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A urora’s screams of denial were trapped in her throat. She froze, paralysed by terror. But as her voice failed her, Phaedra roared in her stead. The princess marched over to the high priestess and smacked her hands away from Aurora’s.

“No! This is unacceptable. I will not allow it. You have clearly erred in the reading of the signs,” Phaedra accused her.

“There is no mistake,” Orithyia replied, her voice grave as she returned Phaedra’s glare.

Orithyia’s authoritative tone only goaded Phaedra on. Like grease and fire.

“Get out! All of you! And you !” Phaedra all but hissed at the avatar of Justice. She gathered her wild magic and shoved him away. He recovered quickly, glaring, yet saying nothing in his defence. “Stop touching her! You will never have her. The world will burn before I let you take her!”

“If you don’t, it may very well come to that. The goddesses have given us the means to end this cycle of calamity,” the high priestess replied, standing to her full height and adjusting her robes and veil, entirely unfazed by Phaedra’s outburst.

“Fuck the cycle! And fuck the goddesses! We’ll go to the lands where their power is weakest!” Phaedra screamed, slipping back into a commoner’s affectation.

Beyond the lands protected by the divine Triad, there were many other realms, but the goddesses’ power and influence were weakened away from Their temples, leaving Their adherents at the mercies of rival, foreign gods and the caprices of fate. Even worse were areas entirely unprotected by any deities—the between, where monstrosities thrived. If Phaedra took Aurora and fled Trisia, there was no guarantee for their safety.

“Hold your tongue! Blasphemy is a crime, even for a princess,” Orithyia retorted.

“The crime here is demanding an academic stand on the front lines of a damned cycle of calamity! She has no martial training, no magic, and you plan to what—throw her at The Beast of Old? Use her as bait? Fuck you! Fuck this! I won’t let it happen!”

One of the paladins, a lean woman of uncommon height, sighed in irritation.

“Permission to remove the princess? Her tantrum is delaying our mission.”

The high priestess nodded.

“You have no authority over me! This is my empire!” Phaedra turned an outraged glare on the paladin in question.

“Why do you think the paladins are wearing the imperial colours? Empress Neverita has already given us leave to do what we must,” Orithyia said.

“Her Majesty would never stand for this!” Phaedra hissed.

Distracted by the high priestess, the paladin picked up Phaedra, tossed the shocked princess over her shoulder, and strode outside. Phaedra’s screeches of indignation were barely muted by the thick felt of the tent. Aurora was alone, her protector dismissed as if she were a mere servant rather than a Viridian princess. Nausea threatened anew.

“Give us some space, please. Ready the lopers for the journey,” the high priestess commanded the paladins, gesturing to the flap of the tent.

“We don’t take orders from Knowledge’s hags,” the tallest warrior huffed.

“And we’re not thrice-damned servants,” the brawniest added.

“I, for one, would like to see how the little temple mouse responds, now that she can’t hide behind the princess’ skirts,” the last warrior said, her dark eyes raking Aurora with disdain. “Best to figure out just how much of a burden she’ll be on this quest.”

The avatar of Justice put himself between the paladins and Aurora, his back to her. He was not the brawniest of warriors, nor the tallest, but his very presence demanded attention. As he spoke, his voice was soft but no less commanding.

“But you do answer to me, and to Justice. Do as the high priestess has asked.”

“Swinging a holy sword won’t earn you my respect,” the tallest warrior hissed. “Bloody Nivean swine. I was earning accolades while you were suckling at some barnyard teat in your backwater province!”

“I don’t require your respect, only your compliance. Now go,” the avatar replied, unfazed by their hostility, his head held high.

In the battle of wills, the avatar was the winner. The paladins took their leave, grumbling the whole while.

“Thank you, Silvanus. Justice chose wisely when She made you Her avatar,” Orithyia sighed.

“We shall see.” He nodded, turning his attention back to Aurora. “I apologise for their rudeness. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Silvanus, avatar of our goddess, Justice.”

He bowed, as deeply as one might to a princess. Taking her hand, he bent his head over it and kissed her dusty knuckles. Aurora’s insides squirmed. What in the goddesses’ good graces was going on? Aurora swallowed down her fear as best she could. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she managed to speak.

“What do you want from me?”

Phaedra had not misspoken when she’d described Aurora. More mouse than warrior, her only magic was that she knew the temple’s main library like the back of her hand and had an uncanny ability to assist Phaedra in all manner of mischief. She was no one. An acolyte who had only just become a true initiate.

“You know that the sinister planets are aligned, correct? That their influence has created the plague of monstrosities?” Orithyia asked, as though teaching a lesson to a particularly slow student.

Aurora nodded. It was a basic religious teaching, one especially well-known in times such as these.

