The night sky was dark with the crickets chirping and the fireflies flittering about. Illya walked slowly through the forest, deep in thought.
So I will be carrying out the same tasks my mother once had…
She clutched the bundles of cloth in her arms.
Illya wondered if she was capable of taking her mother’s place as High Priestess and as the vessel for the gods. With such a huge responsibility weighing on her shoulders, she could feel the anxiety creeping into her heart.
“Now then, there are a few things you must know before your anointing ceremony at the festival.” Shivara began to explain.
“Anointing? What anointing?”
“Why, it’s to celebrate you becoming High Priestess and Celestial Envoy, my dear!”
Illya jerked from Shivara’s grasp. “Me? I can understand becoming High Priestess but as Celestial Envoy? I couldn’t possibly uphold such a grand a title. Not…” she paused as he looked down. “Not like my mother…”
“Oh, come now! It is because you are Ishta’s child that I chose you. You have the potential.” Shivara embraced Illya tenderly like a mother with her child. “I know you’ll be a wonderful vessel.” Shivara pulled away as she continued to go further into the temple.
“Now, you must know that, as High Priestess, you will have authority over the other priestesses but cannot go against an Elder Priestess. As the Celestial Envoy, you must remain neutral to any and all disputes. A Celestial Envoy must be of pure body, mind, and soul; never allow a human to taint you.” Shivara continued her explanation.
Illya let out a heavy sigh.
“Can I really be the Celestial Envoy? I mean, I’m not even fully human; isn’t that cheating?” She stared at the snow white robes in her arms.
Suddenly, there was a light tug on her tunic.
“Huh?”
Looking down, there was a strange creature. It looked like a wolf but not really an animal at all. Instead of flesh and fur, it was made of twigs and briers with gems for eyes. “You’re one of father’s familiars. What are you doing here?” She looked around her, feeling the atmosphere. It was quiet, even the crickets stopped chirping. “Wait, where is father?” she questioned.
The creature tugged on her tunic again, but this time, harsher. Every inch of her knew something was wrong. “Take this to the temple.” She handed over the garments to the familiar before racing through the forest to the center.
An old stone temple was the sanctuary at the center of the Leksaram Forest and it was Illya’s home. She entered in a hurry, frantically looking for her father. She found him, collapsed near the alter.
“Father! Father, what’s wrong?”
Mikhai groaned as his daughter helped him up.
“Father, what happened?”
“I encountered some trouble while escorting that human…” He took a sharp breath through clenched teeth. He raised a hand as a small glowing butterfly fluttered on his index finger. “Here, this will show you.” he gestured, motioning the butterfly to fly. It landed on the tip of Illya’s nose.
Quick images flashed through her mind of a group of men overpowering Mikhai. It was clear that these men were soldiers. Mikhai did his best to protect the foreigner but was unfortunately stabbed by the very human he tried to keep safe.
Illya stood abruptly, her hands in tight fists at her sides. “How dare they! Have these outsiders no shame?” she exclaimed. “Illya, you mustn’t let your emotions get the better of you…” The injured god let out a raspy cough. “They are only human, just as your mother was.” he stated. “It is because of them that mother is dead!” She knelt down beside him. “Father, I recognize the colors they bore. It is the same as the soldiers who took mother from us; the same soldiers who set the forest on fire that very day too! It is because of them that you-” she trailed off, her gaze cast down.
Mikhai grabbed Illya’s hand. “There’s no need to worry, my child. I will be fine. I just need to get to the sanctum beneath the alter.” he said in a soothing tone, in hopes to ease his daughter’s concerns. Illya furrowed her brows before letting out a sigh. “But your amulet?” she inquired.
“It is but a trinket, don’t worry child.”
Illya looked down at Mikhai, who had now fallen into a slumber within a spring that pooled around a tree beneath the alter. Moonlight spilled from above, making the water look like liquid silver. She went back above to the temple.
“I’m sorry, Father. But it’s not just a trinket…” she whispered to herself. She grabbed a tattered cloak and her own mask. With the her father’s familiars, she followed the tracks to the other side of the forest, in the direction of the kingdom of Shidial.
Soon, she found herself within the king’s palace.
By the gods, please don’t let it be in the king’s possession.
She peeked around the corner.
