Page 27 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 27 – ELIEL

T hree hours passed until my audience was finished. Until I had heard, observed, been inundated by, and given my solutions to those who presented me with problems which required solving, or propositions which required my approval.

I could feel myself waning, the pain in my arm grew steadily worse as time went on, and voices droned away. If Elias lived this way on a daily basis, I could only say my respect for him had increased immensely, and that it was no wonder he avoided contact with these people by any means possible.

Fagreaves turned to me once the audience was over. “Your Highness, the final matter is that of your Coronation.”

“Mmmm,” I replied.

“The preparations have been made. It will take place tomorrow eve.”

I sighed. “I see.”

“Should Your Highness wish to depart from the ceremony at an earlier time, that can be arranged.”

How generous.

“Should I need to depart, I will depart, there will be no arrangements necessary,” I replied.

“Of course, Your Highness.” He bowed his head slightly.

Trenton approached me, bowing before he did. “Your Highness, here is the order of events as they will take place.” He handed me a piece of thick white card, outlined with golden symbols of Vasara’s emblem, the sun, at each corner.

Arrival of the guests

Procession

King's Greeting

Oaths

Divine Sacrifice

Crowning

Audience with the King

Grand Feast

“Has His Highness decided what he will offer for the Divine Sacrifice?” Trenton asked.

The Divine Sacrifice was a tradition upheld by every ruling monarch of every Kingdom. Once crowned, they would kneel before the altar of the Gods, giving up something important in return for a bestowal of blessings for their reign. Vasara’s ruler, however, was expected to offer the largest sacrifice of all at this event, considering it was the ruling Kingdom, and its monarch was therefore granted power over the others. Previous rulers it was claimed, had sacrificed a beloved animal, a weapon they had wielded for decades, years off their life, their looks, their knowledge, one of their five senses.

“Yes,” I stated.

The members of my Council looked at each other cautiously. “May I ask what His Highness has decided upon?”

I knew if I informed them of my sacrifice they would protest to a great degree, and so, my answer was, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Trenton nodded in a restrained manner, deciding that probing me further would be futile. He was right.

Jarian approached me from my right. “Your Highness, he has arrived.”

“Bring him in,” I instructed.

The doors before us opened, and with long, purposeful strides, the Vessel entered the room. The same one I had interrogated just days before.

I had not killed him, or Orlis. In the end it had been he, who had offered his services, in exchange for Orlis’ life. In the end, he had changed his mind.

“Kneel before His Highness,” Wayman spat.

“No need.” I raised my hand to stop him from speaking.

Wayman glared at me utterly confused.

“Where is she?” the young man asked.

“She is being looked after—"

He interrupted me, “Where?”

Wayman looked as if he might faint at the sight of someone interrupting me if it continued for much longer.

I licked my lips and replied, “She is no longer in the Northern Wing, if that is what you are asking.” I knew that it was.

The young man nodded, satisfied with my response.

I stood, mentally berating myself for forgetting about the dizziness that had set in just an hour prior.

I remained in place for a second, then approached the man. My guards stepped in beside me, the young man looked at them, then back at me.

“What have you discovered?” I asked him.

“They were there.”

I had asked him to track the sorcerers from Liquanon, to the best of his ability. I had debated asking the trackers, but I could not say how adept the sorcerers who had attacked us were at scouting out, and expecting pursuit from that unit.

“And did you follow the trail?”

“Yes.”

He was clearly reluctant to expand upon anything. I said nothing, waiting for him to do so.

He remained silent.

“Did it lead anywhere?” I spoke. I was exhausted, I had no time for these long pauses.

“It did.”

Fargreaves tutted. “Do not play games, boy. This is no time to prevaricate. You are fully aware of what His Highness wishes to know.”

The man didn’t even look at Fargreaves, his gaze remained fixed on me.

“What will you do to them?” the young man put to me.

“It is not your place...” Wayman started.

“Nothing, for now,” I told him. It was true.

The young man contemplated his words for a brief moment, then answered. “The trail leads to the Glacier Pass, it stops there.”

The Glacier Pass was an area just North of Jurasa. It was deeply embedded within woodland and at its centre was a large lake, often frozen over.

“A good place to hide,” Trenton observed.

He was right, the Glacier Pass was difficult and dangerous terrain to cross, making it an ideal area to evade pursuit.

“How is it possible the trail stopped there?” Fargreaves glared at the young man.

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, glaring back at him.

It was as the Jurasan King had said. “It is possible, if the sorcerers are powerful enough,” I interjected.

“Which implies that these powerful sorcerers joined the others at Glacier Pass and were not at Liquanon. They must have colluded on this together and arranged to meet up at Jurasa's Northern point afterwards,” Fargreaves said.

“Possibly,” I replied.

Fargreaves made his displeasure evident, looking at me sharply. “What other possibilities are there, Your Highness?”

“Many,” I stated. “The first group of sorcerers could have been acting alone. They could have deviated from the group and re-joined later, without the more powerful sorcerers being aware of their actions. After all, if the plan were to kill the Jurasan King, why not send the most powerful sorcerers to Liquanon to do so? There would be no benefit in waiting at the pass since they could have cleared their traces of sorcery at the river itself.”

