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niara

The ritual chalice shook in my hands, its contents sloshing alarmingly as I raced up the steep and rocky incline. I could neither afford to waste a drop nor could I slow my pace. Nerves made my breaths come too quickly. That, plus the altitude, was making me lightheaded.

To my right, the twin suns nearly embraced as they sparkled over the Aurelian Sea, but the sheer drop from the mountain path to the water stole much of my enjoyment of the view.

The packed earth of the trail was soft and crumbled with my every step.

My foot slipped, and a shower of pebbles cascaded over the side, making my heart stop.

I paused for a moment to catch my breath, but I didn’t have time to waste. I could not be late.

The delicate crystal chalice, inlaid with precious multicolored seaglass gemstones, was a vital element of the Day One ceremony.

If anything happened to it, or if it didn’t make it into High Priestess Valya’s hands before the dual eclipse began.

.. I couldn’t even contemplate the consequences.

All the forbearance the High Priestess had shown me thus far would certainly dissolve, and then where would I be?

I hugged my body closer to the mountain, willing my nerves to settle and my hands to stop shaking.

Tradition dictated that the chalice be carried half full of waters from the Aurelian to the Obsidian Oculus, the sacred site of the Day One ritual.

I had been given this auspicious task, and I could not afford another failure.

Rounding the final bend before the cavern’s entrance, I was ready to breathe a sigh of relief when the light was blocked by two tall figures stepping in my path.

The man and woman both wore dark armor inlaid with gold etchings that seemed to absorb all light.

The man’s skin was a deep copper, while the woman’s was closer to my own dark ochre.

But both of them had hair that was the red-gold of a newly lit flame. Ember Fae.

“May the flow be upon you,” I said, bowing my head in greeting.

I’d only rarely ever seen an Ember Fae before, though they ruled the land of Emberglade.

I’d been born and raised in Tidehaven, a Water Mage city.

However, the Obsidian Oculus was not only sacred to us; the Fae also held the site dear.

More than one war had been fought over access and rights to what to outsiders was little more than a cave inside an active volcano.

However, seventy-five solars ago, a peace accord had been struck.

Given that Water Mage and Ember Fae holy days did not coincide, we now shared the Oculus, albeit with guards from both races stationed around the clock to maintain the peace.

Usually, the Fae soldiers stayed out of sight, so I’d never had any interaction with them before.

When the two did not move from my path, I looked up, a question in my gaze.

“We must search your bag,” the female Fae said, her voice brooking no opposition.

I clenched my teeth, trying to hold back the instant annoyance springing up within me like a geyser. “That is not a part of the Oculus Accords.” There. That was perfectly polite and mannerly. More like the gentle stream I was meant to be embodying.

The male Fae answered in a deeply resonant voice. “The Accords state that in the event of a breach by one party, such methods may be taken by the other party to redress that breach.” His tone made goosebumps rise on my arms regardless of the warmth of the day.

“What breach has occurred?”

His mouth snapped shut. The woman glanced over at him. That’s when I noticed the twin markings on their foreheads. They wore no helmets, but the brightness of their hair had distracted me. Along their hairlines lay identical, intertwining curved lines. They were a mated pair.

My eyes widened as they appeared to speak to each other without uttering a word. As far as I knew, Ember Fae were not telepathic, but as a child, I’d read stories about them. Fairy tales that told of fated mates bonded by something called twining —a magical merging of spirits.

Water Mages had no such custom. My parents had a very happy marriage from what I could tell, and part of me was glad they’d died together so they were never separated, but it was still a far cry from a spirit bond that meant a mated pair found it painful, deadly even, to be physically distant from one another for too long.

Finally, the woman spoke up. “An important ancient text has been stolen from our archives in Ashcrest. We have been ordered to search all, human or Fae, who enter any of the holy sites.”

My ire cooled, and I turned to expose the satchel slung across my body. “Feel free to search it.” I lifted the chalice slightly to show I did not have my hands free.

The woman nodded solemnly and bent to rifle through my bag.

I resisted the urge to tap my foot impatiently.

The mother and daughter suns were nearly in alignment.

My satchel contained very little, as I had few possessions.

Acolytes in the Order of Morros didn’t exactly take a vow of poverty, but we also didn’t earn an income and so had little coin with which to accumulate material items.

Of course, I was no longer an acolyte. The reminder was a jagged shard slicing my skin. I winced, and the female soldier glanced up at me sharply.

Finally, finding nothing, she stepped back, and the Fae allowed me to pass. I speed walked the rest of the way and entered the mouth of the cavern with almost no time to spare.