“And you know very well that sometimes, these alignments have heralded a cycle of calamity and the rebirth of Drakon?”

Aurora nodded again, biting her lip, lest the screams trapped in her throat break free. The Beast of Old was a fearsome horned serpent that slithered through the skies on a bank of malevolent clouds, raining down death and devastation. Nowhere was safe from its wanton destruction.

“Then you must also know that in such dire times, the goddesses give us the means to end the cycle—a holy sword and a hero gifted both wild and divine magic to wield it, an avatar of Justice.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

So what in the world did that have to do with her? She was neither a holy sword nor an avatar of Justice. While her research focused on the earliest recorded cycle of calamity, she was hardly the most learnèd on the subject.

“Silvanus is that hero, that avatar of Justice. High Priestess Nerio has confirmed as much. But there is one last piece to ending the cycle of calamity. A piece we keep hidden from view, whose existence is never publicly revealed, for fear the heretical cults might bring them harm.” Aurora swallowed down bile, clammy hands gripping the fabric of her trousers. “The sinister aspects of the goddesses—Lies, Vengeance, and Death—may not be worshipped openly in Trisia, but they have their followers, those who will rise up for their champion, their avatar—the Beast of Old. But Drakon rises only when his prey has been reborn. A devoted follower of Knowledge, one who awakens the magic to seal the beast. You are its prey. And we need you to awaken that magic. I’m sorry, Aurora.”

Merciful Triad, they were all doomed.

No, no, this was simply not possible.

“That can’t be. I have…I have ruins to uncover. Artefacts to catalogue. We’ve only just excavated the inner hall. There’s so much left to be done.”

Orithyia sighed.

“I read the signs again this morning. Our goddess has spoken.”

The goddesses Knowledge, Passion and Justice often sent signs for their high priestesses to interpret, but this was simple madness. There must be another explanation for the signs.

“But, there must be some mistake! I can’t be this person. I’m…I only just became an initiate…”

“Do you doubt my expertise?” Orithyia raised a white brow.

“I—no—but you must think—”

“I do not think , Aurora, I know . Knowledge sends Her signs for us to interpret. Thanks to Her divine guidance, I have never once been wrong. Do you suppose I would not be absolutely certain before I presented this to you?”

Tears stung her eyes then. Despair began overwhelming denial. She would surely die. They all would, if the conclusion of this divine mission rested on her shoulders. She was no more capable of being a hero than a fish was of flight. The only weapons she’d ever wielded were her wits and her pen. Anyone who claimed the pen mightier than the sword had never been asked to face down the Beast of Old holding naught but a quill and a pithy remark in their defence.

“But I can’t—”

“You can, because you must, Aurora. Knowledge has spoken. The divine Triad wills it. Your fate has been spun,” Orithyia said, the stern disciplinarian once more. Aurora’s heart sank. Orithyia’s pale grey eyes softened then, a look that had Aurora biting her lip as it threatened to tremble. “You would not be given this role if you were incapable of seeing it done. In that, I have absolute faith. You may believe yourself unworthy of this great task, little dove, but I have watched you your whole life, and I believe in you.”

That proved to be the final fissure that ensued she crumbled. Aurora sobbed openly then. Orithyia hobbled to her side and wrapped her in a bony embrace, petting her hair as the enormity of what lay before her swallowed her whole.

Outside the tent, Phaedra’s voice was raised in command and a commotion ensued. Screams and a great clash accompanied howling winds. Phaedra’s wild magic. Wrenched out of her own despair by fear, Aurora straightened. Had the monstrosities already come for them? Was Phaedra alright? The flap of the imperial tent whipped open, the snap of the fabric drowning out Orithyia’s curse.

“Which one of you made her cry?” Phaedra howled as she stormed inside, her russet braids a windswept mess and her dark brown eyes burning like hot coals of hatred. Just as Aurora recovered from one fear, another arose. In this state, Phaedra was a true danger.

“Your tantrum is unacceptable, Princess. Leave at once!” Orithyia shouted above the din.

“Ah, so I’ll be courting Knowledge’s wrath then.” Phaedra grinned with malice. “I’m not surprised. Never liked you, and it seems She has poor taste.”

Aurora’s heart seized. She’d never seen Phaedra so furious. Would she truly risk a goddess’ wrath over a coward’s tears?

Silvanus stepped between the high priestess and Phaedra.

“Please reconsider, Your Highness. No one here has harmed Aurora.”

“Oh, will I be courting Justice’s wrath as well? Perhaps we should find one of Passion’s priestesses so that I can cover all my blasphemous bases.”

“Fae, stop!” Aurora pushed past them to get to her friend. Phaedra was too hot-headed for her own good. If she harmed either the high priestess or avatar, Knowledge and Justice would severely punish her.

