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A urora had never been happier in all her life, crouched as she was beside the skeletons of the ancient damned in a temple once lost to the sands of time. With only a few brush strokes more, achieving her lifelong dream and paying the ultimate reverence to her patron goddess was in sight. Years of gruelling study and fervent prayers had all led to this moment. It was, she would later learn, the last moment of blissful normality before her world turned upside down.

“You missed a spot,” the princess of the Viridian Empire whispered with an irreverent grin.

Aurora flicked her gaze back to her task, delicately brushing the last layers of debris off the globe-like relic before her, tucking errant blonde strands behind her pointed ear.

“You’re full of shit,” Aurora replied.

The greatest upheavals of history made for the most interesting of studies, but were the most wretched of times to be alive. A truth borne out by the bones of her forebearers, their final screams lost to the ages. Now, as their skeletal remains saw the waning light of dusk for the first time in millennia, the only sounds were the soft hush of brushes on sand and bone and the quiet grunts of her fellow clerics adjusting to the physical demands of their tasks.

“Careful, or High Priestess Orithyia will scold you for your unladylike language in the presence of my exalted self.”

Aurora scoffed.

“I’d tell her it’s your fault. That’s a valid legal defence in at least three provinces.”

“I am terribly infamous.” The princess patted her brilliant russet hair as she reclined in the recently uncovered alcove, a smile quirking up the corners of her full lips, her warm brown eyes sparkling with humour. She brushed an errant grain of dirt from her green and pink peplum jacket and crossed her legs at the ankle where her green leather boots complimented the rich brown of her tight trousers. Always the epitome of current fashion, no matter that she sat amongst lowly scholars. “Probably more so because they’re always hoping your virtues will rub off on me.”

“Goddesses forbid. The perfect Princess Phaedra has led a faultless and quiet life.”

“Yes, quite the opposite of the wild, wicked life of my dearest friend. Why, I caught you dog-earring a page last year. Wars have been fought over less.”

Aurora bit back a snort as her colleagues politely coughed.

“Hush, Your Highness.”

“Bore.”

“Brat.”

Aurora fought back a rising tide of impatience. What she did today would mark the turning point in her life. She would graduate from acolyte of Knowledge to a fully-fledged initiate—a scholar of note. From the moment she’d walked the halls of the obsidian temple’s museum, she’d been enthralled by the ancient past. Her first steps into the temple library left her in awe at all there was to learn. Knowledge, the goddess to whom Aurora had pledged herself, expected her followers to uncover the mysteries of the world, and as Aurora carefully freed the small, globe-like artefact from its pedestal, she could confidently say she’d begun to fulfil the goddess’ divine mandate.

Aurora’s heart soared as the last of the relic was fully uncovered. Pride swelled in her chest as she placed the freed relic onto the hovering tray beside her shallow trench. The culmination of a lifetime of study, hard work, and the favour of her goddess infused every stroke of her pencil as she catalogued the details of her find in the pages of the dig’s journal at her side. Her first ancient relic. Aurora was a true scholar now. She couldn’t wait to discover its secrets and share it with the world.

“You did it,” Phaedra whispered.

“I did.” Aurora’s breath hitched.

She owed Phaedra much. The princess had come into her life like a tempest and had never seen fit to leave. It was thanks to Phaedra’s influence that Aurora’s department was flush with the funds for this dig. Some might treat her achievement as lesser for that friendship alone, but that would be simple jealousy.

Phaedra wrapped her arms around Aurora’s shoulders.

“Is my baby initiate crying?”

“N-no.”

“Liar.” Phaedra kissed her head.

“Pest.” Aurora touched Phaedra’s hand and squeezed.

There was no truer friend in all of Trisia than Phaedra.