I was met with silence.

“There is also the possibility they were the sorcerers we speak of, that one of them had the capability to remove traces of their sorcery but chose to lead us to the Glacier Pass before they erased it. In this scenario, they may have split into groups after Liquanon, with the more powerful sorcerers heading to Glacier, and the rest wandering, possibly alone, or in much smaller numbers towards another direction. Travelling in smaller groups would make it much harder for people to trace their energy, and so, anyone searching for them would follow the path to Glacier. It could have been a deliberate diversion. We do not know whether there is one group acting to deceive us, whether there are two groups working together, or two groups working alone.”

Fargreaves tutted. Trenton nodded in assent. The young man looked at me thoughtfully.

“You are to find them,” I said to the young man.

“Your Highness, we already have the Commander—" Wayman began.

“The Commander’s job is to apprehend them. Your job” — I looked at the young man — “will be to infiltrate them.”

The young man’s jaw clenched. “You want me to be your spy?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“I’d rather continue being a Vessel for the rest of my days,” he said vehemently.

“That is no longer an option.”

“You really are scum,” he scowled.

“You are speaking to Royalty, boy, have some respect,” Wayman rebuked him.

“I’m quite sure that earning this man’s respect will be impossible,” I said, “But that is no matter. What matters is that you uphold your side of the arrangement.”

“This is no arrangement,” the young man grunted.

“Do as I ask, and I promise, Orlis will be safe. I will allow you to live your lives freely and—"

The young man laughed at the word ‘freely,’ loudly, and openly.

“Do you think you’re some kind of saviour? Some kind of God?” He made a move to step towards me. All my guards placed their hands on the hilt of their swords.

The young man assessed the situation, and stepped back, clenching his fists.

“I think nothing of the sort,” I told him. “But it is my duty to protect my people.”

“And what about sorcerers? Do they not count as people too? The children who learn they can grow food when they are five, or the ones who learn they can hear their neighbour's thoughts when they are ten. What are they, Your Highness ?”

He was right. They were people. They were people with whom we had coexisted, whom we had deemed a threat, who had proven us right all those decades ago. And now, we could not afford to wait and see if they proved us right again. Those who did not possess such gifts, such abilities, they could not protect themselves. If those who did possess them decided to act, those who did not would all fall, all perish, they would have no chance at survival. It was not that I did not view the sorcerers as people, but that I viewed them as dangerous people. It was not that they did not have the right to exist in this world, or that I wished harm upon them, but that I wished no harm to come to the defenceless. It was that this world had become a battlefield for the prize of living.

And that I intended to win.

I realised I had been silent for a few moments, contemplating these facts, leaving the young man unanswered.

“They are cut from the same cloth as those who lined these streets with blood decades ago. Some of them may even be the same individuals. They are a memory, and they are a reminder of the mistakes we made, of the lives we lost.”

The young man huffed in disappointment at my answer, but he did not reply.

“You will set out tomorrow morning.”

“And how exactly do you expect me to get away, to pass on…information.”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure. Your sister’s comfort depends on it.”

“And if I die…will she be kept so comfortably then?”

“You have my word that she will. Leave with Jarian, he will give you what you need for your journey.”

I nodded towards Jarian. He walked towards the man, intending to escort him out. The sorcerer remained in place for a few moments, as if debating whether or not to speak, then he turned around, and left.

Fargreaves spoke up immediately “Your Highness, this boy—"

“I have made my decision. It is final. That will be all.” I had no patience for these men for the remainder of this day.

I leant into the high-backed chair that had been left in the hall. It wasn’t the King’s throne, which I would only have the right to sit on after tomorrow, but it was equally as uncomfortable.

Once all the men, bar my guards, had left the room, I eventually made my way to my chambers, accompanied by a few of them.

Elias was waiting for me there.

“Ahhh you’re back.” He straightened up, having been leaning against the doorframe.

“Elias?” I said to him questioningly.

Elias raised an eyebrow. “I came to check in on you, but they said you were busy nodding your head, and signing your contracts.”

“I’m well,” I said, reaching for the door handle, with my free hand.

Elias placed a hand in front of it. “You look like shit.”

“Elias,” my voice carried a warning tone this time, urging him to move.

“Decided to sacrifice your good looks tomorrow. Didn’t you do it a little early?”

“Elias,” I repeated, not having the strength to say anything else.

He was in appropriate attire, for the first time in years, I realised.

“What is it…that you’ve chosen to sacrifice?” Elias asked carefully, craning his neck around to try and find my face,

“Something inconsequential to me.”

Elias huffed. “That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“Something important to others.”

“Neither…does that,” Elias spoke slowly.

I turned to him. “And you? How do you fare…after being there once more?”

Elias sighed and waved his hand casually through the air. “No different.”

That seemed improbable.

“Terrible,” he admitted after a few moments of silence.

“I will not ask such things of you again,” I asserted, placing my own hand on the handle now that Elias had removed his.

“You will,” Elias stated, so fervently that I couldn’t help but look up. “And I won’t refuse you.”

“You…will not?” I asked doubtfully.

“No. Someone’s got to stop you from breaking the other arm, after all.”