Ascension

(An excerpt from the novel, The Lost Heir, written by J. Flessa circa. July 2021)

The halls of The Norðurljós Citadel had fallen silent against the frost bitten sky. Snow poured from the clouds, coating the training courtyard with silence. Burying the ringing of steel clashing within the fighting rings. Dampening the thudding of swords against the straw and wooden dummies.

Yet despite the world’s best efforts, the creak of long bows being drawn echoed in Rayna’s ears.

She stood in the center of the courtyard, face upturned to the sky. Snowflakes kissed her cheeks, and clung to her lashes as the crisp frigid air filled her lungs.

She had only been out here a few hours ago, had she not? Where had everyone gone in that time? Her mother had yelled at her earlier for taking up a bow, but that would not halt the training of the guard. Would it not?

She had to be dreaming then. Liza had escorted her back to her room after the incident. She told the other girl that she was going to rest, and she must have fallen asleep.

Rayna pinched herself, but did not wake from the dream. Her face scrunched as she did so again. What?

Glancing around, there was not a soul in sight. The sun peeked through the clouds for a brief moment, and glinted off the archery racks. Squinting, Rayna began towards the range where she saw an elegantly made longbow adorned in silver and blue. Light wood, and curling metallic designs; the piece looked as if an elven artisan beyond Kul’Terra had crafted it.

Rayna paused.

A half elven woman with curly bobbed brown hair stepped up to the archery range. A matching quiver was strapped across her back, and her armor was similarly designed to that of the longbow. Light cerulean linens and tempered gray leathers.

The woman picked up the bow, and pulled an arrow. Notching it, she drew and fired with ease. Without even a second thought. Stream of glittering magic trailed off the arrow as it found it’s home in the bullseye. The half elf nodded to herself then turned to Rayna.

“Hello,” her voice was sweet, calming like the lullabies Amma used to sing. Soft brown eyes scanned Rayna up and down. “You’re much younger than I thought you’d be.”

“Um,” Rayna tried. She looked around, trying to find anyone else that may be the target of conversation.

The half elf exhaled a laugh.

“There is no one else here but you and I, Rayna Estuko Helvig.”

Rayna jerked back upon hearing her full name. “How do you know…” The question died on her tongue.

“Oh,” the half elf smiled. “I’m pretty sure I know almost everything there is to know in this little garden we call Thiania considering I was one of the people who discovered, mapped, and built half of it’s societies.”

Rayna blanched. “Who are you? What’s going on exactly?” She stumbled back a step.

“Good,” the half elf’s smile grew. “I like questions, and I like people who follow their curiosities even more.”

She held the longbow out to Rayna.

“Why don’t you give it a try?”

Rayna paused. Biting her lip, her eyes locked onto the beautiful weapon offered to her. She looked between the bow and the half elf. The elf had tattoos that rested along her cheeks. Two sets that almost looked like extra pairs of eyes at rest.

“It’s alright,” the half elf urged. “I want to see what you have to offer.”

Rayna exhaled. Quick feet brought her closer. She tried to keep her hands steady as she took the longbow. Rayna reveled at the familiar and easy weight. She stepped up to the range like it was second nature. The hall elf handed her an arrow, and Rayna settled into her trained stance with the arrow notched.

The half elf chuckled, and stepped up behind her.

“Try putting your feet closer together,” she said. “And don’t hold your arms too high.”

The half elf gently corrected Rayna’s feet, and arms. She rounded behind Rayna, and they looked down the sight together.

“You get too excited when offered the chance to shoot. Eagerness is not a bad thing, but you’re not a child anymore. These arrows are no longer toys.”

Rayna zeroed in on the arrowhead. Instead of the rounded point most training shots were capped with this one was sharp steel. The tip glinted in the sun.

She had never shot a real arrow. In the six years she had been learning to shoot there was no need to shoot a real arrow. Not when she started at seven, and not now at fourteen.

