Perhaps she wished to be strong enough to avoid harm from others. Strong enough to save the world from a global terrorist threat. In these regards, I am uncertain.
...
Several weeks later, Micah stared out the balcony. He and Angella had eaten dinner together in her chambers, and he was about to retire to bed. But still, he couldn't shake the scene he'd encountered a day ago.
He hadn't told anyone about the masked woman yet – at least, not after seeing that she was with the Horde. How could Micah explain? She was an enigma, a force of darkness and shadow. The reason he refused to admit, even to himself, was a strange familiarity that came with her presence.
The familiarity of dark magic.
Gazing at the black sky – blank except for the nighttime moons – Micah sighed. Light Spinner...why? he thought for the thousandth time since she'd performed the Spell of Obtainment. His teacher, the woman he'd trusted most, had died for longing of greater power.
Because Micah left her at the cauldron, when he had the power to save her.
What would she have done? Did Micah even want to know? Everyone back in Mystacor believed that Light Spinner had been manipulative, grooming Micah until he was of age and powerful enough to perform the Spell. Judging by how difficult their first year of school together had been, Micah knew that couldn't be completely true.
Micah gritted his teeth. It didn't matter whether Light Spinner had groomed him anymore, not when she had long since passed away. He had to catch the Lady and stop her, now that he had the means to use his power for good.
So Micah stood on top of the balcony rails, looking toward the Whispering Woods. Then he took a deep breath and careened off the edge of the palace.
Just before he could hit the ground, he slowed his descent with levitation. Then he looked toward the Woods. Micah should be going to bed, true, but this was part of his duty as a Rebellion general. As their future king. Tonight, he would hunt the Lady, and he would capture her.
He rushed into the woods, donning the navy blue cloak Angella had given him for his nineteenth birthday three months ago. Micah didn't know whether she'd be here. The plants in the Whispering Woods died around dark magic, and the hiss of the Lady's power was undeniable.
Deeper into the woods he went, the ambient sounds of the night a welcome crescendo. He leaped off of tall boulders, swung off of vines and thicket. Blood seeped from his hands, but Micah didn't care. In the woods, he was the pauper from Tropicilas again – not the refined king he would soon need to become.
His cloak billowed as he burned magic. Though Micah couldn't see any better than a non-sorcerer, the signatures of power around him told him where everything was. His talent in magic had blossomed in full bloom, and he was a warrior now. A warrior who had prey to catch.
Eventually, Micah slowed to a walking speed, wiping sticky hands on his pants. The nighttime air brushed his bare arms, and the deep blue grass rustled beneath his boots.
Micah came to a chasm, a deep pit of stairs. Moons. A Seraphite tunnel – Angella had told him about the extensive underground network beneath Bright Moon. A labyrinth. Something no one knew the purpose of.
I should see what's down here. He'd been in these woods, recognized the landmarks, but he had never seen this hole before.
A black shape shot through the tunnel, a blot of shadow to Micah's magic-enhanced senses. The Lady materialized near a tree, panting as she leaned against it.
Her gaze snapped up; Micah could read the expression well enough. You. Should he run? Should he confront her? She hadn't been violent before, but whether she attacked him now was the real question. The grass smoked around her feet, the life siphoned right out of it.
A low growl sounded behind Micah, and his skin prickled. Wide-eyed, the Lady motioned for him to step slowly toward her. Micah forced a swallow as he turned around.
A large dog hewn of black stone stood behind him. Onyxhounds. The underground dwellers were often used for hunting, but required very sound and precise training – and wild ones were dangerous.
The creature's growl dared him to take another step. Is she on my side? Micah wondered.
As the hound lunged, a numbingly cold mass collided with his ribs; Micah was knocked off his feet and slammed into a tree. The Lady panted from far off, but the onyxhound was still barreling toward him.
Micah threw up a protection spell, and the dog slammed into it, squealing as it crashed in the opposite direction. It didn't seem to notice the strange woman. "Lady!" he shouted. "Call off your hound!"
She adopted a battle stance, ebony hair billowing furiously. Then the Lady shot into the air with magic and cracked the dog's nose with a kick of her metal boots. A howl bellowed from the hound as shards of black fell to the ground. With this, the onyxhound ran into the forest, defeated.
