Leslie Moore - Griffin's Destiny

“I should be getting back to Amsara,” Magnes said. He didn’t relish the all-night ride, but knew he couldn’t stay.

Livie nodded in agreement.

Magnes pulled open the cottage door and stepped into warm night. Crickets shrilled in the trees. The big black dog, who had been asleep against the side of the house, woke up with a whuff and climbed ponderously to his feet. He ambled over to sniff Magnes’ boots. Magnes reached down and scratched behind the dog’s floppy ears, receiving a satisfied grunt in reply.

“I know I wasn’t very welcoming earlier,” Livie began softly, “but it was a shock, seeing you at my gate after…”

“You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

“It really is good to see you.”

Magnes held out his hands and Livie took them without hesitation.

“My sister is an excellent commander. She’ll look out for her levies as best she can. Hopefully, this war will be over soon and Jonus will return to you, safe and whole,” he said.

“Magnes…” Livie’s voice faltered and she hung her head. The darkness hid her tears, but he could taste them on her cheek as he kissed her.

“Thank you for my daughter and my life,” he whispered. He turned and crossed the yard with quick steps.

Livie followed and stood beside the gate as he mounted Storm. “Take care of yourself,” she said. “Try to find some happiness.”

“I’ll try. I mean, I will,” he replied. He turned Storm’s head and urged him forward. The big horse snorted and stepped out smartly, eager to move after standing still for so long. Magnes turned once to look back, but if Livie still watched, the shadows hid her from his sight.

He had wanted to say so much more to her, but mere words could never convey what filled his heart. He fervently hoped she understood just what she had done for him.

I have a daughter and her name is Rose!

He wanted to shout that name from the highest mountaintop.

The moon rode at the top of the tree line, a silver half-disk, shedding just enough light to see by. Storm loped easily along the well-worn path, sure-footed in the dimness. With each hoof beat, Magnes felt a bit more of his depression crack and fall away. His soul had been imprisoned for so long, this new-found joy felt odd and a little frightening. He knew now that the peace he thought he had found while living with the Eskleipans had been nothing more than numbness. The pain had always been there, festering just beneath the surface. His homecoming had merely hastened its inevitable release.

Livie had given him the most precious of gifts-a reason to live. Even knowing his child would be raised by another man did not diminish his gratitude.

Our love made that baby , he thought. A love that’s changed, true enough, but it’s still there. Someday, when the time is right, Livie will tell Rose about me.

Shortly after sunrise, Magnes retired to his bed and for the first time in many weeks, he fell asleep without the aid of drink. He dreamed he danced with a merry little dark-haired girl, and the next morning, he awoke with a smile on his lips.

Ashinji dreamed he stood within the hollow heart of a mountain. Sharp spires of rock, some thrusting from the floor, others hanging like swords from the ceiling, hemmed him from all sides. Though total darkness should reign here, a ruddy glow bathed the stones in hues of blood.

How and why he had come to this place, he could not guess. He took a step forward…

… and stumbled across a body lying on the uneven floor. Cautiously, he bent over the prone figure, but a shadow obscured its features.

A voice whispered in his ear. “You must do this, Ashi. There is no other way.”

Ashinji started and spun toward the sound.

Gran stepped from behind a pillar, a wickedly curved blade in her hand.

“ Gran! What are you doing here?”

“ You know what has to be done,” the old mage replied, holding out the knife as if she expected him to take it.

“ I don’t understand, Gran. Please…” Ashinji begged, but his plea died on his lips as a second figure emerged from the darkness.

“ Son, take the blade and strike before it is too late! The Nameless One approaches!” Amara pointed to the body lying on the floor.

“ You must release the Key now!”

That voice belonged to regal, auburn-haired Princess Taya, who had materialized by his side. An enormous ruby glowed like a baleful red eye at her breast.

Confusion and fear muddled Ashinji’s thoughts as a fourth mage joined the circle, a woman of sinister beauty crowned with a mane of flame-red hair. She crouched beside the body at his feet. Tiny red sparks flared within the jade depths of her eyes.

Every instinct within Ashinji cried out in warning. “Sonoe! No, you stay away!”

“ I can’t. Her fate is sealed. This is the only way.” Sonoe’s pale hand caressed the unseen face.

“ She will not suffer, Son,” Amara promised. “Better that it be done by someone she loves.”

Ashinji’s fingers curved around cold steel. Somehow, the knife had found its way into his hand.

“ Do it now! It is almost too late!” Gran urged.

Ashinji stared in mounting horror at the circle of faces surrounding him.

The shadows drew back to reveal the identity of the sacrifice.

He screamed in horror…

…and bolted upright in bed, choking.

When the spasms had subsided and he could breathe again, Ashinji collapsed back onto the bed, shaking like a man in the grip of a fever. Never before had he experienced a vision so powerful, so absolute in its feeling of inescapability.

No! I can’t let this happen!

He crawled from the tangle of bedclothes and sat, naked and shivering, by the window of his chamber until the residue of the vision had dissipated. The fading stars heralded the coming dawn; returning to bed now would be pointless.

Besides, the sooner I get dressed and ready, the sooner Gran and I can leave for Sendai, and the sooner I’ll be reunited with…

“Jelena,” he whispered. The mere sound of her name evoked the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips.

He went to fetch his clothes.

“There’s a lot about this ritual you haven’t told me, Gran,” Ashinji accused, his voice tight with anger. “I want the truth. All of it.”

Gran sighed. “Ashi, I withheld certain aspects of the Ritual of Sundering from you because I didn’t want to burden you with that knowledge too soon.”

“So you thought you’d just spring it on me when the time came, is that it?” Ashinji’s voice rose to a near shout. “I’m supposed to kill my own wife! If you think I’ll meekly go along with any of this, you are mistaken!”

A light breakfast had been set out for them in the main sitting room of the Sakehera family quarters. Gran sat on Lady Amara’s favorite couch, an untouched sweet bun in her hand, while Ashinji paced in a tight circle, body rigid with fury.

“Listen to me,” Gran commanded. Ashinji stopped pacing but kept her at his back. “I still believe we can save Jelena, but it will take all of our collective skill as high mages to do so,” Gran explained.

Ashinji rounded on her, white-knuckled. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?” he spat. “You expect me to plunge a knife into my wife’s heart. Her blood will be on my hands. Can you give me any assurance that you and my mother and whoever else belongs to this…this Kirian Society, can resurrect her?”