The Chronicles of Faylon: Saahira | Chapter 33 (Patreon)

Saahira’s feet were just as heavy leaving Lillith’s classroom as they had been on her march there. The tiny hope that she’d find any kind of solace in knowing the truth had evaporated, leaving her feeling…

What was this bleakness made of, exactly?

-You pity that pathetic excuse for a demon?-

It wasn’t just pity, though. It was guilt that something she’d done had tempted Madora and Aieuz to take her life. Anger that she still didn’t know if Dimitri or Talia had played a part in this mess. Fear that Lillith saw the need to accelerate Saahira’s studies in demonology.

-He tried to kill you.- The same burning desire to rip Aieuz apart with her teeth returned, and she clenched her jaw. The choir wanted him rent to tattered shreds. It wasn’t enough that he was dead.

Stop. I don’t want your influence. The sensation abated, and Saahira sipped a thin stream of air between her lips.

The sickening sound of the headmaster’s cane plunging down Aieuz’s throat repeated in her ears without mercy, like one of Isa’s silly songs she made up just to drive her older sister crazy. But this was far more grotesque.

Gods, the demon’s roars. And that final, guttural groan of Madora’s name—

Saahira pressed a hand against the cool stone to steady herself.

Despite Madora’s carefully composed expression, the headmaster had insinuated that to some extent, Madora had felt Aieuz’s pain. Both when Lodovico was torturing him and when Headmaster Erato had killed him. Would Saahira need to prepare for such things? To steel herself against a similar torment and agony?

-Saahira.-

Even if the choir claimed she wouldn’t have to kill them, that could simply mean by her own hands. Not the headmaster’s or Lillith’s. If she really did summon a Leliouria, a worldender, would they—

-Saahira.- The voices sharpened; a dozen hands pulled at her thoughts and turned her attention toward them. Saahira looked up—at some point, her feet had stopped moving. She hadn’t made it to the staircase yet. -This kind of empathy is far beneath you. It is weakness. Your false expectations of the future hinder your sight. You must control your fear instead of letting it control you.-

A frown twisted Saahira’s lips, and frustration bubbled in her chest.

-Observe. You ready a response fueled by your anger.- They made a sound of dismay between the clicking of six tongues and a hiss. -Conquer your thoughts, lest your emotions rule you, impairing your magical abilities and your logic. Intent and purpose drive more than the arts, Saahira. Use them in your decisions. Your motivations.-

Why? Saahira demanded. Why remain silent when I need you, then scold me now?

-A Bynraen x'lori should never pity an unworthy demon.- The ferocity in their tone iced Saahira’s frustration.

Not even you?

A wry laugh like shattering glass echoed in her mind. No words, only that sound and sensation that consumed her as if she’d broken through the surface of a frozen pond. Saahira shivered.

She focused on the torchlight, wishing to feel its warmth on her skin, but it never seemed to reach her. As she fought for another deep breath, Aieuz’s venomous disdain resurfaced, and a latent question that stirred in her chest shifted into her thoughts.

What will you ask of me? In our pact?

Heat rushed through her veins. A strange weight pressed against her tongue. She gasped. They laughed again, but the shiver it invoked was far from chilling.

-Complete the ritual. Only then will you know.- 

Of course.

Saahira tore her eyes away from the fire, chewed her lower lip, and forced herself toward the stairs.

“Sahiiiiraaaa!” Melony howled from the front steps of Idrian Block.

The last of the day’s light glimmered over the horizon as sanctum servants balanced long canes in their palms to light the decorative oil lamps that lined the walkways. Melony’s black silhouette bolted from the dormitory’s steps across the cobblestone, meeting Saahira at the far edge of the Emlynen Block.

“I’ve been waiting all day to tell you about my run! I tried knocking on your door six times before an angry bat chased me out of the building. Wretched little monster,” Melony grumbled. “And then the king found me and told me to just sit there. Can you believe that? Me? Just sit there like we’re in class?” She scoffed as a lamp bloomed to life beside them. “But after a while I did. There was nothing else to do, so I just sat there. I was so patient. You would have been so proud of me. And I—” Her brow furrowed, and her lips puckered. “You look upset again. Wait, did something else happen while I was gone? Who keeps upsetting you?!”

Saahira waved both hands, afraid that every student in Emlynen and Idrian would hear Melony’s cries. “No, Melony, everything’s fine. Really.” Wanting to change the subject, Saahira grasped for something else. “It sounds like your throat’s completely healed?”