Micah dropped the protection spell. The Lady stood there, crossing her arms at him tersely. She made a sign to him. Don't follow.
Micah tilted his head. "Lady Noble, you're with the Horde. As a Rebellion general, it is my duty to –"
Stop, she signed.
"No." Micah stood. "You're in Bright Moon's territory. So long as you are here, I must bring you to our camp as a prisoner."
The Lady narrowed her eyes. Then she made another sign. Shadow weaver.
Micah tilted his head. "What? What's a shadow weaver?"
She pointed to herself. Then, as if trying to explain, she created ribbons of darkness that blocked out the blue and gold speckles of magic. Shadow weaver, she signed again.
"Your name?" The Lady nodded, and Micah frowned. "Why are you helping me – aren't you with the Horde?"
Shadow Weaver nodded. "Thanks," he muttered. "For saving me. You didn't have to do that for your enemy."
She agreed with a nod of the head, her eyes turning up in a smile. Then she attacked, prompting Micah's adrenaline to spike again. As Shadow Weaver launched herself forward, he shielded himself, and she dodged the defense.
Micah summoned his sorcerer's staff. Shadow Weaver pulled out her own weapon, a lightning-infused spear. Micah's staff was infused with diamond and titanium; it would not break easily.
Micah levitated, coming down hard on her with the staff; Shadow Weaver blocked the shot. Their weapons clashed several times, the woman moving with blinding grace in the night, and Micah struggling to keep up as his stamina waned. Though he was a powerful man, he had spent much energy getting here.
Their stalemate ended as she missed a block; Micah's staff crashed into her shins, and she let out a grunt of pain as she fell to her knees. He leveled his weapon at her. "Yield," he ordered.
She looked up at him, her hair billowing less intensely than before. As she angled her face into a tilt – she seemed fond of that expression – a jewel at the top of her mask flashed twice.
Then she waved goodbye and dissolved into the night.
...
You now see how foolish this person is. There is another aspect of this idiocy that I will speak of later. But I believe I have introduced her enough for the sake of this essay.
...
The next day, Angella sat at her desk, filing petitions from Delvala as she waited for Micah to arrive. He'd sent a messenger to her room at a simply ungodly hour of the night to inform her that a strange person had been sighted at the Seraphite tunnel. Why it couldn't wait until morning, Angella wasn't sure, but Micah didn't sleep at normal hours. Or do anything the same way the royal court did.
It figured he would be late to his own meeting, she thought with a smile. This was the same man whom she had met – after four years of absence – submerged in a fountain, trying to fish wishing-well coins in order to buy lunch. She'd only later realized he was the same Micah who had apprenticed under Emeth Light Spinner.
And I'll be marrying him, she thought, stamping another petition. It had taken her a while to accept her love for him, considering he'd proposed to her when he was eighteen after only knowing her as a close friend. She was immortal; he was young. How strange, and yet right, such a thing felt to her.
Abruptly, Micah teleported into the room at just the right place to kiss her. She pressed her lips against his, cradling his bearded cheek in her hand and enjoying the gentleness of his mouth. Yes, he was so sweet, with his tender eyes and innocent nature...
Micah finally pulled away. "Morning, Angie."
"Good morning, my dear," she said gently. "What was it you wanted to say to me about the tunnel?"
Micah snapped his fingers. "Right. There was a Horde commander near it."
Angella's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"Relax," he said. "I wanted to get your help to secure it. You know more about the Seraphites than anyone on Etheria."
Angella sighed. That, I do. "Very well," she said. "Are you hurt? I don't like the idea of you being out so late."
Micah shook his head. "Just got a few mild scratches," he said, holding up bandaged hands. "Nell fixed me right up. So, are we going?"
Angella rose; she preferred the more administrative duties of Rebellion leadership, but she needed a break from reading Delvalian. "Tell me about the commander on the way," she said, taking Micah's hand and teleporting them both into the woods with the Moonstone's power.
They exited into the Whispering Woods, and as they walked, Micah kept holding her hand. He was handsome in a rugged way, his limbs muscular from his practice with sorcery and battle training. He wasn't the first man Angella had found attractive, but the first one she would be willing to wholly give herself to.
