Reckoning of the Gods: Heretic - Chapter 2: Stormborn
Author’s Note: This is a first draft, so please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes.
The sunrise was a welcome sight for Isa who had spent the night pacing her bedroom. For the last twenty years, Isa had dreamed of this day–the day she became a Stormborn. It was a title as well as a birthright, and it was one that she held with the utmost respect. In the entire realm of Sumarrah, there were only a few dozen Stormborn, and despite her eagerness to join their ranks, she recognized that this responsibility was both an honor and an obligation. After all, she was the first new Stormborn in over a hundred years.
For one fleeting moment, Isa marvelled at the rugged landscape that surrounded Galetop. Rays of sunlight scattered across buttes, canyons, and spires, creating a theater of shadows. Isa knew every crag, nook, and cranny in the Heartlands, but soon, she would be whisked off to some new and wondrous land. Perhaps, she would join the Southern patrol–the ocean sounded incredible–or the volcanoes of the West held promise as well. No matter where the Goddess Suphah sent her, Galetop would always be home.
Now that the sun had risen, Isa began preparations for her ceremony. First, she slipped on a royal blue tunic, tied a golden sash across her waist, and donned an embroidered silver cloak. Isa never had much use for jewelry or the like, but since today was special, she chose a pair of dangling sapphire earrings as well as a diamond brooch that kept her unruly ash brown curls in check. A few of her favorite rings and a black pearl pendant were more than enough to complete the ensemble, and a small dab of rose aromatic would surely impress the court. Lastly, Isa carefully traced with kohl along the edges of her eyes, giving her dark complexion a fierce edge.
Isa would have no need for her spear, sword, or shield today, but she always felt naked without them, so she slipped a dagger and sheath underneath her tunic. Taking a deep breath, she inspected herself in the mirror. Compared to the other Stormborn, Isa was almost unremarkable. She could barely summon a raincloud, and her power over the wind was adequate at best. Lightning terrified her, and she would rather study a book than a blade, spending hours in the library learning everything she could about her mother Suphah, the Stormborn, and the troubling rise of Heretics. Her mentor, Medina, tried her best, but Isa proved a difficult student, even if she was an earnest one. Still, she had managed to make it this far, and she would do her duty no matter what it took.
As Isa counted the minutes, she returned to her balcony to watch flocks of Immir gather from all corners of Sumarrah. The Immir coalesced into teeming swarms like ripples in a pond, but from this distance, she couldn’t tell the difference between most of them. Of course, the Southern tribes practically dwarfed the others with their enormous wingspans that enabled them to fly for days without touching land. The Immir sang a wonderful melody to celebrate the day, and Isa wished she could understand it. Unlike her sisters, Isa always had trouble interpreting the strange, melodic language of the Immir, a fact that Medina never let her forget.
A small stormcloud suddenly appeared on the horizon, and Isa recognized the telltale sign of the Stormborn. Most of her sisters had already arrived, but a few were making the trip to Galetop today. Judging from the direction, this Stormborn was either Hollox or Enneth. Then again, Stormborn were constantly shifting around, especially on the Northern borders.
A knock at the door startled Isa, and she practically bounded across the room. Opening the door, Isa barely recognized the person standing before her.
Medina’s tangles of red hair had been washed, brushed, and scented, and her clothes weren’t caked in blood, mud, or sweat. She wasn’t carrying her usual assortment of weapons or herbs, potions, and ales. In short, her mentor looked rather regal, if not a little uncomfortable.
“You look…dignified,” said Isa, stifling a laugh.
Medina’s piercing emerald eyes reminded Isa not to be fooled by this foolish display of fashion. Her mentor was still a saberclaw underneath a lady’s dress.
“Well?” asked Isa. “Any word?”
Medina smiled rather smug.
“I shouldn’t say anything, but I did catch a rumor or two. How do you feel about the ocean?”
Isa beamed. She wanted to give her mentor a hug, but such behavior was unbecoming for a Stormborn.
“Isa,” said Medina softly, “May I come in?”
Isa nodded, perplexed by the furtive look on Medina’s freckled face. What did she have to fear here in the most well-guarded place of all Sumarrah? Isa offered her mentor a seat, but of course, Medina preferred to stand.
“Isa, I’ve spent the last twenty years teaching you all that I know, but there are challenges that you are about to face, challenges that I could not foresee…”
“I’m not afraid of the Heretics,” interrupted Isa.
Medina gently raised her hand. “There are plenty of enemies on our borders, that is true, but I fear there are enemies within as well, and I don’t mean the Heretics.”
Medina continued pacing the room until she finally sat next to her student and lowered her voice until it was a faint whisper.
“The Immir grow restless. They want more power, and they are willing to do much to receive it. Our Mother Suphah grows more distracted by the day, and I fear that some will take advantage of her unfortunate state.”
Isa didn’t quite follow.
“The Immir have always been loyal to both Suphah and the Stormborn. Why would they risk such a plot now?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” said Medina. “You are going to learn that while we share the same blood and the same goddess, not all of us share the same motives. I’ve dedicated my life to Sumarrah, but there are others who dedicate themselves to glory and power, even in the name of Suphah. They would rather see fewer Stormborn if it meant more power for them.”
Finally, Isa understood.
“So I am a threat to them.”
Medina nodded.
“Worse yet, some of the Stormborn think you are meant to replace them. After all, we may be demigods, but we aren’t immortal. Most of us have seen too many battles, and some have seen too few. They won’t move against you in the open, but behind closed doors…”
“They wouldn’t mind if I failed.”
“Yes.”
“If I died.”
Medina paused for a moment, then nodded.
“Why tell me this now? Why not say anything before?”
“Things are…worse than I had imagined. I tried to shield you from this so that you could focus solely on your training, but that might have been a mistake. Had I known what you are facing, I would have spent more time preparing you for court. Preparing for battles fought with words and not weapons.”
“I have spoken with a few of our sisters, the ones whom I trust the most, and they have agreed to keep an eye on you. Claris, Dion and Kore will be your allies in the South. They will make sure that no harm comes to you. More importantly, they will teach you the ways of diplomacy. It’s an art that I still struggle to grasp.”
Isa took a moment to reflect on Medina’s words.
“What about you? Where will you go now that my training is complete?”
Medina paused.
“Wherever our Mother sends me. I have heard rumors of Heretics along the Northern border, so that seems likely.”
The Northern borders were the only place that Isa had no desire to see. An endless array of mountains, glaciers, and tundra at the furthest corner of Sumarrah.
“That’s hardly fitting for a Stormborn like yourself. You’ve earned the right to stay here, in Galetop.”
Medina smiled once more, but this time wistfully. “These halls feel strange to me now. There are too few faces I recognize, and those that I do recognize, no longer call me friend. No, I would rather not stay here. Not anymore.”
For the first time, Isa could see the toll that centuries had taken on her mentor. Not on Medina’s freckled face, but in her eyes that constantly roamed the room, looking for something that wasn’t there.
Suddenly, like a passing cloud, Medina’s demeanor changed, and so did the somber mood of the room.
“Come, let’s not dwell on the future,” said Medina. “We have much reason to celebrate today.”
Medina started for the door, but Isa had one last question to ask.
“You mentioned some Stormborn whom I could trust. What about the ones that I shouldn’t?”
Medina froze, and her voice was low and trembling.
“Hollox. Avoid her if you can, and if you cannot, do not trust a word she says.”
Isa heard many rumors about the first Stormborn. Some say that she was cursed, while others called her blessed. Regardless, she was a force of nature.
“Now come,” said Medina. “We mustn’t keep the Goddess waiting.”