“Yes! It is! You know, it’s funny”—Melony glanced over her shoulder just as Cyprus joined Saahira’s opposite side, tucking a book beneath his arm—“there was a potion waiting for me on the common room table when I woke up yesterday. It got rid of the pain and made my howls perfect.” She narrowed her eyes at Cyprus. “The note didn’t have a name.”

“Still on about the elixir?” Cyprus asked.

“Just say you made it for me! Be the king I know you are!”

Cyprus shrugged before turning his attention to Saahira. He studied her face and offered a gentle smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Ekkel’s moons! Of course I’m hungry! I told you a thousand times!” Melony cried. Mouth still agape, she blinked, looked at Saahira, and then slowly pursed her lips. “Ah. You meant Saahira.”

Saahira returned his smile. Even if the meeting had stolen her appetite, she knew she should eat something. “Yes. I am.”

Melony hooked her arm through Saahira’s, linking them at the elbows as they strolled past the dormitories, over the connecting bridge, and into town. Her skin was searing, almost inhumanly hot, through Saahira’s thin dress. “Cyprus told me about your trip to Endwind—”

“Endolwyn,” Cyprus corrected.

“Close enough. Anyway, was there really a tower with a hundred floors of food?”

Saahira’s smile widened. “It was thirty, I think. But yes.”

“And there’s a challenge to eat something on all of them? What do they give you at the end? An official title?” Melony gasped. “Oh! Maybe at the very top, there’s the King of Endwind—”

“Endolwyn,” Cyprus and Saahira said.

“—and he has you kneel, and announces to the whole city, ‘Melony is our newest champion!’ And I wave the bone of my final prey that I’ve picked clean to a cheering audience.”

Saahira laughed. “With your face still covered in sauce and shreds of meat beneath your fingernails. They’ll gift you with a cape and a trophy. Bards on Ludus’s Symphony will sing your name.” The weight of the meeting began to lift from her shoulders. Vendor stalls were closed for the evening, the last of the merchants collecting their empty crates and leftover goods. Crowds of students rushed towards the Final Bar while they maneuvered through to the Last Gasp.

“Yes! I must do it. I have to complete this challenge.” Melony clenched her free hand into a fist and held it near her chest. “I have never failed a hunt before.”

“Only alchemy,” Cyprus teased.

Melony snapped her attention towards Cyprus, her expression the perfect mixture of shock and offense.

Saahira cut in before Melony could retaliate. “Tell me about your run.”

Completely forgetting her qualm with Cyprus, Melony’s face brightened and she tightened her arm around Saahira’s. “The other two therianthropes are amazing. First there’s Rorick from Bristlewood.”

“Bristlewood is due north of here, right along the coast,” Cyprus supplied.

“Right! So Rorick’s a fourth year, and he doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t have to,” Melony continued. “He sees everything that’s going on, and he’s so strong and imposing. My father used to tell me that the tribe he’s from is the most feared in Chivari, and I can see why. Rorick’s wolf is so sleek and huge and completely black. Like a perfect shadow. A human eye could never see him in the darkness.”

If Melony didn’t speak with so much reverence in her voice, Saahira would have assumed her friend had taken a shine to this Rorick. But the way her words and face glowed was as if she spoke of a god.

The Last Gasp’s chairs were full, save for their usual corner spot. They slid into their seats, and Jaxson waved merrily from the group he was tending to across the room. The sounds and scents warmed Saahira’s skin. The restaurant was beginning to feel like home.

“And the other therianthrope?” Saahira prompted as she pulled her chair closer to the table.

“Yes! Aghilas! He takes a leopard form, which I’ve never seen before,” Melony said excitedly. “But what’s really incredible is that his tribe is in Aṣálẹ!”

Saahira looked from Melony to Cyprus and tilted her head in thought. Then it struck her. “Wait, Aṣálẹ doesn’t have the Naucthemeral, right?”

“Exactly!” Melony said as Cyprus nodded with approval. “So I asked him a ton of questions. His tribe follows the Laws of Orun just like the rest of Aṣálẹ, since Ekkel didn’t bring them his Darkest Days. But thanks to so much sunlight, Aghilas is just as good a hunter in his human form as he is in his leopard form. He’s in his third year at the sanctum, and you should see how he uses his magic. He has an earth affinity like mine, and he would switch back and forth between forms mid-run as easy as breathing to take down our hunts. I want to be just like him. So bad.”

