rose.

“Please,” the high lord of the Sanctuary snorted. “No need to try and impress me, unless you’re aiming to frighten out of their wits the poor couple who sheltered you?” The radiance of the bright stars waltzing around Azzure’s wrists dwindled somewhat. “Ah well,” Afraeil sighed. “That’s better than nothing, I guess.” He shot me a quick glance, then refocused on Azzure. “I’ve come to settle this whole mess.” A smile crept up his lips. There was nothing friendly in it, or in the flames smoldering in Afraeil’s gaze. “You’ve put me in a rather delicate position, and I want as little fuss as possible. I want the easy, perfect solution to all this.”

“Which is?” Azzure snapped. Power kept rising around him, swirling in the air and sparking the night, so horribly strong that it threatened to crush anything in its path. Clenching my jaw, I stood up as well. Perhaps I could lend him some of my strength. It might be the Chain of Lugh or the Sword of Nuada would answer my call this time.

“You’ve lost this war.” I stiffened. Afraeil was staring right at me, all of a sudden. All trace of mockery was gone from his tone, and an unreadable mask had descended upon his face. “You lost it three centuries ago,” the smile frozen on his lips softened, “all of you, when the Romans were mad enough to make a martyr out of a man, and to allow his followers to weave a fantastic myth around his life. There’s nothing,” he went on in an eerily gentle voice, “nothing you can do to prevent this from happening. The shadow of Christianity will enshroud the world, bit by bit. It will do so, because it echoes people’s fears and hopes, and gives those all back to them a thousand fold. It will win their hearts and their souls, because it places them at the center of everything. Because it gives them the answers they want to hear. Because it makes promises everyone dreams of, and nobody can check. Still,” he drew in a breath and I shivered, refusing the urge to hug myself when I realized that the kind undertone in his voice was sorrow, “one day its veil will lift from people’s spirits. Humanity will again open its heart and its eyes. One day far, very far away from now. In the meantime, your people will have to bow and adapt.”

I tensed violently, and I’d have snarled my refusal, but for Azzure’s hand closing upon my left wrist. A dark light flickered in Afraeil’s gaze, and then was gone. “The Sanctuary knows you, storm child,” he said in a very quiet voice.

I had to laugh. My hands closed into tight fists, I spat out a breath. “Is that so?” I jeered at his stupid claim. “Well, I don’t.” I gave a wild shake of the head, and discarded memories of the lady Siena and of my lady mother. “Many seem to, but I don’t. And I no longer care about mysterious hints or stupid interpretations around my name.”

“You don’t know.” Uncertainty flashed in the amber-gold gaze. “You no longer care.” Doubts were gliding alongside his words, but he waved them aside. “Be that as it may. I guess that what matters is what your people will do from now on.” His eyes met mine and held them. “They’ll have to become storytellers and singers. Their knowledge of herbs and of the touch of other worlds will have to recede, to be restrained and kept a secret. Your abilities to glimpse the workings of fate will have to be hidden in tales and myths.”

“I know!” I hissed, unable to hear more.

“You know?” He smirked. In a moment, sarcasm had filled his voice and was spilling from him like poison. “You know, and yet your refused to flee when you still could? You know, and yet you plunged your people into a hopeless battle that killed so many men and women who didn’t have to die?”

I stumbled back, blinded by pain while those words knifed through my heart. It was true, all that he was saying. True. If I hadn’t been stopped, I-- “Steady.” The gentle whisper was Azzure’s, and he had passed an arm around my shoulders, supporting me.

Shielding me.

I bit back the sobs crowding my throat. From the depths of my soul, I found the strength to confront the merciless judge standing before me. “This is my land,” I told Afraeil, high lord of the Sanctuary. “Here are my roots, my essence. I live to preserve the balance, because people can’t see it and I can. Because I can feel the forests, the rivers and the clouds in my bones, and in the blood coursing my veins. The Christians don’t know this, can’t sense this. In their blind, greedy quest for power, they’ll destroy the world.”

“It may be,” he nodded at me. Serene. “If it takes too long for people to wake up from the lure and illusion they weave, then yes, they will.” He gave a shrug, then stared at me steadily. “So you won’t bow? You won’t diminish and pass into shadow?” Afraeil’s voice was soft. Very, very soft.

In silence, I looked back at him, and at the pure white rose in his hand. Then I smiled. “I don’t know.” The echoes of his earlier accusation kept resounding inside my mind. The truth, all he had said. The horrible truth. Ugly. If Flavius hadn’t somehow broken my spell, I’d have killed them all. I’d have unleashed Death upon my people. My land. I gave a slow, single shake of the head, and willed my voice to be firm when I said, “All I know is that I’m a shadow. A pathetic, broken shadow, sick of death and pain, and of the absurd lust for power that rots the hearts of men away.”

The high lord of the Sanctuary bowed his head, then faced us again. “If that’s so, I may have an easy way out of the mess your stupidity dumped upon my shoulders,” he peered toward Azzure. “You’re coming back,” he told my companion, “and that’s not open for discussion. You’re getting your ass back where it belongs: inside the sixth House. And I suppose that since, were I to get rid of that cumbersome problem,” he flicked a thumb my way, “I’d have to fight you and defeat you before doing so, I have to let you bring him along.”

“Afraeil!” Azzure growled, a glowering light swirling in his tile blue eyes.

The high lord of the Sanctuary burst out laughing. “Well, Virgo the uncaring, the untouchable now bears his own burden like a mere mortal, hindered by flaws, by emotions. I’m amazed.” Then, sobering, he glanced my way and added, “I suppose we can find some use for you. Perhaps it would be fun to have you keep participating in the Council of Faiths.” He pursed his lips. “ I don’t think I want you to teach apprentices how to develop this Sight you have, but perhaps it might be useful if you told me more about it,” he mused, then he confronted the both of us. “So, what will it be?”

Azzure gave me a quick look. His eyes didn’t betray anything of his thoughts. He’d follow me. I knew that without needing him to tell me. He had a chance to regain the part of himself that he had shed for me. What else mattered more? I couldn’t envision life beyond the next week. I didn’t know whether I’d ever regain the will and strength to fight the Christians. I nodded at my companion.

“Aye,” Azzure told the proud, spiteful high lord of the Sanctuary.

“Good.” Afraeil grinned at us. “Then let’s be away from here.”

Azzure’s arms around me tightened its hold, and a bright explosion of light blinded me.

In the blink of an eye, we evaded Winter’s reaching grip.

The sun was shining over the Sanctuary, but even here the touch of Winter was perceptible: the shadows of mountains and boulders had grown longer and thicker, and the sun’s rays seemed to be as many arrows of light spearing through gorges and rows of scattered columns of marble. Even though the day had dawned less than an hour ago, people were up and about. I watched them, little ants hurrying in the valleys below, while walking down the great Stairs from the sixth temple set alongside them.

