Page 12 of The Cruel Dawn
Tears burn in my throat—the monsters came because I left this place. Because of that, this infant has no parents, and now, this young mother has yet another mouth to feed.
“I will fix this,” I say, cupping the woman’s cheeks in my hands. “This is my promise to you, to Nenefer and Tymy, too.” Her husband, Samose, lies in the dirt just steps away, lightless.
The work has started, and my promise soon manifests in sparkling water bubbling from new holes dug into the dried gully. Charred date palms burst with green fronds and plump fruit. The Eserime are doing what Supreme created their order to do: heal the land.
Villagers blue with life congregate around an altar just placed in the city square. Atop the altar, an alabaster statue of a woman with wavy hair holds a ball of light in her left hand and a sword in her right. The engraved plaque at its base reads,Celestial, Our Lady of Might and Life.
Zephar cocks his head and stares at me. “So… What happened?”
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. Then I tell him almost everything—from being arrested in Maford and Veril Bairnell’s death to confronting Elyn Fynal and Danar Rrivae at the Sea of Devour. “And I’m goingbackto Mount Devour,” I say, “and this time, I’m reaching the abbey and I’ll be demanding an audience with the Council of High Orders—”
“To reinstate—?”
“Everything.”
“Including Spryte? Because we can’t do our jobs if we can only move one step at a time.”
“Agreed.” I tap my amulet. “And I want this back with its full powers.”
“Or?”
“There is no ‘or.’ I need to do what I’m put here to do.”
“That’s right.” He grins and nods. “Destroy and rebuild Vallendorourway.”
I stop mid-step, crinkling my brows. “Actually, that’s not what I mean. I’m not here to destroy, at least not in the way—”
“Celestial!” More people arrive, their arms filled with baskets of dates, bottles of wine, breads, quilts, jars of honey, and gold coins. They place all of this before the altar. In their windows, doors, and posts, they drape colorful moth tapestries weaved in gold-and-red threads.
Zephar says, “Come,” and takes my hand again.
“But I need to get back,” I say, resisting. “There’s no—”
“Ssh. You just got here,” he says.
The massive sandstone walls of the Temple of Celestial stand, with each tiered level featuring heavenly and realm-bound scenes depicting both my light piercing the dark sky and my might as my sword lifts in battle.
Might and Life.
The grand hall boasts high ceilings and is lined with stone columns that stretch toward those ceilings like a forest of marble oak trees. Flickering torches illuminate murals depicting legends—from the creation of Vallendor Realm and the battles Celestial waged to protect this world, to paintings of Zephar and me embracing, our immortal love rendered in crimson-and-gold paint.
Another alabaster statue of my likeness stands at the front of the sanctuary. Her arms are spread—she is the welcoming mother ready to provide safety, comfort, and moments of respite.
The Sisters of the Dusky Hills stand at the rear of the sanctuary and sing a new song.
In battles fierce, where shadows lie,
You rise, oh Xisi, Warrior high.
With strength unmatched, your blades ablaze
Through every storm, you lead our way.
I would call Zephar by that name, Xisi, and most of those times, I’d be naked, and his hands would be lost in my hair.
The daystar moves to the western skies.
I need to return to the abbey.