“Leopards don’t howl, though.” Saahira laughed.

“No! He roars! And he bellows! And he runs even faster than me with these silly little human legs. Aghilas’s tribe spends all of Orun’s Golden hours perfecting the hunt with every inch of their bodies.”

“Oh? Have Ekkel’s Darkest Days made you neglect your human form?” Cyprus asked.

“After watching Aghilas, I think so. Even Rorick said he’s trained more outside of his wolf form after they started running together. With my tribe, we so rarely leave our wolf forms that it’s easy to forget how powerful our human forms can be. I have so much to learn from them!”

“Did you try switching between forms during your run?” Saahira asked.

“Moons, no. It’s been so long since I’ve run on all four legs. I couldn’t bear to go back so quickly.” Melony giggled. “Rorick did, but just once. It was wild. He transformed mid-stride, used a fire spell on us all to run even faster, and then changed back. Aghilas did the same a few times with earth spells that made us lighter, our bodies harder. I’d never thought about weaving magic in between runs like that. It was awesome!”

“That is clever thinking,” Cyprus agreed.

“It sounds like that would be very useful for the rest of your tribe, too. You can help keep them safe,” Saahira said.

“I know! I keep imagining leading my own pack, casting for them all as we hunt.” Melony shivered with delight. “I wonder if my great-great-great-great grandfather did that?”

Jaxson served them ale and the evening’s meal with a quick hello and apology that he couldn’t linger. Saahira didn’t mind—it meant business was well and there was no worry of them closing. The plate of sliced meats, cheeses, and breads looked like a heartier version than what she’d had at the Final Bar, and the ale was a welcome distraction.

“What did you hunt last night?” Saahira asked.

“Oh, yeah! Odalric’s forests have the best beasties. We found this enormous five-horned elk out for a late-night drink. This thing was twice as tall as me. Rorick was such a natural leader, and Aghilas fell into perfect place behind him. I don’t remember the last time my heart raced so fast. And, Ekkel as my witness, that elk was a fighter. But with Rorick’s fire spell, we dodged and dashed without a thought. It was no match for the three of us.

“They let me make the kill, and it felt so good. The muscles tearing between my teeth, the warm, fresh blood on my tongue, and mmnh, that delicious smell. It was a feast.”

As Melony spoke, black blood oozed from the meats and cheeses on Saahira’s plate, coating her food in a thick, pungent goo. The bread sizzled and melted beneath it, sending hazy strings of smoke into the air. She quickly dropped the piece of bread she was holding and reeled back.

When she blinked, it was gone.

“Saahira? Did I go too far again?” Melony asked, concern overtaking her joy.

Saahira shook her head and grabbed her ale, stealing three long gulps. She moved to replace it on the table, thought better of it, and cradled it to her chest. Something to look at that wasn’t her food.

“A phantasm?” Cyprus asked gently.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Hm.” Cyprus brought his chair closer and lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to press, but do you want to talk about your meeting with Lillith?”

“Meeting…?” Realization struck Melony like a lightning bolt, and she gasped. “That’s right! That’s where you were! About the hex! I’m so sorry. I’m the worst friend.”

“No, you aren’t. Far from it—”

“The king even told me a dozen times. I was just so excited. I’m sorry.” Melony rubbed her face with both hands.

“Melony, really, it’s all right.”

Melony dropped her hands to her lap. “Is that why you looked so upset?”

“It is. But I wanted to hear about your run. You’re always listening to me.”

“And so you heard! Now it’s your turn.”

Saahira brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes behind her ear. “They found the demon and the caster,” she began quietly. “Her name is Madora. She was a servant of the school for four years.”

Cyprus’s eyes widened. “I’m familiar with the agreements the headmaster makes with those who work here. The punishment for harming a student is death.”

“It is. They killed Aieuz, her demon, while I was there, and Headmaster Erato said Madora will hang for what she’s done,” Saahira replied.

“I should have expected the headmaster to be there,” Cyprus said.

“Lillith, Headmaster Erato, and Professor Lodovico were all there.” Saahira took another swig of ale.

“But why? Why would she want to kill you?” Melony asked, slack-jawed.

