The Order of Elysia

Chapter 15- Elysia’s wish

The air inside the Arcane Training Hall was soaked in invisible tension, the large chamber pulsing with contained power.

"Most of you,” Warden Neachtain began, her voice crisp, "have been gifted with a glyph by now and yet most of you do not deserve them.” She turned slowly, letting the silence linger just long enough to curdle. "Today, you will stop fearing your glyphs and start mastering them because you are not here to admire your glowing skin like jewelry, as you will draw from the Veil and bend it until it obeys.”

Lilly sat on the cool stone floor at the edge of the training hall, her back pressed against one of the granite columns. The moment when magic became more than theory and diagrams, was supposed to be exhilarating, but to Lilly, it felt like watching a dance she hadn’t been invited to. At least Alaric was sitting at her side, watching with her, as the others practiced their glyphs.

The Arcane Hall buzzed with energy, not particularly loud, but alive and the faint scent of ozone hung heavy in Lilly’s nose. All around her, Disciples were scattered in groups, each practicing their unique glyphs under the watchful eye of Warden Neachtain.

Near the center of the room, the healers sat cross-legged in a circle, their sleeves rolled up, eyes narrowed in focus. One of them, a man with steady hands, cut a thin line across his forearm with a ritual blade, no deeper than a paper cut. A moment later, the flesh was pulled back together, knitting seamlessly under a pale green glow. Next to him, Kael stood, his body tense with concentration, as frost crept along the floor with each exhale, tendrils of ice curled from his lips, spreading out like a delicate spiderweb.

At one of the stone tables, Lilly could see a girl with freckles who held out a hand toward a simple clay vase. Her fingers trembled, but the vase did nothing. Then, with a flicker of golden light from her glyph, it shuddered, rose a few centimeters into the air and then dropped, smashing against the stone floor. She cursed under her breath, but her eyes were bright with triumph.

Konrad, serious as always, sat a little apart from the others, as his eyes scanned the pages of a thick book, his glyph flickering faintly on his neck and the information sank in, she was sure of that. Lilly also spotted Rurik and her glyph throbbed faintly beneath her skin by the sight of him. He seemed sure of himself, like always, as he leaned against a pillar, eyes closed, his glyph shimmering on the center of his forehead, but Lilly could not make out what he was doing or if it was having any effect at all. The glyph was roundish, but the lines were entangled and unclear and Rurik had gained it, about two weeks after Lilly had shot his hand.

"Raven Byrennen.”, Warden Neachtain’s voice snared through the hall, as she began to call up the students one by one for them to demonstrate their skills.

Lilly hadn’t told Raven or Alaric about her encounter with Warden Thorndale at the tavern, partly because she didn’t know how to describe it even if she tried. She couldn’t quite place it herself. He had been threatening, no doubt, but also... Or maybe it had just been the liquor talking.

His words echoed in her ears: "I’m still more dangerous drunk than most men sober.”

What had he meant by that? Was it simply another one of his threats? Probably. After all, he had made it very clear she should be afraid of him, he had said it to her without sugarcoating it and yet, there had been something strange in his eyes. Something that unsettled her far more than his words ever could.

She was pulled out of the thought by the sight of Raven, who now stood at the center of the Arcane Training Hall, her expression calm but razor-focused, the tip of her practice axe resting against the floor. Around her, students stepped back to give her space, not just because Warden Neachtain had gestured for it, but because everyone had already seen what happened when Raven activated her glyph.

"Begin!" Neachtain barked.

Raven inhaled through her nose, slow and deliberate. Her grip tightened on the haft of her axe, a heavy two-hander sturdy enough for magical channelling. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, but then her glyph ignited.

A flicker of light cracked along her arm, crawling down her veins like silver embers and then, with an exhale, flames burst along the blade of her axe, licking up the steel in hungry arcs of crimson and orange. Raven charged with no warning.

The magical dummy that had been prepared for them had little chance. Raven swung in a wide arc and as the flaming blade connected to it, the fire detonated outward, a controlled explosion that sent a ripple of heat across the room, but the dummy did not crack, as it was suddenly dunked in blue light which absorbed the harsh impact and left the figure standing as if nothing happened.

Some of the students flinched, others looked impressed. Raven didn’t break stride, as she stopped with her axe resting behind her shoulder, the flames still burning, her chest heaving only slightly. Her ice-blue eyes flicked toward Neachtain, but the Warden offered no praise.

The glyph Lilly had, wasn’t known to Neachtain, but it pulsed quietly beneath her blouse, like it wanted to move. She hugged her knees, watching Raven strike again and again, drawing admiration with every flare of power.