The moment Phaedra wrapped her arms around Aurora, the wind died down. She could feel Phaedra’s heart beating wildly, her breathing unsteady. Phaedra was one of those whose wild magic made them more prone to let their magic have free reign in states of heightened emotion. Aurora was one of the few who could calm her. Crisis averted, Aurora’s legs trembled. Neither her heart nor her body would be able to withstand much more of this.

“Say the word, and we leave Trisia,” Phaedra whispered.

Goddesses, how she wanted that. To simply run away from everything she’d just been told. Some small part of her still believed it was all a mistake. Maybe if she left, the Beast of Old wouldn’t rise. It would be better for everyone that way.

“You would only bring Drakon with you,” Silvanus said, crushing her hopes. “He comes for her and her alone.” Silvanus turned to Orithyia. “We’ll be on our way shortly. I believe I know enough to answer any other questions Aurora or the princess might have. It would be best if you’re safely ensconced in the Boreas temple.”

“Very well. Aurora, do you have any other questions you would like me to answer before we part ways?”

Her mind was scrambled, her heart a jumbled mess. How was she supposed to think clearly in a situation as unprecedented as this? There were too many questions for her mind to hold at that moment, too many screams she was holding back. But one question in particular came to the fore.

“How am I to awaken magic when I’ve already failed to do so?”

If saving Trisia hinged on her awakening magic, then there was a deep and abiding issue with the threads of fate.

Magic flowed across the whole of Trisia. Some even awakened the power to see it. But in Trisia, there were only two ways to awaken magic—through listening for and answering the call of a wellspring, and through prayer. Wellsprings of wild magic rarely stayed in the same place for long, while the holy sites of divine power were more fixed in the landscape and temples built atop them.

As a child, Aurora had heard the call of the Viridian wellspring, answered it even, but had walked away empty-handed. She’d been rejected by wild magic, no matter that she’d heard its melody. And so, she’d rejected wild magic and devoted herself to the temple, to Knowledge.

And yet, no matter that she’d prayed for three days in front of her goddess, she did not receive divine magic. Half submerged in icy water as clear as crystal, wearing only the thinnest of linen dresses, her muscles had burned from cold and tortuous stillness. Tears had stopped streaming from her eyes after the second day of that ritualized torture. There had been no point to them. For three days she’d bent her head and clasped her hands in front of the statue of Knowledge. Only silence had met her mind’s pleas.

Orithyia knew all of this.

Silvanus cleared his throat.

“The high priestess mentioned that you had heard the call of the Viridian wellspring. Clearly you have some affinity for wild magic. If you heard it, you’ll be able to hear the other wellsprings, as I can. As luck would have it, I heard the call of Aureum’s wellspring while travelling here. If we leave quickly, we might catch it before it moves.” His smile was gentle. “I know this has all come as a great shock to you, and any right-minded person would be terrified, but there is hope, Aurora.”

“Fae?”

Having awakened her magic at the Viridian wellspring, Phaedra was more versed in these matters than Aurora. After all, wild magic was the pride of the imperial house of Trisia. Aurora had been so devastated by her failure as a child that she’d refused to learn much about the subject. Yet another glaring error.

“Technically, yes. There is a wellspring in every province of the empire. Though I’m surprised the temples would allow one of their own to admit as much openly.”

“You belittle the Triad and their devotees at your own peril, Princess.” Orithyia sighed.

“The temples have long suppressed wild magic rites in the empire. Don’t insult me by feigning ignorance,” Phaedra retorted.

“I’ll not have this debate again, Your Highness. Nevertheless, I can see Silvanus has you well in hand, Aurora. I will take my leave, and pray for your safe journey.” Orithyia nodded at her before leaving the tent.

“Good riddance,” Phaedra muttered.

“We should be on our way as well, Aurora.” Silvanus offered her his hand.

Phaedra slapped it away.

“If she’s going anywhere, then I will be coming along. In which case, she doesn’t need you pawing at her like some stray dog. And while we travel, keep your paladins in line. The next one who so much as breathes impolitely in her direction better hope they die at the beast’s hands, and not mine.”

Aurora’s heart stuttered in her chest.

“Fae, no! You can’t! What if you get hurt?”

“What if you get hurt? If I come with you, Mother will be forced to send along real warriors.” She eyed Silvanus with disgust.

“If something happens to you because of me, I’ll never forgive myself!”

“Then the solution is simple. Don’t let anything happen, and we’ll both be fine. Which will be easier to accomplish with imperial guards.”

More people who might be sacrificed if Aurora failed.

“Ooh!” Aurora pushed Phaedra away, fuming. No one could be as infuriating at Phaedra when she wanted to be, or as stubborn. But this was no prank, where the worst that could happen was a scolding. “You’re such a stubborn ass! I won’t let you risk yourself. Go home!”