Of course, there are guards. Alright, think! I need to get into that room somehow.
Illya frantically searched around her. Down the hall, faint voices could be heard getting closer.
What now?
A small group of women were approaching the room.
Oh, great… Courtesans… Wait! That’s it! A simple glamour spell should work.
Illya closed her eyes and focused. A tingling sensation, like sparks, covered her body. She breathed in then out slowly. Upon opening her eyes, her countenance had changed. She looked like a normal human.
As long as I don’t speak, I should be able to get in.
Illya waited for the group to pass before she joined them from the back. The women waited for the guards to open the doors, giving them sleazy grins as they entered. Once inside, the women all went into the inner bed chambers.
Okay, now that I’m in, I need to find father’s belongings.
Boisterous laughter came from the inner chamber as Illya quietly searched the room. She caught sight of the others; drinking, eating, and merrymaking without a care in the world on a pallet of colorful pillows on the floor. She couldn’t understand how they could live so carefree, indulging themselves with worldly possessions. She went to continue her search when she noticed the man in the room.
He was surrounded by courtesans, all attending to his every whim. He had a handsome face and strapping physique. He was wrapped in the finest robes and jewels. The gold necklaces, bracelets, and rings blended nicely with his sun kissed complexion. His hair was a soft platinum with streaks of crimson. He let out a loud laugh as his cup was refilled with red wine. The very sight made Illya sick so she continued her search.
That must be the king… But he’s so young, maybe around my age.
She began to search a desk near the balcony when a low growl came from underneath. Puzzled by what it could be, she crouched. Oh, great, a lion cub. She thought it strange the cub was alone. She motioned for it to be silent but it ran off behind. She shrugged her shoulders and searched every nook and cranny.
“My liege, what is this atrocious thing?”
“I don’t know. My advisor came back with it along with this pendant, saying it was a gift from the neighboring kingdom.”
Oh no…
Illya spun on her heels. She crept back to the doorway leading to the adjacent room. Her fears were affirmed; in the king’s hands were the items stolen from her father. She bit her lip in frustration. This just complicated things! To make matters worse for her, she was spotted by the king.
"You! Servant girl!”
Illya flinched slightly then pointed to herself.
“Yes, you! I know you’ve been skulking around. Get over here and serve your king.”
“Oh, but my liege, she doesn’t seem the type to play.” one of the courtesans retorted. “Nonsense! It is always a pleasure to serve your king. Now come girl.” he demanded, patting the empty pillows next to him.
Illya was reluctant at first but she knew she needed to get close. She kept her eyes cast downwards as she approached the king, sitting next to him. He pulled her close by the waist, breathing the rich earthly scent of her hair. Illya stiffened, her fists clenching the tunic of her glamoured appearance. The man leaned closer to her.
Oh, by the gods! He reeks of alcohol!
He handed his cup to woman closest to him. “Come now, let me get a good look at you.” He lifted her head but, after looking at her, his brows furrowed. “I’ve never seen you here before. What’s you’re name?” Illya pointed to her throat.
“Oh! My king, perhaps she can’t speak.”
He took a moment to think it over. “Perhaps I would have believed that if not for your eyes…” He grabbed the air around her and pulled as if removing a cloth. Illya’s appearance reverted back. Her glamour torn away by a human with no inkling of magic essence in him.
Without a second thought, Illya grabbed the closest cup and threw its contents onto the king’s face. She lunged for the amulet and skull but the king collided with her, both tumbling on the floor. The women panicked, calling for the guards. The man managed to pin Illya to the floor.
“You’re no ordinary thief if you can use magic. Who are you?”
Illya was silent, staring at the now irritated king. His blonde hair was tinged lightly pink from the wine that dripped down, eyes blood shot. A lone jade pendant in the shape of a flower around his neck caught Illya’s eye.
That pendant?!
A moment of silence fell when the bustling footsteps of soldiers burst into the room. “I wanted to resolve this without violence while you were drunk…” she paused as she heaved the king off of her with her feet. “…but apparently not drunk enough.” she scowled through her mask. She bid the king a sarcastic farewell, placing her father’s amulet around her neck as she made her way to the balcony.
“Halt!”
The tip of a cold blade pressed against the side of her neck.
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