Upon our stepping into the Sanctuary the day before, the high lord Afraeil had left us on the threshold of Azzure’s home. The House of Virgo was its name. Virgo, which seemed to be much, much more than Azzure’s name. A part of his essence, the other half of his soul perhaps. When I had belatedly remembered the two horses we had abandoned in a barn in faraway Gaul, Azzure had chuckled, incredulous laughter sparkling in his eyes. Heat had colored my cheeks as I had realized the foolishness in my fretting over the two dapple grays left in the middle of a treasure vault of hay and straw, cloaked in thick, warm blankets. The farmers would find them come morning, and they’d care for them well. That question being answered, Azzure had led me to a room of his home that was supposed to be used by an apprentice he’d choose to be his heir. To this day, he hadn’t found anyone worthy, and he had no intention of truly looking for one any time soon, so I was welcome to it.

It had been both easy and difficult to settle in the small room. I didn’t mind the austere, Spartan feel of it, and besides that could be remedied easily enough. It was situated in the same building Azzure lived in, and when I closed my eyes I could sense insubstantial tendrils of warmth enfolding every stone and every object inside it. I could feel his presence in the air and that was good, but he was close and yet far. The uneasy sensation in my heart was more than a little crazy. A part of me kept looking for Azzure’s tall, lean figure, but I had felt almost giddy with relief when he had shown me to a room of my own instead of his.

The night had been peaceful, thanks to a drink I had recognized as Aurelia’s sleeping draught, that Azzure had fetched from the first House along the Stairs, where the lady Rowan and her two apprenticed lived. Dawn had risen to find me surprisingly refreshed and at peace, not to mention famished. The insistent growls of my stomach had drawn Azzure’s attention, and sparked more laughter in his eyes. As Teutates would have it, there was absolutely no food stored in his House, and our breakfast had consisted of the same bread and dried fruits we had eaten on the road. Once we were done, he had left his home for a meeting with his peers he wasn’t looking forward to, if I was to go by the somber flames smoldering in his gaze. Just before his departure, I asked him where I could get supplies, and he sent me down to the valley, where most of the Sanctuary’s people lived. Kieran, Afraeil’s main advisor and friend, had some kind of an office there for everyday needs, and he’d get us what we needed.

On the way down the Stairs, I narrowed my eyes and tried to get a glimpse of Rodorio. The small village lied right beyond the high peaks that drew the Sanctuary’s borders in the North, but I couldn’t catch sight of it. All I managed to see were dark reddish spots upon the rocks and an occasional glint of light. Those couldn’t be the white houses of Rodorio, no matter that their roofs were made of beige tiles, or a ruddy shade of brown. With a snort, I gave up and jogged down the Stairs without meeting anyone or anything on my way.

There certainly was a logic in the way buildings and training grounds and thermae were scattered all over the valley. There had to be a structure in the puzzling maze I wandered through, but I sure couldn’t discern it. Nobody stopped to stare at the stranger that I was and challenge my right to be here. With nothing urgent to do, I meandered between houses and wells dug deep into the hard rock of the mountains.

“Gale!” I froze, and my heart lurched in my chest. Spinning on my heels toward the right, I spotted someone running toward me, a hand waving in the air to get my attention. The newcomer was tall and broad-shouldered. With a pang, I recognized Roshan, whose name was also Pegasus, even as he stopped beside me. “I heard that the high lord brought you back with the lord Virgo yesterday night,” he said by way of introduction. “I heard about what happened in Cenabum,” he added, his tone grim and his mouth drawn in a thin line. The light in his eyes was a flat one.

I stared back at him, at the tension underlying every line of his body and at the stiffness of his shoulders. Then I allowed myself a sigh. “She’s safe,” I nodded at him. “Macha is safe, and so is our little sister, Deirdre. Aurelia told me so, and I believe she knows what she’s saying.”

“Thank the goddess.” Roshan’s face lit with a smile, then he grimaced. “Stupid apprentices,” he spat, “they think they’re Athena’s favorites just because their master is one of the Twelve. They could have told me!” He waved his anger aside. “Never mind.” He refocused on me. “What about you?”

I gave a shrug. I didn’t know, and I didn’t feel like knowing the answer to that. With a helpless smile, I replied, “I’m looking for Kieran’s office, but I’m lost in this maze.”

Roshan gave me a look, then he snorted. “It’s easy. See there, the slight slope leading to that vertical cliff?” he pointed toward a peak on our left. “Well, on top of that slope, you’ll find the houses you stayed in during the sessions of the Council of Faiths. Kieran’s office is set more or less halfway up that slope. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” I gave him a short bow. “I’ll be off then.” I took off before he could reply and steer the conversation toward plans and the future.

“Take care, Gale!” his voice called after me. I didn’t stop. There had been no anger in that last exclamation, and that was good. Roshan cared for Macha, probably much more so than was wise, and he bore me no grudge or if he had, he no longer harbored any resentment toward me. And that was good also. It was a little bit like forgiveness.

As I reached the beginnings of the slope Roshan had indicated, I stopped. The place was indeed familiar, and I could get my bearings now. The way to Rodorio lay further to the left, through a narrow passage between high cliffs that was almost impossible to notice before you entered it. On impulse, I trotted down that way. After all, there was no need to bother Kieran. I could get supplies on my own. That would spare me looks and questions from someone who must also know what had transpired, and who would have given me warnings I’d have refused to hear. Warnings I had convinced my people not to heed.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lord of storms?” Right before me, a shadow appeared out of thin air, and I skidded to a halt, barely avoiding a painful collision.

The lady Rowan’s grey eyes were watching me closely. I blinked, then gave a shake of the head. “I suppose the weird title is the current fashionable joke around my name,” I smiled at her, a twist in the line of my mouth that was almost a grimace. Her answer was a snort, and I had to fight the urge to resume my course without giving her another moment of attention. “I’m bored with this game,” I said to nobody in particular, then I met her gaze squarely. “I’m going to Rodorio for supplies.”

She arched an eyebrow up. “You’re going nowhere. Rodorio is off-limits to you, as is anything or any place outside of the Sanctuary’s borders.”

Cold hit the pit of my stomach. “Am I a prisoner here, lady rowan?” I asked her in a tight voice. I couldn’t win past her, no matter how I tried. As unimpressive and average as she looked, she was a formidable woman, and power was exuding from her lean frame. She was one of the Twelve, and like Azzure she shone brighter than all the stars in the heavens.

My question was met with laughter. “Not that I know,” she shrugged, “but Afraeil has set this constraint on you as a condition to allow you a place here among us. A very reasonable limitation even Virgo had to accept since it applies to all who aren’t sworn to the goddess Athena, unless we grant them special leave to go beyond the borders of the Sacred Domain.” It was likely true, and if it was, it was logical and fair enough. It meant that I wouldn’t be able to get to Rodorio, and that I’d be forced to give Kieran’s office a visit. I released air from my lungs in a sigh.

“Ah, there you are!” I started, and realized that the lady Rowan was peering intently at a shadow that was detaching itself from the cliff before us. The shadow became a man, tall and slim, and gorgeous as he pushed back the hood that had served to hide his face. The amber-gold eyes of Afraeil, high lord of the Sanctuary, widened at the sight of us. Before he could speak up, the lady Rowan set her hands upon her hips, and stated in a tart voice, “You’ve been indulging yourself once again!”