Aurora wiped her eyes, squinting as the setting sun’s last light bled into the flickering torchlight in the inner chamber. Soon, the site would be too dim to safely work in. During the day, the light from the ancient temple’s entrance gave enough light to work by. Now, they all risked ruining their eyesight in the encroaching dark. Groaning as her back protested, Aurora stood fully, wincing as blood flow returned to her legs and feet. Dusting off the faded black fabric of her trousers and black and grey brocade peplum jacket, she stamped her leather boots, willing the pain of pins and needles away. Her fellow clerics were similarly attired in shades of deepest grey, though few were as sensitive to the whims of fashion as Aurora. A bell announced the end of the day, and her colleagues put their equipment aside, covering the site with thick fabric tarps. Phaedra hooked her arm through Aurora’s and led the way along the raised wooden platform to the exit.

There would be a celebration tonight. As the most junior member of the dig, and in honour of discovering her first relic, Aurora would be expected to drink and carouse all night long. She fairly skipped along the platform.

“Have you heard from your family?” one of the initiates asked another.

“They fled to the city in time, thank the merciful Triad.”

“And the farm?”

“Went up in flames. Whole countryside has been plagued by monstrosities.”

A bitter reminder that Trisia was not at peace, and to count her blessings that her family lived safely within the walls of the Viridian capital, Boreas. As they passed by the bones of those lost long ago in times much like these, Aurora fought down a shiver. At least Aurora wasn’t on the front lines, or responsible for the welfare of the people of the empire.

Aurora squeezed Phaedra’s arm in sympathy. The Viridian empire had been beset by a plague of monstrous entities, and the imperial family was quickly losing the war. As the youngest princess, Phaedra’s role was to keep morale up, but even her facade of boundless cheer was beginning to slip. Joining Aurora on the dig was the only rest Phaedra had allowed herself in months. Aurora hoped for her sake that this cycle of chaos would soon be at an end.

“Sometimes I wish I had divine magic,” the initiate sighed.

Phaedra squeezed Aurora’s hand in sympathy then. She needn’t have. Aurora had long ago come to terms with the fact that she had been abandoned by magic in all its forms. There was magic in the discovery of ancient secrets and that was enough for her.

“There’s nothing you could have done, even if you did,” the other initiate reassured them.

Only those with divine magic could dispel the monstrosities that formed when the sinister planets aligned. Outside cycles of chaos, monstrosity infestations could be put down rapidly, but during such a cycle was another story altogether. The beasts that spawned now were vicious, intelligent, and required martial training to deal with.

The clerics of Justice, the swords of the Triad, had been run ragged and spread thin for half a year now, putting down infestations that came back threefold. It was a true blessing that this dig had been allowed to happen at all. Phaedra being at the dig ensured that at least a few of Justice’s initiates remained on site for her protection, and ostensibly, the safety of the whole dig team.

Luckily, High Priestess Orithyia CLXI was also of the opinion that one never knew when or how the pursuit of greater knowledge would prove to be what turned the tide in a crisis, just that, oftentimes, it had proved thus. No one knew what recovering an ancient artefact would allow them to do. The last had inspired the hovering surfaces for trays and carriages. Maybe the one Aurora had just unearthed would help grow crops or beat back monstrosities.

The sinister planetary alignment wouldn’t last forever, but in the meantime, people suffered. Aurora could only pray it would end soon.

When they stepped outside, the breeze brought the mouth-watering scent of spiced meat. A treat in times like these. The hum of chatter grew louder the closer they got to the dining tent, a long, wide canopy of black felt opened to the outdoors, the cooks working over spits just outside. In the fading light, the rocky desert of the ancient site glowed rosy gold, a few prickly cacti the only bit of green. Much had been buried in the millennia since the ancient capital had been in use, with their current dig site shifting through the rubble of the ancient temple of Knowledge. In the far ancient past, this was the capital of the long-gone kingdom of Aureum. The city, Altanus, must have been stunning before the repeated cycles of chaos and calamity had rendered it into rubble. Today, it was a desert far from the only habitable strip of the Aurean province.

As a queue quickly formed, Aurora and Phaedra expertly slipped themselves in near the front, to the grumbling of those less nimble.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you get tipsy.”

“You say that as if you aren’t going to join me.” Aurora smiled and raised a brow.