Lilly’s throat tightened; she wasn’t powerless, but she pretended she was and that was worse than being left behind. It meant sitting still while something inside her strained to move. It meant being overlooked, dismissed, or worst of it all, pitied.

Neachtain’s voice carried through the room again. "Focus your intent - don’t ask the Veil- command it!” She stood in the center circle of the classroom, cloaked in silver-green, her open, wavy hair gleamed like molten iron, as her eyes scanned the room like a hawk watching prey.

"You!”, she said suddenly, pointing a gloved finger. "Deren Macyr. Step forward.”

Deren, a Disciple with a small combat glyph in the shape of a shield on his wrist, stiffened before obeying. He looked nervous, but tried to cover it with an awkward half-smile.

"You think your glyph protects you.”, Neachtain said, circling him. "Show us.”

Deren raised his arm and a shimmer of protective energy bloomed around him, a translucent dome barely wider than his shoulders.

"Feeble.”, Neachtain snapped. "And cowardly. Do you even understand its resonance?”

"It’s a shielding glyph, Warden. It resists impact and-”

Before he finished, Neachtain struck the shield with her staff. Once, twice and on the third strike, the dome cracked and Deren staggered back, catching breath, but she didn’t stop. With a flick of her finger, her own glyph ignited, a jagged glowing flame shot from her palm, slamming into Deren’s shoulder. He cried out, stumbling to one knee.

"No one will hold back out there.”, she said coolly, as Deren gasped on the ground in front of her. "If you break from the pressure in here, you’ll die outside these walls.”

The class stood frozen as no one dared to move. Alarics’ jaw clenched beside Lilly. "She is enjoying this!”, he whispered under his breath.

Neachtain raised her voice again, glancing at their shocked faces. "Anyone who thinks compassion is part of my job is welcome to leave.”

Deren struggled to his feet, arm hanging limp, eyes wide and blinking back tears. "Dismissed.” Neachtain said, already turning away.

The bell echoed across the Isle, telling them the lunch-break had begun and so the Disciples left the Arcane Tower and streamed out of the mages quarters in loose clusters, straight to the dining hall, located in the center of the island. The large hall quickly filled with people and after Lilly, Alaric and Raven had picked up their trays of food they sat down at a table. Whilst balancing bowls of stew and plates of root bread, voices lifted in idle chatter and tired laughter.

Beside Lilly, Raven was tearing chunks from a crust of bread with visible annoyance in her expression and Alaric, ate slowly and methodically as always.

"You know it’s the same stew every third day?”, Raven muttered, inspecting a carrot chunk like it had personally offended her, but before Lilly could comment, two figures appeared around the corner, loud and unmistakable.

"Don’t tell me you started without us.”, Freya dropped dramatically onto the bench next to Lilly, nearly spilling her tray, Gavin following behind her and seating himself opposite to Raven.

"Maybe we didn’t want company.”, Raven muttered sarcastically. Gavin ignored her, stretching like a cat in the sun.

"You wound me, Raven. Deeply. Somewhere near the ribs.”, Gavin replied with a grin on his lips. They had spent more time with the other group over the past two weeks and Raven and Gavin had often used the time to bicker.

"Well, I can’t blame her.", laughed Freya, looking over to Gavin.

Lilly caught sight of two girls standing near the edge of the hall, both with braids, one brunette and one blonde. Their eyes were wide open, pretending to examine the huge mural, portraying a feast on the stone wall behind them. They weren’t subtle, as one nudged the other and whispered something behind her hand. The second woman giggled, trying and failing not to stare too openly at Gavin.

He sat half-reclined, his legs stretched out like he had all the time in the world, sunlight catching just enough on the line of his jaw to make it unfair. A playful glint in his eyes like he knew every thought you didn’t want him to know, danced just beneath the surface of his grin as he bit into a slice of bread.

Lilly exhaled through her nose, of course they were whispering about him. There was something about the way Gavin moved- that easy charm, the way his voice dropped when he flirted, not trying too hard but always knowing when he was being watched and how to act. He didn’t even seem to notice the girls by the wall, but Lilly was certain he did.

Then, as if on cue, he cast a sideways glance past their group, quick and effortless right to the two women. The girls froze mid-whisper, one of them giggling behind her hand, the other straightening up; Gavin didn’t even need to speak, the smirk said everything.

"Urgh.”, Raven said under her breath, shoving another spoonful of stew into her mouth. "It’s like watching a fox charm chickens.”

Gavin grinned, one eyebrow arching as he leaned toward her, then he shrugged his shoulders and casually replied: "I do try to serve the greater good.”

Lilly caught the flicker in her friend’s eyes, the sharp little look she tried to bury beneath indifference.