He grinned at her. “Not in the least. I was checking the situation in Rodorio, and visiting some of the villagers who were in dire need of the blessing of Athena, as well as of the healing that goes along with it.” The low fire in his gaze belied the light humor in his tone. I stared at him in silence, remembering Irene, and all that she had told me. The Sanctuary watched over the village and its inhabitants. Its high lord walked among them to share the light and power of the Sacred Domain. The baker’s daughter loved the nasty, contemptuous figure standing before me. Grudgingly I admitted that she must have a reason for the absolute, unconditional love that went beyond adolescent infatuation with a man who looked like a god of old. “We have some nasty customers in Rodorio,” Afraeil said all of a sudden, his voice soft. “They’re playing dangerous games, requisitioning rooms and trying to impose their own order of things. There are too many of them. We won’t be able to overlook this much longer.” There was anger, raw and frightening, in that deceptively gentle whisper. Beside me, the lady Rowan held her peace, her face a mask.

“And what are you doing here?” The amber-gold eyes had darted toward me. “Don’t tell me!” he scoffed. “I can’t even rely on Azzure to explain clearly the rules you must follow. Well, he’s Virgo, so I should have expected as much. Azzure!” he called out in a booming voice. “Get your butt here, Virgo! Now!”

At once, the dark, familiar silhouette of Azzure materialized right next to me. “What do you want?” he asked Afraeil without a trace of amenity in his tone.

The high lord of the Sanctuary pursed his lips. “I want you to take responsibility for that whim of yours,” his chin lifted up in my general direction, “is what I want. Don’t let him interpret words or the absence of them. Make things clear, no matter how little you like that. And,” he hummed, bringing his right forefinger against his lips, then went on, “get him to the foot of Star Hill, and send him up there.” Beside me, Azzure tensed, and his gaze darkened. “In daylight, stupid Virgo!” Afraeil mocked him. “Make sure he goes up, then comes down before sunset. And do it today. I’m interested in the results that will yield.” With that, he strode past us, then paused. “Here,” he added in an afterthought, “your reward for ascending Star hill.” He tossed a small pouch my way. I caught it, and checked its contents.

It was full of Irene’s almond cakes.

The soft sound enfolding us was music. It was peace, as was the vast plain of sparkling blue spreading before us. The ground beneath our feet was sand, its color the palest shade of yellow. It sloped down beneath the impossibly clear waters in an infinity of tiny rolling hills. It was the sea, and it came tickling the shoreline in small waves that were the source of the melody enveloping my heart. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered through the lump in my throat. “Thank you.” Azzure didn’t say anything, but simply hooked an arm around my shoulders, and brought me close. It was the first time I could truly see and feel the sea. I had glimpsed it from a distance on the two times I had come to the Sanctuary before this, but I had never gotten a chance to venture close.

When Afraeil had left us, I had expected a boring lecture on the rules and laws of the Sacred Domain, but Azzure had shrugged off the high lord’s order as easily as I would have a kitchen chore. I’d figure things out for myself, I’d remember rules by stumbling into them, and he’d see to it that I come to no harm and do not blunder too badly. Then he had asked me what I wanted to do. The answer had been easy enough, and he had accompanied me since this place lay beyond the Sanctuary’s borders.

There was no normal access to the sea within the Sacred Domain, no beach. Its only opening on the water was a cursed, damned place where darkness held sway. So Azzure had warned me away from there, and taken me here instead. He had stubbornly refused to explain what was so wrong or dangerous about that one path that led to the sea. Eventually I had let the matter drop. There’d be time for unveiling the Sanctuary’s mysteries later.

Leaning over me, Azzure nuzzled at my hair, his touch light and gentle. My gut clenched violently, and I balked. At once, he released me. “Gale,” he asked, “what is it?” Embers were glowing in his eyes.

There had been nothing but tenderness in the gesture, kindness. I knew that. Through the frantic beating of my heart and the wavering light in my eyes, I told him, “If you touch me, if you come too close, you’ll feel it. You’ll smell it. I--” I looked away, and spat out the revolting truth. “I stink. The stench of corruption clings to me, has clung to me ever since I was locked in that cell.” I bit my lower lip. “It just won’t go away. I don’t want you to smell that.” I smiled.

“I won’t,” he murmured, and he wound his left arm around my neck, leaning over me until his brow touched my right temple, “because you don’t. You smell of apples in the rain,” he added, his whisper so soft it was barely audible. “Look,” he pushed me back and made me face the deep blue immensity before us. “Look at the sea. Open your eyes and feel this holy land all around us. Does it shudder in revulsion? Does it recoil from you in disgust?” In spite of myself, I obeyed.

Right in front of me, the sea was blue, clear and sparkling with sunshine. Its waves were licking at my feet, like mischievous spirits. The mountains looming behind were a presence strong and yet not daunting. Their shadow was warm. The rising tide was playing with the smooth sand of the beach, the music of their peaceful dance enfolding me in a mantle of serenity. “No,” I drew in a breath. “No, it doesn’t.” I glanced up at my companion. “I’m a fool.”

He scoffed at that. “That much is correct.”

Perhaps it was nothing more than an illusion of my mind, a trick, or a lingering curse. The world around me certainly didn’t seem to perceive the rotting stench of my body. Maybe in time I’d stop sensing it as well. Discarding the whole thing with difficulty, I took a good look at the shadows of the mountains lengthening on the beach, and heaved out a sigh. “You’d better show me this Star Hill. The sun is well past its zenith.”

Another sigh echoed my own, coming from Azzure. “Curse Afraeil and his stupid orders. This could have waited.” He shook his head. “No use complaining,” he snorted. “Let’s go.”

I left the beach reluctantly, but then I could always ask Azzure to accompany here another time. I could even ask the esteemed high lord of the Sanctuary, as an added reward for my giving him a hand at taking glimpses into what might be. The way back inside the Sanctuary and then to our destination was rather short. As we reached the start of stairs that much resembled those leading up to the twelve Houses, I craned up my neck and swore.

The mountain towering over us was even higher than that on top of which was erected the gigantic statue of the goddess Athena. The flight of stairs was wide at the start, but quickly it turned into a narrow path with steep steps along what was little different from a vertical cliff. “And he expects me to go all the way up there?!” I spat. I could see no end to the wretched thing.

“He does.” Azzure’s mouth was drawn in a thin line, and the expression on his face was a closed one. “Don’t take risks. Be on your guard. If anything weird or frightening happens, if you feel any hint of anything threatening, turn back and come down at once.” The tile blue eyes met mine. “Star Hill is a dangerous place. There, the high lord of the Sanctuary goes to get a glimpse of what is written in the stars. It’s a place of chaos, where Time’s grip upon the world falters. Madness is lurking in the shadows of its altar. Whatever it gives has a price.”

The light swirling in his gaze was harsh, dark. For a moment, I sustained it, then I nodded. “I’ll remember your advice.” Then I dragged in a breath, and started the ascent.

