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Story: Children of Anguish and Anarchy (Legacy of Orisha #3)
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
ZéLIE
O N THE EVE BEFORE we leave for Baldeírik, howls of New Gaīans ring through the vines outside the city center. The high pitch shudders through my bones. Plumes of fire shoot into the night, fighting with the stars.
Mae’e and I wait before the waterfall of New Gaīa, preparing to board one of the two videiras that will float through the city’s canals. When I catch my reflection in the turquoise water, my breath hitches.
I don’t recognize the girl who stares back.
From the moment I left the summit, Mae’e’s maidens have prepared me to rally her people under the midnight moon.
They doused me in crystal baths, soaking me in their glowing waters.
Their nimble fingers wove a collection of white braids through my hair.
They threaded in yellow sapphires and golden strings of pearls.
When my hair was done and my body was clean, a girl arrived in my chambers, the oldest Green Maiden I’ve seen.
She spent the soft arc of the night marking my skin: painting pathways of light in shimmering gold.
Those same marks shine through my sheer robes, studded with sparkling citrine crystals and glistening suns carved from yellow apatite.
The same girl returns with the final piece. She lays a woven web of canary yellow diamonds over my head like a veil.
“You’re a vision.”
I recognize the slow steps of the boy I once knew as the little prince. I turn to find Inan behind me, dressed in royal garb. A new mantle shines over his copper skin, decorated with rays like the sun. The New Gaīans have embraced Inan for his service.
Inan offers me his hand and I take it, allowing him to guide me into the second videira. He stares at me as we wait to leave. He opens his mouth to speak, but another horn rings.
Mae’e’s videira sets sail. I inhale as mine follows. More plumes of fire shoot into the air.
The war procession begins.
The sight of New Gaīa takes my breath away. Mae’e’s people line the canals, dressed from head to toe in red. They match their new sacred hierophant, a vision in deep scarlet skirts. A scarf woven from glittering rubies drapes over her black hair.
The New Gaīans drop to their knees as we pass, heads bowed, lips hushed in prayer. One young girl leaves her mother’s side. She takes a doll of Mama Gaīa from her chest and offers it to me.
The New Gaīans follow her lead, extending blessings throughout our trek. Ripe mangoes. Dry rose petals and sticks of cinnamon. Many offer lit tangerine candles.
Every Lamina follows behind us in the new arsenal of videiras the vineweavers have built as we float through the blessings of thousands. The warriors wear black paint over their faces and bare chests. Crushed ivory marks their skeletons. Thick red lines are painted beneath their eyes.
When we reach the base of Mount Gaīa, Emperor Jorah meets us there. Like his men, tribal paint coats his russet skin. A heavy skeleton mantle sits over his broad shoulders. The emperor shares the unbreakable will in their angular eyes.
Jorah extends his hand to me. Thunder roars above when he takes my palm. I drink in the expanse of his people—the bay of Laminas, the waters of infinite burning candles, the canals lined with red. Vineweavers hang like spiders, circling above our heads.
Jorah steps forward. He stands firm like the mountain behind him.
“ The day has come. ” His low voice amplifies.
“ We face a threat unlike any we have ever known. One that can annihilate our people. Our Mother Root. Our home. Tonight we join together. ” Emperor Jorah raises his arms. “ We pray to Mama Gaīa to bless our lands. Tomorrow, we destroy the enemy! We go! We fight! We win! ”
At Emperor Jorah’s mighty cry, the New Gaīans chant. Their voices reverberate through the mountains.
“We go! We fight! We win! We go! We fight! We win!”
Mae’e raises her hand, and the entire crowd falls silent. She places a palm on Jorah’s shoulder.
“I wish to speak.”
The air doesn’t dare blow as Mae’e takes center stage. The city is so quiet I can hear the echo of her bare feet walking over the mountain stone.
“ I have witnessed our enemy. ” Her voice is steady. “ I have seen the magic they wield. We face a grave battle. One that may cost more of our sacred lives. ”
Mae’e waits for her words to travel to the farthest stretches of her city. The energy around her shifts. The vines start to curl.
“ But the battle we will wage…” A blaze of passion erupts inside her. “ Will ravage their nation to the ground! ”
Mae’e punches her fist into the air. The New Gaīans roar in return.
“ Let us not forget who we are! ” Her diamond eyes sparkle. “ Let us not forget from whose sacred fire we were forged! We are the daughters and sons of New Gaīa! ”
Mae’e is like the very goddess that watches over her temples. Her divine fire passes through the crowd. Her rally stirs her people into a frenzy. Terror burns to the hunger for blood.
“ She has sent us allies! ” Mae’e grabs my arm. I’m not prepared for her to lift it into the air. “ One who carries the power of the storms in her blood! ”
Mae’e turns to me. Her sparkling eyes dare me to speak. I look out at the crowd, and my chest expands with awe. I can hardly believe where I stand, that people would look to me in a foreign land.
“ We will fight for you, New Gaīa! ” I scream in their tongue. The people shout with such force it shakes through the wind. “ We will give everything we have! We will rip through every Skull! ”
“ Death to the Skulls! ” Mae’e releases a battle cry.
“ Morte aos cranios! ” her people scream back.
Their cries for blood stir the lightning in my veins.
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