Swallowing hard to keep her heart from jumping into her throat, Rayna released the tension. She lowered the bow.

“What causes your hesitation, dear?” the half elf asked.

Rayna stared down at the bow. She twisted the arrow in her grip.

“Is this the same hesitation you take with your parents?”

Ice clawed at Rayna’s veins. “Who are you?” She whispered.

“My name is Sapientia,” the half elf said. “Leader of the First Expeditions, Lady of Truth and Knowledge, Captain of the Safír Dreki and a founder of the city you call home.”

Rayna blinked at the half elf, eyes wide, looking her up and down. Mind spinning, she took a step back from Sapientia. This woman was no longer mortal.

Every book and journal she had read on the gods and the pantheons said as much. The history books of Kul’Terra and it’s founding told of her worship. Of the loyalty she earned. The creation myths detailed her beginnings. Her origins in The Kerligwain Valley, and how much she helped society as a whole.

“You-” Rayna muttered. “You’re a god.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“How are we speaking right now?” Rayna stuttered. “I’m no cleric, I don’t hold any magic. You’re considered a major deity. Major deities don’t speak to mortals like this.”

“Well,” Sapientia started. “My sister and I aren’t like the other major deities, I’m sure you know that. Remember, I was just like you before I was what I am.”

“That still doesn’t answer how we are speaking like this?” Rayna asked. She looked around the courtyard. The edges were beginning to blur. “We are speaking right? I thought this was a dream.”

“It is and it is not a dream,” Sapientia mused. “My daughter is the one who created the spell. It’s called Dream Walking. It gives me a way to speak with you through a dream as if I was speaking to you in real time.”

“But why me?”

“Don’t we all ask ourselves that at one point or another?”

The sky began to dim, and they both looked up. Sapientia sighed.

“I believe you have more pressing matters on the horizon, my dear,” she said. “So let’s finish your lesson before you leave me.”

Sapientia offered Rayna to step up to the range again. The younger girl took her position again cautiously. Sapientia raised Rayna’s arms, the longbow still in her hands. She helped Rayna lineup her shot, and took a step back.

“Now, can you tell me what caused your hesitation?” Sapientia asked. “Are you afraid?”

Rayna shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?”

“If I am,” Rayna said. “Then I don’t know what it is I fear.”

“There’s plenty of things to fear, Rayna,” Sapientia said. “Do you fear change? Do you fear growing up?”

“I always thought change was a good thing,” Rayna answered, holding the tension. Her hands shook. “I was taught that change is needed in order to develop as a society, as people. It’s why my grandfather, Afi, taught me that amending past policies was a good thing. It was to accommodate the changes in the world. If they are not amended then people would continue to stagnate.”

“Do you see your father doing that now?”

“Gods no,” Rayna exhaled. “He hasn’t made a single change since he became king. He has done nothing but watch my grandfather’s people waste away.” Her form deflated, but she straightened again before Sapientia could correct her.

“And what of your father’s actions? What about them makes you hesitate to say something?”

Rayna side-eyed Sapientia.

“You’ve been watching me,” Rayna said. “Haven’t you?”

Sapientia gave her a sad smile. “I know you know the answer, my dear. You’ve just been too afraid to ask yourself. That is why I am asking for you.”

Rayna pointed her attention back to the target. Back to the steel arrowhead.

“I’ve lived the last ten years of my life, since my father left me here when I was four, making my grandparents proud,” she whispered. “And I don’t understand why, when my parents look at me now, they are so disappointed in the person I want to be.”

“Then why do you hesitate to ask them?”

Tears welled up, blurring Rayna’s sight. She bit the inside of her cheek. Her hands shook. She fought to steady them.

“It’s the same as asking why you hesitate to fire.”

Rayna let go of the arrow.

It sank into the bullseye.

She let out a shaking breath.

“Because I’m afraid that my father has destroyed the legacy my grandfather left behind, and that there is nothing I can do to fix it.”