It took me forever to reach the top. When at last I stepped onto what looked like a terrace, I was panting, and my heart was playing a mad drums solo inside my chest, even though I had been careful to adopt a slow, steady rhythm. The stairs had left me with the parting gift of a bruise on the right knee after I had stumbled over a particularly steep step. Bending down, I closed my hands upon my thighs and closed my eyes. For a while I focused on nothing other than dragging air in and out of my lungs. Once I no longer felt that I was going to drop to the ground in the next moment, I straightened.

Around me, the light of day was waning. I wrinkled my nose at the sky. Now that I was here, I wasn’t going back down until I was finished with what Afraeil wanted me to do. There was no way I’d go through the ascent of those stairs again. I took a look at my surroundings, and noted that the top of the peak had been flattened. An altar had been built on the leveled space. Relatively small columns were drawing a circle around a quite sizeable round table of marble. That must be where the star-reading was done. In slow steps, I walked toward it.

It was logical for Afraeil to ask me to do this, but it bespoke a lack of mastery over the Sight I couldn’t help but find strange on his part. Perhaps it was because the Sanctuary didn’t truly understand the nature of the gift. To the people living here, it seemed to be all about harnessing power, controlling it in an absolute fashion. The Sight didn’t work that way.

A violent gust of wind pushed me forward.

Freezing in my steps, I braced against it, and drew a sharp intake of breath when I heard whispers in the wind’s folds. Again it slapped me, and the whispers grew into voices. Azzure had been right: this place was dangerous. The fabric of the world was too thin, and the balance was so fragile that it seemed to be on the verge of breaking. The spirits realm was pushing against the tattered curtain that was its border. I had better get this over with fast, and then get the hell away from the small altar. Besides, what was I supposed to do? It would be madness to start a Seeing trance here and now. Around me, the wind was now howling in rage. Staggering, I laid the palm of my right hand upon the table of marble.

The wind shrieked.

*****

Men and women kneel down. They’re wearing clothes of coarse fabric. They bow their heads, and murmur a prayer. They kneel before the image of a woman. A servant of god, a holy woman who died in the service of the one god of the Christians. She’s a Saint, and her name is Birghid.

She’s a goddess, and her name is Danu.

She’s the land, the grass, the forests and the mountains.

She’s the rivers and the torrents.

People look up at the statue, worship blazing in their eyes. They believe. They believe the lie woven before their eyes. They no longer know the goddess hidden in the folds of the fabrication the Christians call a Saint. There was a time when some of the old people remembered, but that was all so many years ago.

They’re long dead.

And while people enjoy the tales told by bards in front of a crackling fire in Winter, the stories they listen to are just that: legends. Myths. They no longer see, no longer hear, no longer retain even the tiniest bit of the old lore. And beneath their feet, above their heads and all around them, the fabric of the world is unraveling.

Slowly.

Slowly.

*****

The small, glaringly-lit room has no windows. It’s well below the ground. Its walls are stained by traces of a blackened, viscous fluid. There are chains set in the stone, a table in the middle of the room, and tools: pincers, knives, pokers. There’s also a bucket of metal inside which embers glow an angry shade of red.

The door on the far side of the wall opens. Three men are coming down narrow stairs. One of them is dragging an aging woman by the thinning mane of her graying hair. With a grimace, he flings her to the floor, and the other two chain her up to the wall. She’s a criminal, this woman, a murderer of souls. She’s a witch. She remembers small pieces of the ancient herb lore, and she uses what little she knows to help women exhausted by ceaseless pregnancies, women who can no longer decide when to bear children, and who should sire them.

She thwarts the almighty, infinitely benevolent will of the Christian god: that men and women come together only to reproduce, and that they have a great many children, so humanity’s numbers, and the numbers of the one god’s worshippers will grow and grow. Endlessly.

The old woman knows that this is madness. She knows the land can only bear so much. She knows the fields can only give so much. She knows the human body can only hold on for so much. So she helps women. She terminates the pregnancies of those who ask.

She’s a murderer.

Worse, she’s a thief of souls. Her last crime was to give a woman in labor a draught so she’d survive the pain of giving birth to a dying baby whose life wouldn’t have lasted more than a moment. The draught helped with the pain, and it took the child’s doomed life in the process. So, when the Christian priests stormed in the room to stick his aspergillum between the pregnant woman’s legs, all the way to her womb so he could baptize the child, it was too late. The child’s soul will forever wander in limbo.

Such is the Christian god’s love. Such is its law for the spirits of all those whose lives aren’t sworn to his name before death takes them.

Thus, the pitiful wretch of a witch will pay.

She’ll suffer.

She’ll repent.

She’ll embrace the Christian god’s infinite love.

Then, in obedience of the divine law and will of the Christian god, she’ll burn alive.

*****

Strange arrows of stone pierce through a forest so vast it seems to encompass the world. Green is the master of this alien, faraway land. Men in shining armors of steel wade through the woods on tired horses. At last they reach a clearing, and the mystery of the arrows of stones is revealed. They’re pyramids, weirdly narrow pyramids with steep stairs in the middle of each side, leading to their tops.

Frightful ceremonies take place there.

Lives are torn out of sacrifices.

The harsh, demanding gods of this land are as cruel as the beautiful forest which covers it.

When the men and their horses step into the clearing, they’re spotted by villagers who fall to their knees and bow low before them. They’ve never seen a horse: there are none in this distant country beyond the infinite ocean.

The villagers believe that their gods have come to walk among them. The leader of the riders lifts up his right hand and indicates they must halt. He reaches under his breast plate, and holds up a shining cross of silver inlaid with jewels. Benevolently he smiles upon the kneeling villagers. He’s familiar with the routine, now. Quickly, he spots the necklaces and bracelets of gold these people wear, and his smile widens.

His nod gives his men the signal that the slaughter can start.

For the glory of the Christian god, the women will be raped, and the children as well. Then they will all die as martyrs, and find eternal joy in the Christian god’s heaven.

Oh, and all the gold will go to help all the charity works undertaken by the Christian church, of course.

*****

A howl pierced through the dusk, that wasn’t the wind. I staggered back, until I reached the edge of the terrace. Behind me was an incredibly long and steep flight of stairs. Another step, and I’d fall to my death. It was better than to know, to see and to feel the things that would be. Doubling over, I fell to my knees and retched all the contents of my stomach. During a long time, I stayed like that, immobile, until well after all my body could heave out was bile that burnt my throat and my mouth.

It couldn’t be.

It just couldn’t be.

No matter how broken and weak I was, I couldn’t allow what I had glimpsed to happen. I stood up. It was insane, and it was doomed to fail, but those thoughts were discarded by the screaming storm roving inside my soul. My heart hammering inside my chest, I flung myself down the stairs.

I ran.

Blind to anything other than the mocking images of the horrors that the future held, I ran.

A shadow appeared in my field of vision, darker than the falling night, right before me. I crashed into it headlong, but it didn’t give way. It was soft and yet unyielding, this shadow. I should know it. I was past caring. I pushed myself away.

Arms embraced me from behind, stopping me, and I fought them with all I had. When their hold didn’t break, I snarled, “Let go! Let go! I must stop them! I must!” Still the lock of those arms didn’t falter. I looked up at the stars, which had started to twinkle into being in the sky.

