The ancestors wanted their Magics back safely in their own corporeal arms. And that meant that the Book of Pattegon had to be stolen from the Inner Council itself. Which in turn meant that a little bit of chaos had to be created.
(Rating: 15, Warnings: violence, graphic imagery, Genre: Fantasy, Action, Adventure) Featured Image Credit: Panoramas, Flickr
Everald and Nettlie sat on the roof of Everald’s Speaker residences and looked up at the stars.
It was a peaceful moment. The kind of moment where Nettlie felt that she could be totally present and calm, the kind of moment that was the rarest of glimpses into what love felt like.
“Why did you offer to help us?” Nettlie asked. It had been a question that had burned within her for the past week, ever since Mae and her had pulled off what was considered the most spectacular heist in the history of the Assassins.
She still had nightmares of Mae slitting her throat, however. Even though she knew that Mae had been able to pull her back to the land of the living, and even though her ancestors were waiting on the other side to care for her whilst Mae pulled off the other part of the trick that summoned her back to her body again, it still haunted her.
However, here with Everald she felt like the nightmares didn’t matter so much. They had needed to pull off a stunt so spectacular that no one would be listening to the rumours that the Speaker of the Politicians had supposedly switched out the Book of Pattegon for a fake.
It had been Nettlie’s great- great grandmother who had suggested the resurrection spell. Once Nettlie had returned the actual Book of Pattegon back to her family’s vault in the Inner City catacombs, the spirits of the dead had been more than helpful to help Nettlie in return prevent anything happening to Everald. Mae had instantly volunteered, her hunger to learn Magics driving her though the late nights learning, being taught by Nettlie’s ancestors how to decode the Book of Pattegon and unlock its secrets. Nettlie had volunteered to be the victim in the plan, because the resurrection spell required the spirits of the dead to help hold the intended soul in the place in-between life and death, and they couldn’t count on someone else’s ancestors being so helpful if Mae had simply picked someone at random in the room.
The trick had had its intended effect. The Regions had sprung into a new age of political turmoil, and in the middle of it all Everald stood as a force of calm in her gold Speaker’s robes. It was as if she represented a force of calm in the storm, and Nettlie wouldn’t be surprised if the Rael’s started backing for her to become the first Queen of Pangeium in three hundred years.
However, for now, they simply sat and stared at the stars. The stars were constant, for all the turmoil that happened in the world around them.
“Do you think everything will be okay?” Everald asked, turning her head to look at Nettlie. Even though Everald was terrified of heights, once Nettlie had managed to encourage Everald onto the rooftops, she did admit that the view to the heavens above was something remarkable.
The world below slowly falling apart, but the heavens above stayed as still as wind that evening. Nettlie twisted her fingers in between Everald’s holding onto them tight.
“We will be okay,” Nettlie said, “we will get through this together, and that’s all that matters.”