Page 19

A woman with startling blue eyes and intricate silver jewelry adorning her golden braids shot to her feet, fury radiating from every line of her body.

Her voice snapped through the sacred space, sharp and sudden.

“So the king would have transported everyone to a new land and abandoned all the history here? All the sacred sites, all the generations buried in Tsashokra soil—he would have simply left it all behind?”

Naya met her blazing gaze. “Yes. That is what he promised his people,” she said simply. “He sees it as a way to instantly return to the former glory of your culture.”

Another Omega nodded slowly, her loose curly auburn hair catching the light as it moved around her shoulders, different from the tight braids most wore.

“I remember him speaking about it,” she said, her expression thoughtful.

“Years ago, when he was visiting the outer districts. He spoke of finding new lands, places where the ssukkǔrian could rebuild without the constant threat of wild magic.”

“That was just talk,” the furious blue-eyed woman said. “No one believed he could really do it.”

The Omega with curly hair turned to face her. “The citizens didn’t take it as mere talk, sister. They believe he can accomplish whatever incredible thing he promises. To them, he is the Voice-chosen king who has already achieved the impossible.”

Naya found herself nodding. “He was making a serious attempt. The resources being devoted to it, the planning involved—it wasn’t empty promises meant to placate his people.”

The admission seemed to subdue the assembly, anger giving way to troubled contemplation.

In the moment of silence, Naya was struck by how removed this community seemed from the pulse of ssukkǔrian society, how little they truly understood about the man who ruled the very region that surrounded their hidden sanctuary.

The woman with the soothing voice leaned forward again, her expression gentle but penetrating. “Tell me, princess, are you seeking a solution only to save your own land? To secure your freedom from King Sy’s control? What is your motivation?”

The question pierced through Naya’s carefully constructed explanations, finding the raw nerve beneath. She was quiet for a long moment.

“There are many,” she admitted finally.

“Such as?”

Naya’s throat tightened as memories she usually kept buried began to surface.

“I carry a great deal of guilt about what happened to Onn Kkulma when I escaped. The people who died, the destruction I caused… that weighs on me.” Her voice grew smaller.

“And there’s guilt about what happened to my youngest sister. ”

“Explain that,” the woman said gently.

Naya closed her eyes for a moment, seeing Lili’s bright smile, hearing her infectious laughter that had filled the palace corridors.

When she opened them again, the circle of curious faces watching her seemed less judgmental.

As she sat in the silence, surrounded by these women who had survived their own magical catastrophe, a realization came to her.

The shifting boundaries of wild magic, the destruction it caused, the way it seemed to hunt Omegas—it wasn’t just happening here in Tsashokra.

“Wild magic in my empire exists in a defined boundary just like it used to here. But that boundary has been shifting the same way it did here generations ago. It caused damage to one area of our empire, and when I tried to fix it...” She paused, swallowing.

“Many people were killed, including my little sister. She was only seven years old.”

The chamber fell into another silence, the kind that honored grief and loss.

“I held onto the guilt about that for a long time,” Naya continued, her words barely above a whisper.

“It impeded my ability to even think about ruling, about helping my people the way I was supposed to. But if I can solve the problem here, then maybe the same solution could work in my land. Maybe I can prevent others from losing their families the way I lost Lili.”

Around the circle, several of the Omegas nodded, their expressions thoughtful. Some had their eyes closed, clearly processing what she’d shared. Others stared into the golden column of light as if seeking wisdom in its brilliance.

The silver-haired elder who had spoken first rose from her carved seat, her weathered hands gripping the armrests. When she straightened to her full height, authority radiated from her small frame like heat from a forge.

“Princess,” she said, voice strong despite her age, “you must understand what you’re asking of us.

” Her eyes, sharp despite their years, fixed on Naya with uncomfortable intensity.

“The king being so close to our territory is already a dangerous sign. We’ve remained hidden for generations precisely because we stay out of regional conflicts and issues. ”

She began to pace slowly around the inner edge of the circle, her footsteps echoing softly against stone. “If we involve ourselves in diverting this storm, even if we succeed in saving Onn Kkulma, do you truly believe King Sy will simply accept mysterious assistance and move on?”

The question expanded in the air like incense smoke, heavy and inescapable. Several of the other Omegas shifted in their seats, unease rippling through the assembly.

“He will not rest,” the elder continued.

“He will come searching for answers. He will want to know who holds such power over the nnin-eellithi , who can manipulate forces that his own council cannot control.” She stopped directly in front of Naya, brown eyes burning with conviction.

“We would represent a threat to him as people who can harness magic in ways he cannot understand or predict. Do you think such a man would allow that mystery to remain unsolved?”