“Hush.” I gasped in a breath when the sound of that voice registered in my mind and I remembered him--remembered his name, and the warmth of him, of his breath caressing my neck. “Breathe,” Azzure told me when my whole body quivered in his arms. “Breathe,” he repeated. “Your death will change nothing. Fate doesn’t belong to you.” I gave a wild shake of the head, and twisted in his embrace, struggled with all my strength. I struck and kicked back, savagely, but his grip on me never wavered. “The future doesn’t belong to you,” he whispered urgently, “it belongs to them. Stay with me.” He touched his brow to the top of my skull, and I went limp in his arms. “Stay and watch. Wait.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, in the voice of this powerful figure, of this bright, bright flame. This time like the one before, it was again as if he was terrified, as if he could know fear and anguish. “Let them walk along the path they carve for themselves. Let them trudge through all their mistakes. It’s the only thing we can do, and it’s the most horrible, cruel thing of all.”

Sobs shook me, silent, tearing at my throat. The pain crushing my ribcage was unbearable. I couldn’t go on, not like this, not knowing this. Death was better. Madness.

Light glided up toward us.

Light, a glowing mantle of stars which gloved the stairs before us, and rose to enfold both Azzure and I. Warm, soothing. It touched my skin. It touched my heart and my soul. It forced the mad grief back. “What--” I gasped, “what is it?”

Against my back, Azzure was standing very still. “Athena.” I shivered when I heard the reverence and infinite love in his voice. “It’s the goddess Athena.” His gaze was set on something distant, right in front of us--on the top of the mountain flanked by the great Stairs climbing through the twelve Houses. On impulse, I followed it. In a heartbeat, my vision blurred, and the range of my perceptions shifted brutally.

Then I saw her.

It was as if less than three steps separated us. She was standing on the parvis of the huge statue of Athena. She was a young woman in a flowing white dress, and both her arms were spread horizontally. Her right hand was holding a scepter of gold. She was the source of the soft, gentle light. It was flowing from her like a pure mountain stream. Her eyes were closed tightly shut in concentration. All of a sudden she opened them, as if she was aware of me. Her purple gaze met mine.

Full of sorrow.

Full of love.

There was a rend in my soul. There was a sickness rotting my heart away. Loneliness was tearing at my spirit. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want that in any of her own.

In anyone.

She knew the horrible truth hidden in the many folds of the insane wind that shrieked around Star Hill. She knew, and yet she’d watch. Humanity was its own master. It was free. She wouldn’t step in. She was power. Her people were power, and when they walked the land, they sent shivers through the world. They could whip fate aside. They could take matters into their hands, and be the same as the evil they had fought along the ages. Christianity was a human faith based on human fears and wishes, a human matter and thus it belonged to all of humankind. Not to the gods of old. And if humanity chose to turn its back on its ancient roots, then so be it.

The land would go on, even if humankind didn’t wake up from the illusion that was fast ensnaring it.

The world would live on, even if humanity destroyed itself in the end.

“Damn you, what are you doing here at night?!” The furious shout broke the spell, and the vision of the young woman vanished in a moment. It was then that I realized that Azzure and I were standing on one of the steps halfway down the stairs leading up to Star hill. And the one who was climbing up to join our side was none other than Afraeil, high lord of the Sanctuary. “What are you doing here at night?!” he growled, glaring at me.

Black laughter shook my shoulders and spilled from my lips, thick and sticky as blood. “Doing your bidding, my lord.” I bowed with a flourish. The madness had released me from its clutches, chased away by a young goddess’ purple eyes and the grief shining in them. But the images were still there, as were the knowledge and the tight knots twisting my insides.

“I thought you’d bring the whole place apart,” the high lord of the Sanctuary snorted, “all that for a fate you were already aware of.”

“Afraeil.” The low, warning voice of the lady Rowan reached us even as she popped into being right next to us. “Stop.”

Unheeding, Afraeil sneered. “I told you before, and I’m sure even Azzure told you: the age of the gods, the age of your blood is past and gone! The time of humankind has come. The world is moving on, and you won’t change that. You no longer belong. You’re obsolete.” The dark, dark mirth in his tone was unmistakable, and scorn was glinting in the amber-gold eyes, glinting bright to hide the clouds swirling underneath.

She knew it, the young woman who wore a goddess’ mantle.

She knew the truth that contempt and spite served to deny.

Something like a grin twisted my lips, and I snarled, “Keep your lessons for yourself, why don’t you?! You need them much more than I do. Keep your lectures until such a time as when you’ve resolved your own issues and dealt with the loneliness poisoning your heart!”

The light in his gaze never wavered. Jeering, he retorted, “You don’t know anything, brat. You--”

“Enough, Afraeil!” The lady Rowan snapped, her grey eyes darkened by an emotion I couldn’t name. “He’s right, and you know it,” she added softly. “What matters is that no harm was done here. Let’s get away from this forsaken place.”

“Unlike you, I have no choice.” Afraeil cut her off, rounding up on her. “I told you before: I am Pisces, and I am the poison of my roses. This is who I am. Nobody could share my days. Nobody would be strong enough!” Pain and bitterness were underlying the tone of his voice.

“That,” the lady Rowan whispered in the night, “isn’t true. I’m more than strong enough to bear with the likes of you.”

“Really?” He mocked her. “How would you know, you stupid, ugly she-ram?”

A light flickered in the lady Rowan’s eyes, somber and unreadable. Then she smiled, and snapped her fingers.

Two fields of red roses were flanking the Stairs upon which we were standing, just above the twelfth House. The lady Rowan had whisked us all here in the blink of an eye, and what she intended to do-- In slow, deliberate steps, she left the steps of stone and strode into the field of roses on our left. Around us, the wind rose.

Petals spiraled up in the air, and started dancing a lazy jig around the lady Rowan. Beside me, Azzure made to go toward her, but Afraeil lifted the right arm horizontally in a halting signal. “No,” he said in a toneless voice. “Let her be.” The amber-gold eyes were watching the lone woman, intent. Bending down, she closed a hand around the stem of one of the myriad red roses, and slid her palm upward, uncaring of the sharp thorns. Then she straightened, and went farther afield.

Blood was dripping from the right hand hanging at her side.

At last she stopped, and bent down again. When she straightened, she was holding a pure white rose in her wounded hand. Afraeil’s eyes went very wide, and a strange light glowed in them. He waited, his hands closed into tight fists at his sides, and his body rigid, like a bow about to break, while the lady Rowan made her way back to us.

“Is that proof enough?” she asked him, a sad little smile hovering on her lips. Then she held the flower out for him to watch or take.

Afraeil let out a shuddering sigh. “Drop it,” he said, and she obeyed. Then he took her hand in his, and brought it to his lips. Gently, he kissed her lacerated palm. “You’re a stupid,” he gave her a soft smile, “moronic she-ram. And you’re ugly as sin,” he drew her into his arms, “although not to me.” He wiped moisture from her eyes in a caress. “Never to me.” Tucking her head under his chin, he added with a snort, “And now that you’ve made me a fool in front of the worst two idiots of the Sanctuary, I suppose I’m stuck. And I suppose we’ll have to make a lot of little Pisceses, and maybe an Aries or two to make the goddess happy.” He glanced at us, and a mischievous glint lit his eyes. “And if they ask nicely, perhaps we’ll give these two a little Virgo as well.”