“Oh, I will, once I make sure you’ve loosened up enough to flirt with that initiate you’ve been eyeing all season,” Phaedra whispered.

“Shhh!” Aurora blushed.

“What was his name again?” Phaedra teased.

“Fae, don’t you—”

“Hmmm, can’t quite recall. But I did hear his nickname had something to do with having a very talented tongue.” Phaedra’s smile was savage.

Aurora placed her hands over Phaedra’s lips, glaring. If she kept this up, the man in question would surely overhear her, and potentially run scared. Most were already intimidated by Aurora’s relationship with royalty, and the last thing she wanted was to miss her chance with the man and his rumoured tongue just because Phaedra couldn’t help being a pain in her ass when the whim struck her.

“I should have sewn your mouth shut as a child.”

“Mother would have thanked you for that, I think.”

“I could still do it. I’m sure I could find a rusty needle somewhere.”

“Will that be before or after that silver-tongued young man puts his reputation to the test?” Phaedra asked, staring tellingly at Aurora’s nether regions before slowly returning her gaze back to Aurora’s, fluttering her lashes like some coquette in a play.

Aurora grabbed Phaedra in a headlock and mussed up her crown-like braids

“Not the hair! Not the hair!” Phaedra squawked.

A thread of panicked gasps jolted through the line of clerics. Aurora released Phaedra and they both looked around to find out what it was that had startled the dinner line. Perhaps they were shocked that Aurora had manhandled the princess? But they weren’t staring at the two of them, their gazes were off in the distance. Hopefully, no one had spilled the beer cask. Now that would have been worth gasping over.

“Don’t tell me something happened to the beer!” Phaedra cried theatrically.

The laughs were half-hearted at best.

Understandable.

Not even Aurora could find her humour as a heavily armoured initiate of Justice made his way up the path to the dig site. It didn’t help that he was accompanied by a swarm of fearsome soldiers, all wearing imperial green. Yet Aurora knew none of these warriors, despite being friendly with many of Phaedra’s bodyguards.

Phaedra straightened instantly, setting Aurora on alert.

“Stay here,” Phaedra whispered.

“Who are they?”

“Paladins.”

Aurora sucked in a breath. Often plucked from the gladiatorial pits, they were men and women who had committed grave crimes and had chosen trial by combat. If they survived, they were pressed into service in the temples of Justice as an elite fighting force, knowing if they strayed from the righteous path, the goddess Herself would not only revoke the divine magic She’d given them, but curse them to fates much worse than death. While initiates of Justice granted divine magic were thick on the ground these days, paladins were rarely seen unless the situation was truly dire.

Sick dread curled in Aurora’s gut. No doubt they were here for Phaedra. Only royalty warranted such drastic protection, and they all wore the imperial green of Viridis. Searching the eyes of her fellow clerics, it was clear that they had all come to the same conclusion—evacuation was imminent. Aurora spared a glance to the ancient temple ruins. It had survived thousands of years intact, but if some epic battle were about to take place, it could be destroyed for good. Their careful excavation had revealed some of its secrets, but had also left the site open to unprecedented destruction. Merciful Triad, what a tragic waste.

Aurora desperately tried to commit every detail of her precious ruins to memory. They’d uncovered the weathered friezes and the roof first, gradually creating an opening into the temple interior. The ancient fluted columns were visible now, some cracked, others scorched. Maybe, if she were lucky, she would have a chance to sketch it, so that future generations might know what it once looked like before it was lost. The whispers of her peers grew quiet. No doubt they too were taking one last look. It was only when one of her fellows elbowed her in her side that she turned away from her ruins.

And was faced with the sight of paladins towering over her.

Aurora swallowed down a shriek. They must all have had a drop of giant’s blood in them, to be able to loom over her so ferociously.

Only Justice’s initiate was made of sensible proportions, being only a hand’s width taller than she. The muted grey of his tunic and leggings was indistinguishable from the mail shirt atop it. His simple breastplate, vambraces and greaves were unadorned, unlike the armour of the imperial guards or any lord’s soldiers.