Heat crept up Naya’s neck. She opened her mouth to respond, but the woman her own age leaned forward, interrupting with sharp urgency.

“And what is the alternative, Ttela?” The younger Omega’s voice carried frustration that had clearly been building.

“We sit in our hidden sanctuary while the region burns around us?” She gestured toward the opening above them, where afternoon light poured down.

“We’ve evolved beyond mere survival. This community depends on the stability of the districts for resources, for trade, for the sons we place with families.

If the rest of the region is decimated and returned to what it was like after the first and second waves, how long do you think we can maintain this life? ”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through several of the younger Omegas, while others nodded toward Ttela with visible support. The divide in the chamber grew more pronounced, tension threading through the sacred space like fault lines in stone.

Naya found herself caught between the competing truths, each argument striking with sound logic. Her chest tightened as she watched the community that had seemed so unified begin to fracture along generational lines.

The Omega with the soothing voice spoke into the growing discord, her warm tone cutting through the tension.

“That may be so, but if King Sy had succeeded in his original plan, if he had found a way to transport his people to Princess Naya’s land and establish his empire there, what would have become of us? ”

The question moved through the assembly like a shockwave. Naya watched understanding emerge on face after face, sinking into minds that had been focused on immediate threats.

“We would have been alone,” she continued. “Completely and utterly alone. No districts to blend into, no way of having more children, no trade routes or resources. Just us, hidden in this canyon, watching our society slowly die of isolation.”

The words gave everyone pause. Even the elder Ttela seemed affected, her weathered features creasing with new worry lines. She turned her head toward Oshrun, seeking guidance from their leader.

Silence stretched through the chamber, broken only by the distant echoing from deep passages and the whisper of wind through the opening above. Naya could feel twelve minds processing competing futures, weighing survival against exposure, tradition against evolution.

Oshrun finally stirred in her elaborately carved seat, her amber eyes sweeping the circle with the patience of someone accustomed to navigating complex decisions. When she spoke, her tone carried the measured authority that had held this community together through countless challenges.

“As you can see, princess,” she said, addressing Naya directly while her gaze encompassed the entire assembly, “we are divided on this matter. This decision cannot be made lightly or quickly—too much depends on choosing the right path.”

She lifted her crystal staff from where it rested against her chair, the faceted surface catching light and scattering rainbow fragments across the carved walls.

“We will be discussing this for the rest of the morning, weighing every aspect, every possible consequence. I need to hear all perspectives before making a final determination.”

Her eyes found Naya’s again, warmth softening the formal tone. “We will be adjourning at lur ennen for our midday rest. Perhaps you and I can speak privately then, when our minds have had time to settle and consider.”

The woman Naya’s age shifted forward in her seat, offering a gentle smile that transformed her serious features. “If you’re looking for something to occupy your time while we deliberate, there’s an area where you can observe our young women during combat training. You might find it interesting.”

Surprise flickered through Naya, her eyebrows rising. “You have warriors?”

“Not warriors in the traditional sense,” the woman clarified.

“The training is primarily for self-defense—protection for those who travel to the districts. We cannot always avoid dangerous situations, and our women need to be prepared to defend themselves if circumstances require it, but some do take it as seriously as warrior training.”

The practicality of it struck Naya immediately. Of course they would need such skills. Women traveling alone through harsh territory, blending into societies that might turn hostile if their true nature was discovered. Combat training wasn’t just wise; it was essential for survival.

“Thank you,” Naya said, rising from the stone bench. Her muscles had grown stiff from sitting in the same position, and she was grateful for the opportunity to move. “Thank you all for sharing your thoughts with me. I understand the complexity of the decision you’re facing.”

She inclined her head respectfully to each section of the circle, acknowledging both those who supported intervention and those who counseled caution. But as she walked toward the chamber’s entrance, troubling thoughts churned through her mind.

The Omegas spoke of isolation as protection, but Naya could see the cracks in their ideals. They weren’t truly isolated, they were dependent on the very society they hid from. And worse, they seemed unaware of what a society without Omegas could become.

She’d wanted to voice these concerns, to warn them about the dangers of their current path, but the assembly was focused on the immediate crisis of the storm, not the longer-term sustainability of their society. She would have to raise it later in her private conversation with Oshrun.

Taking a deep breath outside, Naya found herself drawn back to the sounds of children’s laughter echoing from the communal areas instead of the training area.

She yearned for the simple joy she’d found playing with Nnimi that morning, the reminder of Lili, the uncomplicated pleasure of a child’s delight.

After the heavy discussions of political maneuvering and impossible choices, she needed that freedom again.