Morgan Rice - Night of the Bold

After a long time, she heard a voice.

“It is I, Kyra,” the voice replied. “You have summoned me. And I am more proud of you on this day than I can ever say.”

Kyra felt tears of sadness, mixed with joy, run down her face.

“I miss my father,” she said, surprised to find herself crying. “Very much.”

Her mother smiled back, reassuring.

“He is here with me now,” she replied. “He loves you and is looking down on you.”

Kyra felt her tears flow as she tried to steady herself inside

“What is it you seek, Kyra?” her mother asked.

Kyra reflected, trying to know what it was that she so desperately needed to hear from her mother.

“I need answers, Mother. You never told me. I seek to know who I am. Who you are.”

A long silence followed. Her mother looked back at her for a long time, her eyes shining blue. And finally, she nodded back and took a deep breath.

“I am of the ancient ones,” she replied. “Many millennia ago a prophecy was read to me, of the daughter I would have. The one who would change the fate of Escalon. The one who would rule the world one day. The one who is partly of us, yet partly human. The one true warrior.”

Her mother paused.

“That is you, Kyra. You are the chosen one. You are the leader, the warrior, that Escalon has always needed. You cannot even imagine the greatness that lies before you. You cannot even imagine the life you are going to lead, the worlds you are going to conquer. All of this, all that has happened, is but a prologue of your life to come.”

Kyra marveled, wondering what other twists and turns her life could possibly hold in store, what could possibly be bigger, more dramatic, than all that had already happened.

“I did not choose your father from amongst my people,” her mother continued, “but from the human race. I did not choose him from a line of kings. I searched far and wide for the man with the bravest heart, the strongest soul. Your lineage is your honor, your courage, your valor – more precious than any gems or royal bloodline.”

She paused.

“Too many people knew of the prophecy,” she continued. “Ancient Ones, rival kings, dark forces, all wanting you dead. The nation of dragons, too, wanted to seek you out, to tear you apart. You had to be hidden, Kyra. Your identity had to be kept secret, even from yourself.”

She paused, and Kyra’s mind reeled as she took it all in.

“You are your mother’s daughter,” she continued. “And you are your father’s daughter, too. Most of all, you are yourself. A human with powers, powers that are imperfect, yet still more perfect than any human’s. They are powers you can access if you believe in yourself – and powers that will fail you if you do not. They are powers built on faith. And faith, after all, Kyra, is all that we have.

“You are a very special hybrid, Kyra. There has never been anyone like you, and there never will be again. You have saved this land. You have made us all proud. Trust in yourself. Believe in your powers, and you shall rule Escalon forever. Yet remember: you also have the same power to fall into darkness. Use your powers wisely, and always stay in the light.”

Kyra’s heart pounded in her chest as she listened, all of it, her entire life, finally falling into place, finally making sense. She sensed it all to be true, and she felt closer to her mother than ever. She felt a great tension leaving her body as the truth was finally revealed.

And then, suddenly, her mother approached, walking out of the mist. Kyra’s breath froze in her throat. There was her mother, no longer a vision, but a real woman standing before her, stepping forward to embrace Kyra.

Kyra rose and threw her arms over her mother, embracing her with all she had. She wept as she felt her real mother in her arms for the first time, finally, for the first time, feeling at home in the world.

“I love you, Kyra,” her mother whispered into her ear. “I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you , Mother.”

And just as she finished uttering the words, suddenly, her mother was gone.

Kyra, now holding air, turned every which way, perplexed. She searched all the dark corners of the temple, yet saw nothing but the soft incense that hung in the air. Had it all been an illusion?

No. Kyra was certain it had not. Indeed, she looked down at her finger, feeling something, and she saw a glistening ring, one that had not been there before. It was purple, lined with sapphires. She knew her mother had placed it there. She closed her hand and opened it, marveling at the sparkling jewel, feeling the power of it. Feeling her mother now with her forever.

Kyra took a deep breath and slowly released it. She felt a great sense of peace. She felt her soul was restored.

She was ready, now, to face the world.

Aidan stood amidst the thick crowd in the grand, newly erected amphitheatre, swaying every which way as thousands of Escalonites gathered in close, all crowding the stage to watch Motley and his troupe give their wedding day performance. Cassandra by his side, White at his feet, contentedly eating scraps of meat off the floor, Aidan looked up and watched with pride as Motley gave the performance of a lifetime, keeping the entire crowd laughing with their comedy.

“I say, my dear wife, what are we having for dinner tonight?” Motley asked the actor on stage beside him.

“Whatever you decide to make me,” replied the actress.

The crowd broke into laughter as the farcical comedy went on and on. Aidan was glued by Motley’s wide array of comical expressions, and he could not help laughing himself. Motley had a special comic talent, strong enough to keep this entire city mesmerized, and he was on fine display today.

Aidan surveyed the stage and marveled that his acting troupe was now ten times the size it had been when they’d first met; he was even more in awe at the new amphitheatre, massive, holding tens of thousands of people, and he was filled with pride knowing that Kyra had assured it was built for them as the centerpiece of the new capital. She had put fantasy first, had given the actors the glory that had never been afforded to them in Escalon before. Motley thrived, seeming like a new man.

He deserved it, Aidan thought. He was, after all, no mere actor, but also a hero of the Great War. Finally, he and his actors could be respected in this land as much as warriors. In this new Escalon, under his sister’s direction, there was equal glory, side by side, for both war and art.

Aidan felt a squeeze of his hand and he looked over to see Cassandra smiling. Shaken from his reverie, he smiled back at her.

“Shall we leave this place?” she asked. “I would rather talk to you than hear this play again.”

Aidan nodded and led her out of the crowd, pushing their way through the mob, White joining them and snatching a piece of chicken out of an unsuspecting person’s hand, until finally they all exited the soaring, arched stone gates of the theater.

The crowds gone, the noise behind them, finally they could breathe again. Aidan took a deep breath and led her as they strolled through the new, shining white marble streets of the capital, White running excitedly up ahead of them, smelling everything.

Aidan took it all in as they went, as in awe as he was the first time he had seen it. Not only was the city new, but everything on this day was strewn with roses and elaborate wreaths, the red flower petals complementing the shining white marble. Warm summer winds rolled in off the ocean, ripe fruit and flowers hung from bushes and trees all around them, and it felt like no Escalon he had ever known. This coast was so different from the cold, howling winds of the northwest, of Volis, and he admired Kyra’s foresight and wisdom in choosing to build the new capital here. Their ancestors had had it right, and she had wisely deferred to their wisdom.