"That was quite the show from Neachtain earlier.", said Alaric seriously, trying to stir the conversation into a different direction, saving Raven from having to reply.

"You can say that again.", Konrad, who had now also joined them, chimed in, but he didn’t seem shocked, rather somehow excited.

"In order to train our glyphs properly, harsh measures and training methods are sometimes necessary.", he added. "It’s the only way we can develop our potential and learn."

"Easy for you to say. You’ve got a passive ability Neachtain can’t torture you with. That woman is seriously ice cold.", Raven responded harshly, throwing Konrad a mocking and yet challenging look. It seemed like he wanted to reply, but then he paused and decided to better stay silent than picking a fight with Raven.

"It must really suck not having a glyph yet, while everyone else is already starting to train theirs.", said Freya now, casting a sympathetic glance at Lilly and Alaric. Lilly blushed instantly and hoped Freya, Konrad and Gavin wouldn’t notice.

"Yeah, it really sucks.", she muttered, avoiding eye contact with Freya. Alaric just shrugged casually and said, "It’s not that bad." and Lilly wondered whether he only said that, so he wouldn’t receive more pity.

"If you want, I can practice with you. I’ve read a lot about glyph activation and there are more methods than just meditation to increase your chances of triggering one.", Konrad offered, but not out of pity, Lilly rather had the impression that he enjoyed playing the role of a mentor.

"That’s not necessary.", Lilly replied shortly, having absolutely no desire to spend hours on end with the know-it-all Konrad, who somehow looked disappointed all of the sudden.

Then, her mind drifted off to the stealth lessons they have had recently and how every step across the gravel had felt like it echoed through the air. Thorndale hadn’t even looked at her once during the exercise, not even when she made it halfway across the field without a sound. He acted as if she didn’t exist at all and Lilly wondered if it was due to their interaction at the inn. She was somehow bothered by the fact he had the audacity to ignore her like that, when he was supposed to train her.

"So, any news from home? I saw the couriers arrive this morning.” Konrad continued, turning towards Gavin, now settling in with a calmer presence.

Gavin perked up the way someone instinctively did when a memory hit too hard, too fast. His posture was no longer casual, his body tensed and the smirk disappeared from his lips. "Actually, yes, I got a letter from my brother.” He wiped his hands on a napkin and dug into his back-pocket, pulling out a folded parchment. "He’s still stationed along the western ridge near the Zarvathian border. Says there’s been some movement.”

"Troops?”, Lilly asked, her back straightening.

"Not officially.”, Gavin replied seriously, "He said there's been restlessness, more patrols, tighter formations. And one caravan went missing last week near the Gravemarch Pass. They’re saying it was probably just brigands, but…” He shrugged.

The group fell quiet for a moment, the rhythm of spoons and quiet chewing filling the space where laughter had lived just minutes before. No one said what they were all thinking, the shadow of Zarvath growing just beyond the edge of the map.

***

They were all seated in the large classroom of the Grand Amber Library, prepared to endure yet another of Warden Rannaith’s dreadfully dull lectures on the history of Solendris, like the second fortification or the grand revolution, but on this late autumn morning, she had not come alone. At her side walked Warden Monella, who looked as though he had aged several more years over the past few months. The thinning hair atop his head revealed a half-bald crown and he limped slowly into the room with measured steps, leaning into his wooden cane. His face was a map of lines, but his eyes still held the same cold, unmoving clarity.

"For those of you who do not yet know me.”, he said at last, his voice grave but steady, "I am Warden Monella, Archwarden of the Priesthood of the Sun. I serve not to comfort you, but to guide you, through truth and through the will of Elysia.” He began to walk slowly along the edge of the hall, the tap of his cane echoing in the silence between his words.

"What you have encountered in the Chamber of Gods,” he proceeded, "was not mere hallucination and illusion. It was a sacred test, a test by Elysia. Brugmansia, yes, it blurred your senses and pulled your thoughts from their roots.” He walked as he spoke, slow and deliberate, letting his cane tap the stone between each sentence. "But your fears, your dreams, your rage, your temptations all laid bare and in that state your minds and your bodies were weighed. Those who fell were not failures, they were sacrifices. Honoured and claimed by Elysia.” His tone was measured, but there was something deep beneath the words.

"The Chamber tested more than your resolve; it tested your intellect, your instincts, your will and your unity. But it was only the first test of many, as Elysia tests you each and every day you are here and today, you will offer your confessions to her. You will prove you are worthy once more. Follow me to the Temple.”

