Page 2 of The Obsidian Curse

“Oh, yes, of course,First Tidemaiden, how could I have forgotten that? Perhaps you being theonlyTidemaiden is why it slipped my mind. Wasn’t it kind of the High Priestess to throw you that bone? Had I been her, with an acolyte who failed her trials five times in a row, I wonder if I would have been as magnanimous.”

Her words were blades delivering cut after cut. Ylena and I had never been friends. But when we’d started out together as initiates to the Order, we’d at least been friendly. Now, her greatest pleasure in life seemed to be tearing me down.

“How grateful we are, then, that you are not the High Priestess.” I imagined her face drawing taut with anger but didn’t bother to turn around to see.

I moved as quickly as I dared across the glassy ground, not as scared as I once was to step on the ancient script that covered every surface. As an acolyte, I’d been entranced by the swirling, looping collection of characters perhaps crafted by Morros’s very hand. Apparently, neither the Ember Fae nor the Water Mages had ever been able totranslate the writing, so its meaning remained a mystery. I’d even heard a lecture from the High Curator theorizing that the text may actually predate the arrival of the first humans to populate the planet of Lunaterra, my long distant ancestors who were pilgrims from some distant world.

Stepping foot in this sacred place always made me feel connected to history, to my legacy, to the reasons I wanted to join the Order in the first place. Even in the face of my failure, I could not shake the deep feeling of importance that being here elicited.

I had finally reached the altar, where Valya stood serenely. She inclined her head to me before carefully taking the chalice from my hands.

“Thank you, Niara.” Her voice was the gentle lapping of waves on the shore, embodying the peace of the Eternal Flow.

Our High Priestess was the most powerful Water Mage in Emberglade. As a child, before being sent to the Order’s care home, I had assumed that she and the other Archons who led our people would be old and withered. Instead, she was in her late thirties with smooth, unlined skin the color of freshly tilled soil and a manner so tranquil my shoulders dropped several inches every time I was in her vicinity.

We were both orphans, but she had moved from initiate to acolyte to priestess in record time, passing each trial on the first go. Her water sculptures were so beautiful they regularly brought grown men to tears. She’d mastered all five specializations, had undergone warden training as well, and held several competition titles in the martial art of Fluidhand. She was the ideal of Mages and everydayFlowfolk alike—everything I wanted to be, but was so far from achieving.

The overhead lighting changed subtly, indicating the beginning of the eclipse. I had made it by a hair. Fortunately, this meant that Ylena had duties to attend to aside from pestering me.

During celestial events, such as the weeklong series of eclipses of our planet’s two suns and thirteen moons that was about to begin—the Holy Convergence—light from above would illuminate the etchings on the walls, giving them a magical glow in purples and blues. I was as excited to see it as I was for every other part of this rare event.

The Day One ritual that was about to take place represented the unity of the Water Mages with our patron moon Morros, the Melancholic Guardian who tempered the fiery exuberance of the world with his calm wisdom.

Two men approached the altar, causing me to step back. High Curator Danir was the stereotypical aged scholar, white-haired with a tangled white beard and eyes clouded with age. High Warden Amal, however, was even younger than the High Priestess, with sand-colored skin and eyes of glittering onyx that always held a smile.

His gaze snagged mine, and he winked, causing the blood to heat in my veins. The leader of the Mage defenses, he was from a wealthy and powerful family. As such, he was sought after by women throughout the land. Why he persisted in singling me out, complimenting me, and giving me small gifts was still a mystery. Just that morning, I’d found a delicately carved figurine of a rose, crafted from magefrost, in my mail cubby. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my lips remembering it.

The ceremony was beginning, and the gathered priests, priestesses, and acolytes each held their chalices before them, simpler versions of the grand chalice that Valya used. Using the seaglass gems that allowed Mages to channel Morros’s power, one by one they conjured streams of water from the sacred pool, causing them to rise and enter their vessels.

The writing on the walls was beginning to glow as the suns came into alignment. Just as the combined voices of the chant to begin the ritual rose, the ground beneath our feet rumbled. I was knocked sideways and crashed hard into the wall, bruising my back and hip. The chamber shook wildly, dust and gravel falling down upon our heads.

The once placid waters of the sacred pool bubbled and frothed as if heated from below. Screams rang out, and the wardens rushed forward, forming a barrier between the water and the rest of us, conjuring magefrost spears and shields as they went.

From the water, fire began to lick up toward the oculus overhead. Steam filled the cavern. The heat grew more intense. The water rippled, and something began emerging from its depths. I peered around the legs of the wardens blocking me, more entranced than afraid of what was happening.

Out of the flames dancing across the surface of the water, two horns appeared. Then came an enormous dark head, maw open, bellowing out a roar that made my blood chill.

A colossal beast made of lava and fire arose screaming from the waters. It was at least the height of two men, with a thick chest and wickedly large arms. Flaming wingsflapped on its back, blowing scalding air into our faces. Glowing red eyes surveyed the scene and did not appear to like what they saw.

The wardens blasted the creature with pressure streams of water and projectiles of magefrost. The monster howled in pain. Part of me had feared our weapons would be no match for it, but just as in the mundane world, water and fire did not mix.

The beast retaliated, conjuring a flame whip and lashing out at the wardens. Fire met ice with sizzling blows, turning the air almost too steamy to see through. A warden went flying across the cavern, crashing into the wall several feet away.

The air cleared somewhat, and I got a better look at the creature as it spun this way and that, parrying the attacks of the dozen wardens gathered. Amal was in the lead, a fierce expression on his handsome face as he battled the beast.

When another warden fell to the monster’s fire whip, I caught the creature’s eye. It was little more than a flaming pit inside a face of hardened lava, but it captivated me. Was it my imagination, or was there intelligence within? And though I knew it must only be in my mind, I could swear the beast was looking at me as well.

I should have been terrified, cowering in fear like the others, but what I really felt was curiosity. The sense that this creature was more than it appeared.

Suddenly, the monster stopped its thrashing and gave another ear-splitting roar. High Priestess Valya struggled to her feet and leaned on the altar. She gripped the egg-sized seaglass gem she wore on a pendant around her neck and began to conjure. A bubble of water emerged from the pool,large enough to enclose the creature, and snapped in place around it.

The monster thrashed and struggled and fought but was unable to free itself from the water cage. The enormous sphere floated from the center of the pool to the side, settling on the obsidian path. High Warden Amal produced an enchanted seaglass collar, one surprisingly large enough to fit around the creature’s massive neck, and cinched it into place.

As those around me slowly recovered from the terror and shock of the past minutes, I worked to catch my breath. That moment my gaze had collided with the beast was seared into my mind like a brand.

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