Prophecy: Tome of Embers

12. Convergence

The damage was farther reaching than the eye could see. Even by mystical means, there was no way for Silas to tell the extent of his queen's injuries. That was because there was never a precedent before; never a suggestion that anything could hurt the Anchoress. That was what threw them, causing them to panic and overthink. Already there had been talk of desertions, something else that had never been conceived of. None of it made sense, the Anchoress was supposed to be indestructible, by all accounts, so of course doubt was expected to be sewn as all her cultists witnessed her lying there, wounded.

True, she hadn't been killed, and whatever injuries she might be suffering from would not be adequate to do her in, but the damage was enough. Already Silas had his underlings working to figure out who that woman had been, the one who had done this to their dark lord. Until then it was all that he could do to care for her, comfort her, mourn for her and sympathize with her pain. The sacrifices that he brought to her didn't seem to cheer her any, not the way that he was hoping they would.

"Don't worry about a thing, your most beautiful holiness. We'll catch the little fool who did this to you. Even though it hurts you must eat, it's the only way you're going to heal." Silas was gentle, knowing that even in her state not one of them could stand a chance against her wrath if they were to invoke it. Though the Anchoress said nothing, he could infer the way that she hissed quietly, read her intent in the curve of her lip. Lightly he chuckled to himself, unsure of what she meant-of course he was doing everything he could to ensure that she remained on track.

"No, you cannot be serious," he stared at her for a minute after he was able to determine just what she was saying to him. Though he knew it was nothing short of suicide, he could see that the Anchoress was nothing less than serious. Dead serious. Swallowing the lump he had in his throat he turned around to behold the other worshippers, looking between them undetectably as he considered his approach. Though the talks of desertion were still only talks, he knew this could be enough to push it over and bring it to life. Yet he had no other option, and neither did they-their god had spoken.

"Listen carefully, our queen has delivered her next directive," the volume of Silas' voice cut through the quiet chatter reverberating throughout their headquarters and they fell silent, waiting to hear what the message was. "Her magnificent eminence has made it clear that we must seek out and recover what has been stolen from her. Our radiant goddess has demanded that we plunder the facility where they are keeping what is hers and hers alone. Yes, brothers and sisters, it is time that we step out of the shadows and return the sacred one to his rightful place next to the master's side."

Though he'd been hoping that his message would be met with thunderous applause, it was not. The idea was one that they all cherished, sure enough, the idea of reuniting Austin with the Anchoress and witnessing her rise to ultimate power. Yet they all knew what had happened to him now, where he was and who he was with. Just like Silas they all knew that it was nothing short of suicide. Yet they knew as well that they couldn't ignore an order from the Anchoress, and in their lack of obedience she rose to full stature behind her high priest, if only to remind them who they served.

That was enough, for them to all see her there like that. No matter her injury, no matter the battle that they'd just lost. It was enough to remind them of her power, that though she was down she was not out, that she was still invincible. And they had made a pledge, they had made a decision to follow her to the ends of the world and then to any others if the need be. What were their lives compared to that? Now they cheered on, moved and ready to fight back, ready to take on whatever was about to come their way.