Unbidden, heat rushed to my cheeks, which made Afraeil laugh. I looked at him and at the lady Rowan, and pain knifed through my heart. On impulse, I walked away into the night. It took Azzure less than a heartbeat to catch up with me. “The garden,” he said. “You’re sleeping there tonight.” I gave him a startled glance, and wondered where that had come from. Stubborn flames were lighting his gaze, which meant there would be no gainsaying him.

With a sigh, I leaned against him and nodded, refusing to think any longer.

Lightning was zigzagging among the fast unfurling clouds, swirling from one to the next in a never-ending tryst. There were storms in Winter, of course, but they rarely involved the fireworks usually dedicated to the Summer months. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the snow decorating every single branch and twig of the oak trees surrounding me shivered. Lightning speared down from the sky. Thunder roared in my ears in the heart beat that followed. And snow poured over me like rain, cold and wet. I coughed, and--

--blinked. It was Winter almost, but I was lying upon a bed of small, beautiful white flowers. A thick, warm blanket had been spread over me. Again, thunder roared, very close. “Azzure!” I blinked one more time, and rubbed at my eyes. The urge to yawn was overwhelming. Stretching my arms and my back gave rise to almost no pain in my shoulders blades. I laid the palm of my left hand upon the ground, and pushed myself up into a sitting position. Azzure had settled himself against the smooth trunk of one of the twin Sala trees on top of the diminutive hill at the center of his garden, less than two steps away from me. The pale light of the rising sun was splashing over him like a cloak. He was beautiful, I couldn’t help thinking. So beautiful the sight of him took the breath away.

Belatedly I noticed the blanket neatly folded by his side, and heaved out a sigh. Likely he had gotten little sleep during the night, if he had slept at all. He did this so he could watch over me, so I could feel safe and be free of the nightmares that kept haunting me. He said that he had little need for rest, and when I looked at him I was forced to admit that it was probably the pure and simple truth. Nevertheless, it couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t allow myself to remain a dead weight like I was now. I couldn’t be a burden on his shoulder. Once more, thunder roared. “Azzure!” The booming voice called again. “Damn you, show yourself!”

“Good morning,” Azzure nodded at me, unheeding of the ruckus on the other side of his garden’s doors.

In spite of myself, I yawned. “Good morning to you too,” I replied, my voice still thick with sleep. Then thunder roared yet another time--it wasn’t thunder, I realized all of a sudden. It was someone pounding on the double doors.

“Virgo!” And by the sound of it, the one who was there was growing angrier with each moment that passed.

I couldn’t suppress a smile. “How long has he been at it?”

Azzure shrugged one shoulder, but the glint in his eyes belied the indifferent mask on his face. “A while. Half an hour, maybe. You were deeply asleep, and you looked peaceful. So I decided that whatever it was could wait.”

“You’ll end up worse than I.” I rolled my eyes skyward. “Let’s go see what he wants. He’ll end up chopping off those doors if we don’t.”

That triggered a snort from Azzure but he did stand up in the same time I did. We exited the garden through a concealed door. I took a minute to don a new set of clothes, then rejoined Azzure in the main hall of his House. No sooner had the sound of our steps started echoing between the high columns of marble, that Afraeil strode toward us. Taking in the glowering light in his eyes, I pursed my lips. The high lord of the Sanctuary was in a foul mood indeed. “If you have trouble waking up, I can buy you a whole poultry and have you lodge it in your gardens,” he said in a tart voice.

My stomach rumbled. “Have you ever heard of breakfast?” I grimaced.

“Later,” he snapped. “I need you.” My heart skipped a beat, and I wondered whether he meant to question me concerning my experience on Star Hill but he made a negative gesture of the right hand. “No, not that, although what I’m going to ask is probably going to be as unpleasant.” Turning toward Azzure, he added, “Those fools are planning to take over Rodorio, to see if we’ll react. I can’t let that happen, so I’m going to confront them. I want you to watch from a distance, and show yourselves when I tell you to.” The amber-gold eyes met mine. “Gale,” he said, and I started at his use of my name, “I’m going to use you. I need you to understand that. You’re a piece on my game board, and you move as I tell you to. You don’t take any kind of initiative. You do not think. You do not speak, unless I instruct you to. It will be hard and maybe even cruel, but it’s necessary. With luck, your presence at the right moment will be enough, and you won’t have to talk to them.” He heaved out a sigh. “I need you to remember all this, and to keep your wits about you. No matter what. Can you do this?” he asked, in deadly earnest.

For a moment I stared back at him in silence, and weighed his words. This was no laughing matter. He was talking of confronting the Christians who had taken up residence in Rodorio and who kept badgering the villagers for information on the Sanctuary. During months, they had requested an interview. They were growing bolder, and if they got what they wanted--no. Afraeil would never let them. He would never allow them to get even a glimpse of the young woman who lived at the top of the stairs. And if he thought my presence could help in deterring the Christians, then he could use me like a pawn, and welcome. I gave him a firm nod of the head.

“Good.” He smiled. “Remember that. When it’s done, I’ll treat you to breakfast, and you can gorge yourself on almond cakes. Azzure,” he peered at my companion, “be insufferable, aloof and uncaring Virgo on this one, and help the blackbird standing by your side.”

“As you wish,” Azzure bowed, his voice calm and steady. Unconcerned.

“All right”, Afraeil bobbed his head. “Let’s do this.”

In brisk steps, he led us down the Stairs and toward the narrow passageway that led out of the Sanctuary toward Rodorio. There were few people already on the training grounds: it was too early for that. Apprentices were lining up to get the to the wells dug into the rocky ground at the edges of small groups of houses, wearing one or two huge buckets. I could only hope they wouldn’t have to go too far or clamber up steep slopes with those once they were filled. When we skirted along one of the hamlets, the smell of freshly baked bread teased my nostrils, and made my mouth water.

Afraeil entered the passageway alone. We watched him disappear between the high cliffs, then Azzure took me up hidden stairs that were carved into the rock face. Once the rather steep ascent was done, we didn’t have far to walk: where the narrow path below meandered left and right, we could go in a straight line. It took us a few minutes to reach our observation post, which consisted in a natural bench in a fold of the mountain, with openings like rends into the rock. As we sat down, Azzure’s lips curled up into something that wasn’t a smile. Leaning down toward the closest opening, I took a good look on the valley below as well.

Afraeil hadn’t yet arrived, but the welcoming party was already waiting. The Christian hierarchs were a dozen, all robed in purple, and they weren’t alone. Scores of Roman soldiers were set in a semi-circle behind them, their red cloaks flapping with the breeze. I hissed softly between my teeth. They had brought a full division with them, as if they intended to lay siege to the Sanctuary itself. “Where is he?” That shrill whine rose up to us with stark clarity.