“No. I’m a princess, this is my empire, and I go where I please. You can’t get rid of me.”

“I’ll… I’ll tell your mother about the gladiator last spring!” Aurora claimed, reaching for anything to get Phaedra to back down.

“Resorting to blackmail? Try harder. That’s barely a scandal.”

“I’ll tell her you replaced the gemstones in her crown with crystals!”

“I’ll tell her you helped. As if anyone but you would have the patience to pry them out so delicately. And if she hasn’t already noticed, that’s on her.”

Merciful Triad, she needed to threaten something really drastic then.

“I’ll tell your sisters where you hide your favourite shoes!”

Phaedra gasped, truly horrified now.

“You bitch! You know they’d steal them all on principle!” Phaedra grimaced. “No, I won’t give in. Do your worst!”

“I’ll tell her you were the one who slathered the poison oak in your ex-fiancé’s clothes!”

“He deserved it for being a mouth-breather and nothing you say will make me leave you. And if you leave me here, I’ll… I’ll mislabel all your artefacts and contaminate the dig site!”

Aurora gasped.

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would!”

“Damn it, Fae! I’m trying to protect you!”

“I could always tie her up and leave her here,” Silvanus offered.

“No!” they shouted in unison, glaring at the avatar.

Aurora turned back to Phaedra. She had to say something, anything, to make her leave. The whole world could fall to chaos, but as long as Phaedra was safe, Aurora’s heart could be at peace. The only thing more terrifying, more horrifying, than her own fate being tied to the cycle of calamity was the thought of taking Phaedra down this dark and dangerous path with her.

“Fae, please, I—”

A slithering sensation stole up her spine, one so strong she could have sworn she felt fingertips trailing along her skin.

“ My little mouse, I’ve found you once again. And you will pay in blood for your crimes .”

The low, rumbling whisper caressed her ear with its sinister voice. Aurora spun. There was no one behind her, no one present but for Phaedra and Silvanus.

“Did you hear that?” Aurora asked.

“Hear what?” Phaedra asked.

“That voice, those threats. Tell me you heard them too!”

“I—no, I didn’t,” Phaedra replied calmly, eyes swimming with concern. “This has been a really trying day for you—”

“ No one will save you, little mouse! End this now, and I will— ”

Silvanus put his hands over her ears, his divine magic washing over her like the flow of crystal-clear water, dissolving the taint of the voice.

“Don’t listen to its lies, or its threats, Aurora. The beast will do anything, say anything, to prevent you from sealing it away.”

“How do you…”

Could he hear it too? Was it truly Drakon? Pity formed in his icy blue gaze.

“It’s the last piece of proof. Only the one who can seal it away can hear the Beast of Old as it draws near. Whenever you hear Drakon’s voice, tell me. It means we must make haste if we don’t want to be caught by it before we’re ready to face it.”

Mind numb, Aurora allowed herself to be led from the tent and onto a waiting loper. While horses made excellent draft animals, lopers were smarter and built for speed. She should be riding her own, but it had run off in the night without anyone the wiser. Perhaps she should have taken it for the inauspicious sign it had been. Long-limbed and sturdy with pearlescent white horns curling atop its head, the avatar’s pure white mount pawed at the ground with its hooves, eager to be running once more.

“This is Neptune. He’s as fast as they come and strong enough to carry us both through the night to the wellspring,” Silvanus said, patting the loper’s graceful neck before he snapped the reins attached to its horns. Without another word, the loper sprang into action.

So this was it. The moment her life was sundered. Behind her, the life she’d fought for, the career she’d strived for, her sense of self and safety—all gone. She’d lived her heart’s truest dream for less than an hour. Before her, threats of death and a fate she was wholly unfit to carry out. Silvanus seated himself behind her and urged them all to ride as swiftly as possible. Not long after, Phaedra caught up on her own steed, keeping pace beside Silvanus, the paladins not far behind.

“What did it say?” Phaedra asked as they rode into the cold desert night.

Aurora shivered as she relayed it, word for horrid word.

“What language is that?”

“The c—” She was about to answer that it had spoken to her in the common tongue. But it hadn’t. It had spoken a language drilled into every scholar of the ancient past, one rarely spoken aloud, except in the ancient rites of the temples. Thanks to her studies, she knew it as well as the common tongue. “The ancient temple tongue,” she answered.

She met Phaedra’s eyes as the realisation sank in. There was no escaping it now, this dreadful certainty. Aurora was lashed to the cycle of calamity, her fate tangled and twisted with that of an ancient monstrosity. The beast had risen because of her, because of some magic she had yet to awaken or master, and it wanted blood.

Her blood.

“ Run all you like. I will always find you .”