War of the Heart

Emilee

A swarm of postulants illegibly chanted a prayer. Emilee looked around warily, flinching each time one of them reached into the pockets of their robes. Rationally, there was no reason for a credulant to attack an Eseterrian; after all, they were there to receive a blessing to help them on their religious journey. They had come bringing ideas for projects to better life in Cines and the Chèr, the Voire, Arcane and Emilee were to choose which projects were to be given priority. Sabrina should have been there too, but she'd been excused without the Chèr explaining why.

At the end of the prayer, the Chèr stood up, grabbing the pile of project requests. 'It is a thrill to see so many eager Esprians intent on protecting our religion. We will review these projects in due course.' He nodded at the three girls to follow him.

Fleya was already waiting outside, head lowered in submission. 'Allard and Sabrina have returned. The new arrivals are waiting.'

Yet more new arrivals? The prophecy had weighed heavy on Emilee's mind. The most obvious candidate had been Allard, but the Kraa princess and whoever these new arrivals were could just as easily be the traitor Ellux had spoken of. Too much was changing.

They were waiting in the Chèr's office. One was a young adult with olive skin and dark hair and eyes, reminiscent of a puppy. The other was younger, more around Medea's age, with light auburn curly hair, pale freckled skin and grey upturned eyes. Both were dressed in dark Leere robes. The moment the entered, the boy sprung up.

'I think I'm going to leave,' said Arcane. 'Bye.'

'Stay right here, Bay,' demanded the Chèr.

'Why? What's the point?'

'In light of the current situation, we all need to work in close cooperation with each other. It is vital we are acquainted with and can trust one another,' said Tiresias. 'Meet Cyprus Evergreen and Pio Bayne.'

Arcane rolled her eyes, as did the new girl. 'The "long-lost" prince said we could just be safe here.'

'No, he didn't! Remember, he explicitly said we need to earn our keep!'

'Zip it, Bayne,' she grumbled.

'Listen here,' said the Chèr. 'The spirits are at war and the end is nigh unless we can stop it.'

'No pressure,' said Cyprus with an eye roll.

'You will need to train so that you are capable of confronting Forti of course, but the country will be eternally grateful.'

'That's not what the long-lost dude said,' responded Cyprus. 'He promised us comfort and the chance to pursue our dreams.'

Tiresias rubbed his face tiredly. 'If you do all your tasks, you can spend the rest of the time doing whatever you desire. We will provide the equipment.'

'Good. I want high quality thread and needles, a decent violin and some professional-standard ice skates. The orphanage only possessed specimens of shameful quality,' declared the newcomer.

A little bit of the Chèr's joy in life died—not that there was much to begin with. He turned to Pio. 'Have you any request?'

'Just being a Leere is enough for me. Though... I wouldn't mind a pottery kit. And a sword.'

'I'll see what I can do for both of you.' He let out a desperate sigh. 'Now go join the other Leere. They'll make sure you earn your keep.'

The two Leere got up, ready to leave. Cyprus hesitated in the doorway. 'By the way, I'm a minor. I believe you'll find you can't overwork me.'

'Scram.'

While she most likely bore more resemblance to Gadeden's Eseterrian, Emilee couldn't help but be reminded of Ela. Perhaps it was the delusional perception grief left, where everything reminded one of the departed. However, all those years ago, Ela had been just as demanding.