“There’s still a bit of time, your grace.” I gripped the rock hard, until my knuckles went white, and bit my lower lip. The troops’ commanding officer removed his helmet to bow to the religious hierarch, revealing a mane of blonde hair. “It shouldn’t be long now.” The man looked up at the sky to check the position of the sun. Before his hand could reach his brow and shield his gaze from the light, I got a glimpse of pale blue eyes. I swallowed back the snarl crawling at my throat. The commanding officer was none other than Flavius.

“What’s he doing here?” I hissed at Azzure.

“I don’t know.” The light in the aquamarine eyes was dark and cold. “All I can tell you is that the governor’s third son was nowhere to be seen in Cenabum during the weeks of your imprisonment.”

Weeks. My mind shied away from that word and what it implied. It didn’t matter. Flavius was here, and all of a sudden Afraeil’s warning made much more sense. An invisible breeze sent shivers through the field of Roman soldiers, and in the same moment Afraeil strode out of the passageway with the calm, lazy gait of a lord touring his domain. That was exactly what he was doing, and though the Romans couldn’t know this, some took an instinctive step back. The uncertainty that swirled in the Christian hierarchs’ eyes had no root other than the quiet assurance and power that were exuding from every single motion of Afraeil’s lean frame. My heart pounding in my chest, I watched the high lord of the Sanctuary stroll his way down at a leisurely pace. Even as he was coming to a stop, I glimpsed something shining in his hair above the left ear. Dark. Bright. Creasing my brow, I strained my eyes to get a better look at it. It was a flower, a black rose set like a jewel or a comb in his mane.

In silence, Afraeil confronted the army standing before him. It must take courage to do this, no matter how powerful he was. Grudgingly I admitted that part of the cold spreading in my gut must be for him, for this spiteful man who was more complex than anyone I had ever met. A man the lady Rowan loved enough to risk her life to prove it to him, as well as to overlook the scathing bite of his constant scorn.

“Welcome,” one of the hierarchs smiled, and oily curling up of his lips that did little to give him a friendly look. The man didn’t seem to realize how absurd it was for him, an utter stranger to this land, to bid Afraeil welcome. “We’re well met, lord...?” he left that question hanging.

Afraeil gave him a look, then he snorted. “My name is unimportant.” Scanning the troops deployed before him, he pursed his lips. “Welcome, you say. Indeed. This is an impressive welcoming committee. One might almost think you stand here defending land that belongs to you from some invading army or other.” The high lord of the Sanctuary was smiling.

“Oh, no,” the same man shook his head, flustered. “Not at all,” he blabbered. “It’s just a precaution, a safety measure. You see, even though some of our representatives have been here long, they were always on their own, but recently we came across documents--”

“Documents?” Afraeil interrupted him, his voice soft.

“What are you?” Another hierarch lifted up his chin. “What is it the people in that small village protect with their silence?”

Silence followed the question much more dangerous than the men facing Afraeil knew. At last, he shrugged one shoulder. “What if I told you that we’re a withering old cult living out its last days in peace and solitude?”

Uneasiness flashed in the two foremost men’s gazes. “I’d say you’re walking a thin line.” Flavius confronted Afraeil, a knowing light darkening his eyes. “The laws of the Empire state that all religions must be duly declared and recorded with all the details pertaining to their traditions, rules and ways of worship, not to mention financial means, of course.” A cold smile hovered on his lips. “You’re registered as a mighty guild of traders and merchants present everywhere in the Empire. In the same time, there are archives concerning the cult of a goddess of old in this place.”

“Are there?” Afraeil asked in the same soft, soft tone. Then he shook his head. “And what gives you the authority to come here and demand answers?” He went on, his voice barely above a whisper. “What makes you think you can settle in Rodorio and act as if you owned the village and its inhabitants?”

Flavius scoffed. “The Roman army is the arm of the Emperor, his tool to maintain law and order.”

Afraeil heaved out a sigh. “What makes you think you have the authority to come here?” he repeated the question.

Flavius blinked, taken aback, and one of the hierarchs stepped forward. “The Emperor has entrusted his advisors with the management of all questions of faiths. That edict was passed recently and, consequently, all documents of the imperial archives were released in our care. We’re here as imperial advisors, to check whether the archives tell the truth, to check whether or not you’ve organized a secret council of faiths that excludes Christianity, for what dark purposes we can only guess at.”

Afraeil’s shoulders shook, and bitter laughter escaped him. “Your emperor is a fool who can’t even hold the position of neutrality it’s his duty to hold. And you’re worse,” he scorned them, poison filling his words. “You speak out of fear and ignorance. Out of greed and lust for power. The others are no better at those last two things, but at least they know.” Blowing air through his nostrils, he sobered, then added in a very quiet voice, “You demand a place you should know the very essence of your faith bars from you. You don’t want to belong, you want to conquer and dominate, and you’ll stop at nothing to achieve your goals. You kill and maim, you rape, all in the shadows of course,” his smile widened when indignation and outrage smoldered in the hierarchs’ eyes, “masked behind the blinding, radiant love of your one god.”

“Lies!” The one who had come forward yelled. “Lies! Abominations! Criminal slander spread by barbaric pagan cults! Show us proof if you have it, and we’ll severely punish any who brought harm to a fellow human being!”

Afraeil crossed his arms over his chest. “If you insist.” The amber-gold eyes flicked upward, toward our observation post, and Azzure laid a hand upon my right shoulder.

“Brace,” he whispered, even as light blinded me, and we found ourselves in the shadow of the narrow passageway. I drew in a deep, steadying breath, then stepped out into the sunlight, flanked by Azzure.

Flavius’ eyes went wide, but he didn’t make a move. He didn’t say anything. My jaw set, I confronted him in silence. “Here,” Afraeil reached out to me, and his fingers gripped my right shoulder, their hold strong and strangely reassuring, “stands the proof that your hearts are rotten and evil. What you cannot assimilate, you break and you destroy. If you need to hear the atrocities this young man endured, he’ll tell you. If need be, he’ll even show you the marks on his body. But then, you could also ask the proud commanding officer standing beside you for confirmation and added details.” Heads turned toward Flavius in sharp motions, and he took a step back, unable to help himself. I looked into the wildness in his gaze. I looked into the sudden turmoil of his soul, and held my ground. I held my peace, and didn’t yield to the almost overwhelming urge to close my fingers upon the sacred weapon the breeze was holding out for me to take. “I see it won’t be necessary,” Afraeil nodded. “Good.” His gaze was set on Flavius.

Then, pivoting to face the Christian hierarchs, the high lord of the Sanctuary said, “As to the matter which brought us here, you will leave this place and never come back. You will hold your peace, and destroy all the documents your stupid emperor gave you, thus breaking the centuries-old trust between the Roman empire and us.” One of the hierarchs opened his mouth to protest. Before he could utter a sound, Afraeil unfolded his arms and made a broad, sweeping gesture enfolding all our surroundings. “In all the ages of the world,” he told them, “there has been a covenant between us and all the powers that rule over humankind. These mountains and the village of Rodorio are off-limits to all. This land and all who live on it obey no laws other than the ones issued by the goddess or her high lord. We abide by our own justice, and bow to no outside authority or power. Per this covenant, we are part of no empire or kingdom, or nation. We aren’t even truly part of your world. This is the way of things, and it will remain so.”

