Tales of the Vangen: The Black Ministry's Betrayal (Book 1)

Chapter 59: A Chance to Reflect

The Temple of Nido. Custodia had not been back to this place since she was a child. Why would she, since the Goddess had been dead for ages. As a little girl, she used to frequent the place often with her mother. They'd pray at the Goddess' feet, tossing coins into the temple's coffers. Back then, she used to pray for trivial things. For the girls to stop bullying her. For the strength needed to work her family's fields. For wisdom, so she could one day live in the city with enough money so that her parents would never want for nothing. She was given the Green Fever instead, and now she had nothing left to pray for.

It had taken the rebels all night to push the trebuchets up the temple stairs. By the crack of dawn, they'd assembled most of the siege engines along the square overlooking the city.

Custodia faced the Palace. It was a marvelous structure, jutting out of the ground like one massive stone spike under a blanket of verdant green grass, the last left to grow in Byzantia. To the left, she saw the gray haze of the Ashfields. And to her right, the bald rolling hills of Turcia.The morning wind picked up as dawn's light broke over the horizon.

A strand of gray hair tumbled past her vision. With a practiced hand, she crooned it back into place. She felt her mind slip into a daydream.

Custodia blinked. Gods, she must have looked like a wayward lover for a moment. It felt romantic enough, as long as she ignored the groan of siege engines and the pounding of hammers behind her.

Despite her best efforts, her thoughts stayed on Dag. What would he be doing right now? Sleeping hopefully. The man had a terrible habit of running himself ragged, even before joining the Vangen. So many nights she'd catch him in the training yard practicing his drills despite threatening to break his hands.

If only things had been different. If only Dag hadn't been so loyal, but unfortunately, it was, after all, the best thing about him. Devoted to a fault. Even against all the odds.

"You've become rather thoughtful as of late." Tyrannus stepped beside her, souring her mood immediately. "Something on your mind?"

Custodia chose her words thoughtfully, careful not to bruise the man's ego. "Are we not being hasty in all this? Won't the Emperor be upset not having a palace to return too?"

"Then we will simply build a new one," Tyrannus snapped. The magick surrounding him flared.

Custodia felt her breath forcefully ripped out, taking everything she had not to choke.

"We've endured enough setbacks already," Tyrannus said. "There will be no more failures. Our victory today for the Emperor must be absolute. He stepped in front of Custodia, blocking her view of the Palace. "Remember that it is I the Emperor chose as his champion. You and the others are merely instruments towards his great return," He moved towards her, so close that she could smell the vile odor in his breath. "And instruments do not ask questions. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." She wheezed. The pressure lessened by a fraction.

Tyrannus glared at her before he turned and walked away. "See to it that the siege engines are completed before sunrise. I don't want to afford Dux even a sliver of time to plan against us." Only then did Custodia feel the pressure surrounding her finally abate. She sucked in a lungful of air, forcing the sickening feeling in her gut to dissipate.

She watched Tyrannus leave the temple, feeling her hand inch close towards the pommel of her sword. This time the shadow did not try to stop her. She felt its presence reach over, blanketed her in its cold embrace, like winter laced silk.

Slowly, Custodia slipped her blade from its sheath and stalked towards Tyrannus. She imagined the look on his face after she'd buried her sword in his chest, realizing too late that all his talk of instruments and champions was all just misguided horseshit. The shadow had chosen her from the very start; It was Tyrannus who would be the tool. All Sorcerers were in the end. She'd merely borrowed the power for herself.