“Aurora Tintori, acolyte of Knowledge, from the Boreas temple?” His voice was smooth, a pleasing baritone. His steel helmet protected his head and face, save for the T-shaped opening for his eyes, nose and mouth. From the part of his face she could see, he appeared to be her age, in his late twenties. Trivial details her mind latched on to as her legs turned to jelly.

“Initiate,” Aurora said. Another trivial detail. It was easier to focus on those.

“Pardon?” he asked, bewildered.

“Aurora Tintori is an initiate,” Phaedra clarified, returning to Aurora’s side with a protective arm around her shoulders. Gone was her commoner’s speech and easy mien. Here stood the princess of an empire.

He cleared his throat.

“Initiate Aurora Tintori, from the Boreas temple of Knowledge?”

“Y-yes?”

He frowned, scanning the faces of her fellow scholars. The silence was as piercing as the bright, icy blue of his gaze.

“Please, come with us.”

Aurora’s eyes widened, her heart leaping up her throat. Oh goddess, what could they possibly want with her ? The other warriors levelled her with looks ranging from stoicism to bewilderment, boredom to outright disdain. Aurora looked to Phaedra. Surely a princess would know what was going on?

Phaedra skillfully inserted herself between Aurora and the warriors.

“My dearest paladins, you are meant to direct your overwhelming hostility towards monstrosities, not my confidants. Aurora, come with me. We will hear what they have to say in my tent.” Phaedra hooked her arm in Aurora’s and led her to the imperial tent, a large, rounded, home away from home covered in thick green felt and containing more comforts than any initiate could dream of. Plush, decorative rugs, a copper tub for bathing that one of the guards heated to perfection each night with their wild magic, fresh fruit and excellent wine on the carved wooden dining table, soft beds with silk sheets, and giant trunks full of clothes, shoes and books. Comforts that were incapable of appeasing Aurora’s rising panic.

Aurora snuck a glance behind her. She wished she hadn’t. A pack of armoured beasts stalked her steps.

“Fae, what’s happening?” Aurora whispered, her hands shaking.

She’d never been in real trouble her whole life. She’d abided by every tenet of the law both secular and divine—she’d never even returned a book late! Had her family done something? No—impossible. They were honest cloth merchants in Boreas. They had nothing to do with troublemaking, paladins, politics, or battle. Not even her youngest brother, the little beastie that he was, would get himself in trouble this big—would he? He’d been approached once by one of those heretical cultists, but surely he hadn’t gone and joined them… right?

“I don’t know yet, which is concerning to say the least. Let me do the talking. I won’t let anything happen to you. They may be paladins, but royal blood trumps glorified temple gladiators every time.”

Sometimes it was hard to say which had the greater power—the temples, or the monarchy. If trouble were in the offing, Aurora hoped her goddess wouldn’t be too upset with her that she was rooting for the monarchy this time.

Some prey instinct made Aurora look back again.

She tripped, her feet suddenly leaden.

That furtive glance had cost her her last shred of hope that the whole thing was simply some kind of mistake, or the empress being especially cautious about the safety of her youngest daughter. Phaedra helped her to stand and urged her onwards, but Aurora no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. The world was swallowing her whole between frantic heartbeats.

There, in a nondescript sheath at the blonde initiate’s side, was a hilt any true Trisian would instantly recognise.

“He has the holy sword of Justice,” Aurora pronounced as blood drained from her face.

Phaedra stiffened, redoubling her pace as if they could outrun the truth. But if Aurora’s eyes had not deceived her, there was nowhere to hide.

“No. It’s not possible.”

“Fae, if he has the holy sword—”

Aurora’s step faltered, her heart threatening to burst from her ribs. The holy sword could only be called upon when Drakon, the Beast of Old, resurrected—when a cycle of chaos became the cycle of calamity. A cycle of horrifying suffering, destruction, and despair. But the goddesses always gave Their people the means to triumph...the holy sword, and a hero to wield it, an avatar of Justice Herself, granted both divine power and protection in addition to whatever wild magic they already wielded.

