The Carnelian Way

33.

Five hundred and fifty turns had passed since the last imperial wedding when prince Raia of Denea wed princess Kiera of Eurora. That union, unwanted by Denea, but completed none-the-less out of the need for an alliance, was a state event. Though sullen, citizens stood in the streets of Hypat to watch the royal procession. Banners hung from the windows. The representatives from Eurora could not complain about the lack of accolades for their princess. The people, the parades, and the ceremony were there, if without enthusiasm. And, though the prince and princess met as strangers that day, all saw the glint in their eyes. The promise of a spark that would set their world ablaze.

So said the history books.

Within the year, Mai was born. A blow to Denea, who ordered their prince not to conceive. A godsend to Eurora after centuries of childless alliances with Denea.

Today, the ceremony was different. The spark already flared, the child that would unite their people growing fast within Rina, sped on by the Carnelian Way.

Rina placed a hand on the rapidly expanding curve of her stomach, the golden threads woven into the burgundy silk scratching her palm. Before her, a modest but smiling crowd gathered in the orchard where she and Mai had first met. Beyond the sun-dappled forms of trees and attendees, the horizon unfurled like a pink rosebud. A trail of red petals led to the edge of the plateau. A tall figure stood there with his back to her, staring out into the sunset, the sun glinting on the oiled curls of his hair and briar crown.

The scent of rose and grass and earth twined about Rina as she walked toward him, waiting for him to turn. Then he did, his eyes wide and blue, that crooked smile unfurling. She didn't breathe for a step. Two. Three. Not until his hands reached for hers, pulling her up to the dais, that line between them roaring to life, and their child stretching within her.

Rina, he said into her mind. Her lips parted, and her face grew warm as he leaned in to kiss her cheek while one possessive hand reached out to her stomach. The child rolled, and she felt his lips stretch across her skin.

A throat cleared, and they pulled apart to see High-magister Pilo waiting from his lectern, a flicker of amusement across his weathered face. His knarled hand came to his chin and stroked down his long beard as his thick grey brows lifted.

Mai snorted. "Get on with it, will you?"

Warmth bloomed in Rina to hear Mai light-hearted. The past months had been hard. The magisters and acolytes who escaped the courthouse—no, who she let run—had been tracked down and tested, and the taint found within most. In a few, to the extent that the mubash grew. Of these, all but two forsook themselves to Mai, becoming reborn. The others joined Nab above the court gates—this time after the purging of the mubash.

For over five hundred turns, the forsaking had been a symbol of the Denese taint. Of the danger they posed to the kingdom. Now, all persons gifted with the Carnelian Way needed to forsake themselves.

For the Denese to be lifted so high was one thing, and something many magisters struggled to accept. But to have their order dragged down, to forsake themselves like the Arkis-tainted Denese, that had been another matter. Spot fires of rebellion had been stamped out by trusted leaders of the Magisterium and the magister guards. Secret meetings in private estates were raided. Some magisters had protested through the streets.

Few Euran's complained. The changes warranted rigorous re-testing and so came the discovery of latent abilities in adults who displayed no gifts in adolescence. This included some gifts thought all but lost to the Magisterium, such as persuasion.

Pilo opened his book. His gaze scanned the crowd. All the chosen had come, and for each of them, a magister or acolyte, and a noble or commoner who demonstrated their support of the union. Some attendees lined the aisle, but most clustered amongst the trees, including Olav, who looked at her from those black eyes with an expressionless face.