“Neither of them would say. Even when Professor Lodovico…tortured Aieuz.” It was difficult to say aloud. They’d tortured the demon without a shred of mercy. She drummed her fingers along the sides of her mug and worked to keep the minimal contents of her stomach in place.

“Did they torture Madora?” Cyprus’s tone was flat and level as if he’d simply asked for the time.

“No.”

He frowned. “Chivari law aside, perhaps they should have.”

It was a scene Saahira didn’t want to imagine. She took another drink and swallowed hard.

“I certainly would,” Melony snarled. “No one harms my pack.”

A desire to point out her own inability to transform came and went in a flash. Melony’s sentiment was well-meaning. “I don’t think it would have helped. She could feel Aieuz’s pain, and she still said nothing. But Aieuz kept calling me a bynraen x'lori. Lillith said it means a ‘Paramour of Chaos.’ Have either of you ever heard of that?”

“I have not,” Cyprus replied. Melony shook her head as she inhaled an entire stack of cheese.

Saahira focused on the wood grain at the bottom of her cup. Tiny drops of ale slid from the top to the bottom, following the winding patterns. “Professor Moborí’s demon called me the same thing last week. Demons use the term for a person chosen by the Six who can summon a Leliouria.”

“Which one was that again?” Melony asked, her mouth full.

“A worldender,” Cyprus murmured.

“Wait, really?” Bits of cheese flew across the table while more stuck to the back of Melony’s throat, sending her into a coughing fit.

“One day you will learn to eat properly.” Cyprus handed Melony her mug. “Lillith said she must kill Leliouria summons, correct?”

“She did.”

“Then why go through the trouble of killing you? Why would Madora risk her life if the Leliouria would be killed upon its summoning?” Cyprus seemed to pose the questions to no one in particular, crossing his arms in thought. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

After a long drink of ale and a few more sputtering coughs, Melony rejoined the conversation. “Maybe it has something to do with power. Many, many moons past, therianthrope tribes used to kill for leadership positions in packs. There are so few of us now that we would go extinct if that still happened, but I know there are a lot of beasts out there that still follow that rule.”

“That would require the Leliouria to live,” Cyprus countered.

Jaxson swept by their table to swap empty mugs with filled ones and paused when he noticed Saahira’s barely-touched plate. “Can I fetch ya something else, lass?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.” She pushed the plate towards an eagerly twitching Melony.

“Ah, but you need to eat. I’ll speak with the wife.” Jaxson vanished before she could protest. Melony stuffed three slices of meat into her mouth.

“Headmaster Erato said they’d killed two summoned Leliouria in the past. However, he’d never heard the term ‘Paramour of Chaos,’” Saahira continued.

Cyprus tapped a finger against the inside of his arm. “Then perhaps there’s more to it than simply summoning a worldender.”

“Maybe.” Saahira shrugged. With the ale settling into her limbs, she felt exhausted. It had been a long, busy day, crowned by an interrogation that would haunt her nightmares. “Lillith did request that I study with her on every future Oriana. So hopefully I’ll have more to tell you soon.”

“I believe that’s wise. Maybe speed your summoning,” Cyprus said.

“I think that’s the idea.”

They sat in thoughtful silence for a time while Melony cleaned her second plate. A man at another table barked a hearty laugh that boomed against the walls, spawning an aftershock of chortles at the tables around him.

Jaxson returned to Saahira with a steaming bowl of porridge, strings of honey and fresh-cut fruit lining the top. “Easier on the stomach, says my wife.” He patted Saahira on the shoulder with a smile. “You need your strength.”

“Thank you, Jaxson.” Saahira took a bite to appease him, but it really was delicious. It warmed her throat and settled well after she swallowed. With a nod of approval, Jaxson left the table, and she continued to eat.

“Okay, so what if you summoned a Leliouria, and then ran away really, really fast?” Melony asked. “Think of all of the glintspheres you could make explode!”

Cyprus shook his head with a roll of his eyes. “Of course that’s your first thought.”

“Because it would be amazing! That sound! The lights! The chaos! Every book in the world would talk about it.”

“Yes, I’m certain that’s the part that texts would mention.” Cyprus chuckled.

Saahira concentrated on her food and let the light banter of her friends distract her. A defiant thought had planted a seed squarely in her mind, sprouting with Aieuz’s death.

Whatever demon it was that she summoned, she wanted it to live.

Even a worldender.