The Paragon

Chapter Thirteen

"Paragon?" As I left breakfast one morning, a few days later, a voice called out to me. I turned to see a tall woman with black hair in many braids following me; I recognized her as one of the members of the council. She used my hesitation as the opportunity to catch up with me. "I was hoping I might have a chance to speak with you," she said.

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced at Phoenix, who stood beside me. The woman's eyes moved to him as well. "Counselor Octavia," he greeted with a nod. He seemed surprised by her approach.

"Paragon, we haven't had much of a chance to speak, since your dramatic exit from the last council meeting you 'attended.'" Octavia gestured that we continue on our way, with her. "Walk with me."

We did, Phoenix and I exchanging a glance that communicated between us our lack of real option. Octavia didn't seem like the type of woman you ignored; I was rather surprised she hadn't spoken out more during the times I'd spoken to the council before. "What is it that you want to tell me, Counselor?" I asked.

"I let the others make fools of themselves before, trying to convince you to simply immediately be the Paragon that we need, that we want," Octavia explained. "The fact is, you are the Paragon that we have, whatever that might mean." I raised both eyebrows now, wondering if this was meant to be some sort of insult. "It is very difficult for anyone here to imagine what it's like to be anything else."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" I asked.

"It means that they forget that you weren't raised to this. You were born a normal girl, raised a normal girl, not even a wizard, and not even knowing that we Redcloaks existed. They were raised the opposite. The fact that anyone expects you to instantaneously accept your title is some sort of ridiculousness that I can't even attempt to argue against." She shook her head. "It would be far easier if the Paragon were chosen at birth, able to be raised to know their title, but that's not the way our world works."

"Why is that, do you think?" I asked, unable to contain some curiosity. "The spirits surely could have had that option. And yet, you maintain that they always select an adult. Why?"

"A child can be molded into anything," Octavia said. "If they're born the Paragon, they'll be raised to behave a certain way, to know their power for what it is, and never know any different. But part of being the Paragon means understanding different walks of life. I believe that the spirits select one who might be seen as unlikely by others. Someone who became who they are on their own merit, not because they were raised to be a hero. But because they believed in good on their own already." With a shrug, Octavia gestured and we walked around another corner, taking the path back towards the Hub. "Those are my theories anyway. There's no way to fully understand why the world works the way it works."

I was impressed. "Your theories seem more sound than anything I've thought of," I said. "Why didn't you say anything at the time? We could have had a discussion instead of..."

"Instead of you handing Maric his ass on a silver platter? Because he deserved it." Octavia smiled as I held back a laugh. "Like I said, I believed you needed time to absorb your new position and powers. Something I can tell you've made progress in already."

Nodding somewhat hesitantly, I considered for a minute before saying anything. "Thanks to Keeper Phoenix's guidance, my powers are at the very least under my control now," I said, probably surprising Phoenix with the credit afforded to him. "It's not as fast as I'd like, though."

"Even a Paragon can't become a master of magic in only three weeks," Octavia said. "What you're learning in days, however, takes an average wizard many years."

"Well, I've never been known for my excessive patience," I replied as we reached the Hub column. Octavia paused outside the door, and Phoenix and I stopped as well, fairly certain this conversation was far from over.