They moved in a slow procession through the Temple, past quiet halls hung with sun-stitched tapestries and golden icons. The air grew cooler the deeper they went and they entered the sanctum quietly. Along the edge stood carved confessionals - narrow alcoves shadowed by veils of incense smoke, each accompanied by a Priest of the Sun.

One by one, the Disciples stepped forward to give their confession. When Lilly’s name was called, she stepped into one of the booths , the smoke curling around her ankles like fingers and found herself seated across Monella himself. Her skin went cold, she didn’t have a good feeling about the Priest.

"Speak your burdens.”, the Priest almost commanded and his tone did not feel assuring to Lilly at all. How was she supposed to open up to him when he spoke to her like that and why did he think he had the right to pull her secrets from her?

"I have no burdens I can think of.”, Lilly sheepishly replied, hoping the Warden would leave it at that, but her hopes did not last long, as Warden Monella raised one eyebrow, but more in an annoyed manner than a surprised one. "Don’t lie.”.

He eyed her with such demand in his expression, that Lilly did not dare to defy him once more. His gaze pierced her, like it was able to see right through her and she knew there was no point in trying to hide the truth from him, but she was the one to decide which one of her burdens she was prepared to share with him. She deliberated for a moment before she pressed out: "I don’t want to be a Priestess.”

"Your path has been chosen. The Priesthood of the Sun has claimed you for its Dominion.”, the Warden explained matter-of-factly, with no compassion in his tone whatsoever.

"I will not pray for something I do not believe in.”, she muttered.

His smile was slight, but cruel: "Then I suggest you learn to believe.”

She wanted to stand up and leave, but she didn’t, she couldn’t defy yet another Warden.

"If you wish to truly earn your place among the Priesthood, you must find a way to obey and sometimes, obedience is established through pain.”, Monella coldly continued and Lilly felt the pressure behind his words; not loud, not overt, but he was threatening her subtly and slow. Like pushing on a bruise.

"Tell me, Disciple-”, he continued, "did your father believe? Did he pray when the noose tightened around his neck? Or did he curse the gods until the very end?”

Her hands curled into fists, nails pressing into her palms, swallowing down her anger. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her losing it now. The gods felt distant to her, more distant than ever, even though she was on the Temple Isle. She hadn’t prayed in months, hadn’t wanted to, not even once. "You want my truth?”, she asked, her voice barely beyond a whisper. "I think the gods turned their faces when I was born and I think you mistake submission for belief.”

His smile vanished. "You will serve either way.”, he said flatly. "One way with grace. The other… through death.”

When Lilly stepped out of the Temple, her legs trembled with a heat she didn’t recognize, it was not fear, but something hotter, rougher. Her throat burned from the incense and a bitter laugh almost escaped her lips. Had that been his goal? To push her, prod her, to make her crack just enough to trigger something sacred? Something they could use? A Priest’s glyph born out of righteous fury or forced emotion- how convenient for the Order.

"It is how Elysia wishes.”, Monella only said after she’d asked him why he was so utterly devoid of compassion, as if cruelty could be sanctified by divine will.

She didn’t look back, she didn’t want to think, she wanted to move- so she ran. Down the stairs, across the paved walkways and past the gardens that were too neat, too controlled. Her boots hit the packed dirt of the training grounds with a thud, the leather strap of her quiver bouncing against her hip as she stormed toward the archery range.

She saw people on the training ground, from a distance, bare-chestedly refining their combat techniques, but the shooting range was empty. It took her three dozen more meters to see that one of the fighters that had taken off his shirt was Warden Thorndale. His muscles were tense and his shoulders gleamed with sweat, his glyph was visible across his shoulder and neck, angular and alive.

He wasn’t sparring, he was fighting brutally. The young man opposite to him staggered back, clearly overmatched, but still with determination in his gaze. Thorndale’s strikes landed harder than necessary, it did not seem like a lesson, more like a friendly fight, but with the kind of rage that had no outlet in sanctums and corridors.

Thorndale did not see her, but she didn’t care, as she continued to approach the shooting range in fast strides, ready to find a release for her own rage. Serve in death. She took her stance, the leather grip firm in her palm, the string humming under tension. Five arrows, that was all she needed. Her glyph tingled along her ribs, a strange electric hum vibrating on her skin. f**k Monella. f**k Elysia. f**k the Order.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Each shaft buried itself into the black center of the target, one after another, violent and precise. She exhaled and her chest was heaving, when she realized she had hit the target’s with every single arrow.

She spun around, when she saw Thorndale watching; he had turned halfway, eyes locked on the target, on the arrows and then on her, a frown on his forehead, his expression filled with suspicion and maybe a little bit of surprise, but he didn’t come over, did not comment on her aim, he only turned around and proceeded beating the s**t out of his challenger.