“No. It was a trick of the fading light.” Phaedra’s voice hitched. “I refuse to accept that. It can’t be that bad.”

Aurora thought back to the skeletons in the temple ruins—lives snuffed out in an instant in a cycle of calamity thousands of years ago. Would initiates a thousand years in the future be prizing her remains from the rubble, determining her grisly final moments from the marks on her bones? The heroes of cycles of chaos past rarely lived long lives. The avatar born of the cycle of calamity fared little better—and neither did those whose fates were bound with his.

“Why do they know my name?” Aurora could hear the hollow desperation in her own voice. Would knowing the answer be better than the terror threatening to consume her?

“Anyone who is anyone knows of you through me. Mother is probably just being thorough, you’ll see. If there is some danger or other, they know I wouldn’t agree to go anywhere without you.” Phaedra’s voice was tight and high, her feet moving faster than ever.

That much was true. Aurora might as well be adopted family at this point. But that meant they were here for Phaedra after all. And that meant Phaedra’s fate was in danger of being caught up in the middle of the cycle of calamity.

Aurora wanted to will it all away, to wake up from this nightmare. Her dreams had come true today, but she would give it all up in a heartbeat. The frightened animal in her clawed at her heart. She needed Phaedra like she needed air. A world without her friend was a wasteland not worth contemplating.

When the flaps to the imperial tent were opened to reveal Orithyia, the one hundredth and sixty-first high priestess of the temple of Knowledge, and the look of abject pity in her wrinkled eyes, Aurora fell to her knees. Gentle hands helped her to a seat as a steady voice instructed her to breathe. Nausea threatened as all eyes in the tent were trained on her.

Every stare felt as threatening as a blade pointed at her throat. Why were they looking at her? She was no one. Nothing. Just a hysterical little initiate contemplating a world without its brightest, warmest light.

“You recognised the holy sword, didn’t you?” the high priestess asked, her voice calm.

How could she not? Its likeness had been carved into reliefs since ancient times. Its depiction lived on as an essential ingredient of every heroic statue. Textbooks had its image lovingly painted across the leaves at every opportunity.

Aurora nodded her head, just then noticing the wielder of that sword on bended knee before her, his gloved hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Blue eyes searched her green ones with concern. He’d removed his helmet, long strands escaping his braid and framing a handsome face with hair as pale as moonstone. Why was he at her side? Why was the avatar looking at her like that, a mixture of pity and wariness pinching his features?

Aurora turned to Orithyia, a woman she would know anywhere. Naturally tall and slightly stooped with age, the high priestess’ hazel eyes were calm. Her long white hair was styled up in intricate braids, reminiscent of the ancient styles, her gown of the deepest black was the same, a midnight brocade peplos with sleeves, complimented by her veil-like himation and silver diadem decorated with obsidian jewels. High Priestess Orithyia CLXI had been present at every milestone, from her first steps into the temple’s library to her first day as an acolyte. From her first perfect score to her first academic failure. She’d been a benefactor, a stern tutor, a role model, as quick with a kind word as with a remonstration. Orithyia was the grandmother Aurora had never had.

And now she was here again, heralding a new, terrible chapter in Aurora’s life. She was here to shepherd her through a trial which would surely tear her in two. If something happened to Phaedra, Aurora’s heart would simply perish.

“Is Phaedra going to be alright?”

Phaedra scoffed as though such a thing were a given. But there was nowhere in Trisia that was safe during a cycle of calamity.

“Why were you asking after Aurora? What has happened?” Phaedra demanded.

Orithyia ignored the princess.

A very bad sign.

She took a seat by Aurora’s side and took her trembling hands in hers. Soft, papery skin, bony and veined. They were the hands of aged wisdom. Safe details for her mind to latch onto.

“Yes, Aurora, the princess’ fate remains untied to the current cycle.”

Aurora nearly collapsed again, relief flooding her. Phaedra was going to be alright. Maybe this won’t be so bad .

Her relief was short-lived.

“But yours has been woven into the very centre of it.”