Micah spoke as they wandered through the woods; she trusted he knew where he was going, but it was difficult to tell with him sometimes. "This Horde commander...she uses dark magic."
That's what that cold chill was, Angella thought. "I felt her last night," she said softly. "We need to find out what she wants. She herself can't navigate the labyrinth at the end of the tunnel since she's a Fulminate, but she can send underlings that aren't."
Micah nodded. "What happens if she gets trapped inside?"
"Insanity, most likely," Angella said. "Seraphite structures don't like Fulminates, and the tunnel of which you speak was built by Transcendence's keeper."
Micah frowned. The elusive angel hadn't been seen in well over a thousand years, but Angella knew she wasn't gone. Her parents had said they could feel her, carrying the sphere of knowledge across space and time.
They arrived at the tunnel; Angella took a look at the moss. Strange. "I'll teleport us in," she offered, performing another transport.
They entered the tunnel, and Angella provided light with the Moonstone's power. Such magic at her fingertips was unbelievable, and she'd had full-fledged power ever since her parents had died in the Obtainment War.
"Hey," Micah said, pointing to a mural on the wall. "What's this?"
Angella directed her light to the stone. "The seven manifestations of Amenity," she replied.
"Is one of them missing?" Micah asked, pointing to the empty hands where Levity should have been. Angella hadn't told him yet; she'd been too afraid.
"Yes," she murmured. "I am supposed to carry Levity. Hope. But I don't have it."
"Why not?" Micah asked.
"My parents died in the Obtainment War," Angella said. "They didn't tell me where to find Levity. There's supposed to be a shrine somewhere on Etheria – a site for its power to coalesce. But moons, Micah...we've searched far and wide for it. It's not here."
"Are you sure? It could be somewhere we haven't colonized yet. How can a part of God be lost, anyway?"
Angella sighed. "Her power returns to the shrine of Levity whenever the guardian dies. I'm next in line to hold it, but..." she shook her head. "As long as Levity doesn't have an angel, the universe isn't set right."
Micah frowned – religion was hard for him to understand; he was a concrete man, someone who thought in more tactile terms. After a moment, her fiancé responded. "I wonder why Shadow Weaver was here." He sighed. "I don't know why, but I have a bad feeling about this. What happens if she tries to take the power of Levity for herself?"
Angella shook her head. "You can't. Only a steward can hold the power of Hope itself, and they must give it up to the appropriate angel. My steward...he died in the Obtainment War as well. The king of Arxia."
"Why can't the angel just take the power themselves?"
"Because taking power for yourself is selfish. Particularly the power of God Herself." She ran her hand along the wall. "I doubt she's looking for such power, Micah. Fulminates are not attracted to the power of Amenity, and it would be a difficult task for her to reach the shrine, wherever that may be. But there are many entry and exit points for these tunnels. That's likely why she wants to use them — for soldiers."
Micah nodded. "Then we have to ensure that she can't get to them," he said. "Should we post guards here?"
"I think that would be wise," Angella said, a weight having been lifted off her chest. She kept the rest of the information back; the Seraphites had hidden a clue to where the shrine of Levity was within these very tunnels. In fact, they had built a labyrinth to test the purity of the steward.
The only problem was that Angella didn't want to admit her failure. For the sake of the Seraphite followers, she couldn't show everyone what a coward she truly was.
...
Did you know...
- I had a difficult time naming this chapter, but eventually I settled on a bit of an oxymoronic name. One of the struggles with naming chapters is that you don't want to make the chapter title too disconnected from what's going on; plus, sometimes the chapter names are lame at first. You have to find one that sounds badass while also being accurate and not too...well...spoiler-y.
- I based this scene off of Zane and Vin from the Mistborn trilogy, by Brandon Sanderson. It's one of my favorite stories of all time.
- I added Seraphism to the Alura trilogy pretty late in the writing process on Alura. This was an intentional addition to enrich Angella's and Shadow Weaver's characters, and will be very important later on.
Tell me what you think...
- What was Shadow Weaver after in the Seraphite tunnel?
- What was your first impression of Queen Angella?