“Brave words,” Flavius hissed, his eyes glinting with hatred. “But we could march and annihilate you here and now,” he gestured toward the soldiers still poised in their semi-circle formation around us. He’d do it. He was a heartbeat away from giving that command. It was in the mad flames drowning his gaze. Extending the left hand at my side, I reached out to the wind.

A dark-skinned hand covered mine, the pressure of its fingers not quite strong enough to make me release my hold on the insubstantial blade I had drawn from the breeze. Afraeil’s amber-gold eyes darted toward us, then he refocused on Flavius. A chuckle escaped him. “Please, try to do so,” Afraeil taunted them all. “You’ll be doing me a favor. Try to do so, and you’ll free my hand. We will rise.” The smile that came to his lips was icy. Terrible. Before us, faces drained of color, and fear gripped the hearts of those who had thought themselves in control mere moments before, inescapable. “We will obliterate you from the face of the Earth. All of you.” The smile on Afraeil’s lips widened into a feral grin that uncovered his teeth. “Now, go, leave this place. I give you until sundown to flush these mountains of the soldiers you’ve littered them with. After the sunset, your lives will be forfeit.”

For an instant, it looked as if Flavius would fling himself at Afraeil, but one of the Christian hierarchs reached out to him with a shaking hand and touched his left arm, shaking his head. In silence, they turned their backs on us and withdrew. In a slow motion, I bowed my head and released the Sword of Nuada with a shuddering sigh that dissolved in the wind. The only sounds that disturbed the frightening atmosphere of quietness that had choked the place was the shuffle of feet and the clangs of swords and spears against shields.

“Well,” Afraeil nodded once they had disappeared from view, “that went better than I expected.” Glancing down at me, he smiled. “I think I owe you breakfast, and a share of Irene’s almond cakes.”

The sun was sinking behind the mountaintops, painting the sky a myriad shades of red. From my watching post on the parvis of the sixth House along the great Stairs I could discern black spots, darker than the lengthening shadows, slithering through narrow passes. The Roman army was withdrawing as fast as such great numbers could. It looked like they’d manage to be away from the mountains just before the end of the deadline Afraeil had given them. It meant that they believed him. It meant that something in the emperor’s archives betrayed if only a fraction of the terrible power drowsing in the Sanctuary.

They’d leave, and never come back. The Sanctuary would become a refuge, an island free from Christianity’s clutches. The people of Rodorio would be safe. I looked at the now faraway river of blackness streaming out of the mountains, and heaved out a sigh.

From behind, the sounds of light steps reached my ears, even as Azzure came to stand beside me. His eyes narrowed, he peered out at the fleeing army, a smile hovering on his lips. “Just in time,” he mused, “ah well.” The sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon.

I glanced at him, at this dark, godlike figure basking in the last rays of the sun, and I felt my heart go out to him. He was here, and the memory of this morning’s confrontation faded from my mind, retreating before him. “Do you think that what Afraeil said is true?” I asked him quietly.

“That a time of lights will come, and that it will spark to life in the land of your birth?” When I nodded in silence, he shrugged. “The future is ever-changing. You can never be sure, but if Afraeil told you do, he must be reasonably certain. He wouldn’t lie to you on this.”

No, he wouldn’t, and that tiny flame of hope was an anchor, a gift I’d never have thought Afraeil capable of giving--would care enough to give. But then, he was more, much more than met the eye. Refocusing on the now nearly invisible army in the distance, I smiled. “It’s strange, I don’t feel so happy at the Christians’ failure. I don’t hate Flavius so much, now that it’ settled. I feel almost serene. It’s very weird.”

Arms wrapped around me from behind, and Azzure rested his chin on top of my head. “That’s because you no longer allow the memory of him to claw at your soul, because you’re learning to let go,” he told me, the words vibrating in his throat against the back of my head. “You’re healing.”

I blinked. He might be right. There were embers smoldering in my heart, but the raw fire had dwindled. I no longer burnt with its flames scorching every fiber of my being. Perhaps that was why I hadn’t yet smelled the stench of corruption on my skin today. And just perhaps-- On impulse, I twisted in his embrace so I could face him. Then I kissed him.

The aquamarine eyes widened, and he started returning the kiss. My gut clenched, even as my heart did a harsh, brutal lurch in my chest. Azzure froze, then he released me. His gaze met mine and he said in a soft, soft voice, “We can stop. Now. Any time when you need to.” I shivered when I saw the infinite tenderness in his eyes. He meant that. He’d stop even in the middle of love-making if I wanted him to, even though it would be unfair and it would demand that he deny himself, his own need.

“We won’t,” I told him. “I’m not letting you stop.” I smiled through the wavering light in my eyes, and banished the queasiness in my stomach from my mind.

I felt warm and safe, if only a bit sore. I’d have stayed as I was during all eternity, but light was splashing over my face, undeniable even though I kept my eyes closed tightly shut. With an almost inaudible sigh, I opened them to find a stray ray of sunlight enveloping me, coming from the window on the right. Judging from the oblique trajectory it used to reach me, dawn must just have come. I drew in a deep breath. The warmth I was feeling was coming from the blanket spread over me, and from a dark-skinned arm wrapped around my waist, which was holding me close to someone else.

For a moment I closed my eyes again, focusing in the sensation of Azzure’s skin against mine, on the slow, rhythmic rising and falling of his chest against my back. Then I rolled over on the bed--

--and fell.

“Hey!” Arms caught me, just before I could land sprawled on the cold stone floor, their grip sure and strong. “What do you think you’re doing?” Azzure chuckled while pulling me back against him.

“Falling from your bed, obviously,” I snorted back at him.

He gave me a look. “Obviously.”

With a loud sniff, I pouted. “The damn thing’s too narrow. We need another one. A very wide one.”

“Are you moving in?” the light in the tile blue eyes was unreadable. It was a sham, and a foolish one at that, but that was who he was. I nodded at him, and he heaved out a sigh. “Then I guess I’ll truly have to get a wider bed since you want one. What else can I do?” he asked with mock dramatics. “I’m yours,” he added. Softly.

It was a sappy declaration, and probably one of the sappiest I had ever heard, to boot. The painful lurch in my heartbeats was good. The lump in my throat and the searing sensation in my eyes were good. I could do worse, and be even more foolish than he had been. It was easy. “I love you,” I told him. Very easy indeed. Once you had behaved like a kid moonstruck by his first love, it was important to regain a semblance of dignity. So I dragged in a breath, and asked, “Do we have to get up at once?”

“No,” Azzure smiled, “unless you want to eavesdrop on Rowan and Afraeil snuggling in the House of Pisces.” The little flames dancing in his eyes were laughter.

I looked at him, and distantly wondered when my heart was going to burst. “Then hold me for a while,” I told him. “Just hold me.” He did so. He pulled the blanket over us and I nestled close to him. “I love you,” I repeated in a faint murmur, because I was a moonstruck fool. “I love you.” Because it was true, and because the third time would bind my words to ethereal rays of sunshine forever.

Azzure whispered words of his own in my ear and I kissed his shoulder, eyes closed.

At peace.

End.

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