Arno watches me pace in Alef's tent, lounging in his sparring uniform, somewhat skewed. I'm wearing simpler leather armor beneath my moonlit cape. My mirror is at my belt. I bite at my thumb and allow a little blood to drip for the ghouls. They quiet, satisfied.
But I'm not. I need more than blood to satisfy me.
I need answers.
"What will you do now that the festivities are over?" Arno looks up at me, knowing better than to try and pull me back onto the rugs on the floor when I'm determined like this. "You should start planning strategy for the war."
"I must see my father." I put my thumb to my lips, sucking away the blood and binding it quickly in a strip of bandage-cloth. "I have to make sure he's safe before I go out to fight. There's also Ratu, my father's maid. He needs her, or else he can't take care of himself." I grimace, sticking my tongue out. "And my idiot cousins have to be dismissed."
Arno picks at the sand on the ground, pulling it from the black carpet, the silver tassels gleaming. He stretches, his robe slipping lower over his collar. "I suppose I'll travel with you then."
I stop pacing, my back to him. "We aren't lovers, Arno." I nudge my toes in the sand. "You don't owe me anything."
"You think I'm foolish enough to see you as a gentlewoman dreaming of marriage, Ode? Come now, you must know me better than that. You take what you want when you want it. I get that." Arno raises a thick eyebrow when I turn back to him, running his hand over his head. "My father was saved by your father. You pulled me out of that cavern and carried me back to the encampment while I was bleeding and broken. That's twice that lives from the House of Ibrahim have been saved by Ngayoh." He bows his head. "I owe you my life. I will serve Kane or Aziz or the damn sand djinns until I repay the favor that Ibrahim owes Ngayoh."
He stands, brushing sand off himself. He moves first to brush a stray curl behind my ear, but then stops himself. Instead, he grins and moves his arm to clasp mine like a soldier. "Think of it as a soldier pledging his life to his general."
"I'm no general."
He gets down on one knee, bowing his head and placing my hand over his forehead. "No, lady champion. You are more than a general. You're a Diviner of the ultimate rank, second only to the gods. Fighter of princes, matriarch of the spirit world." He shifts then so his face turns to clay, eyes gleaming black, full golem eyes filled with respect. "And now general to a half-golem, a humble soldier in your debt."
I lift him to his feet, grunting with effort. "Cut down on the honey cakes, you're getting heavy."
"It's my golem form!" He grumbles, swiping halfheartedly at me. I dodge easily, sticking my tongue out at him.
"Alright then, if you're so determined to repay your debt, then help me prepare for the travel to the city. Gather a few mules for the journey back, and a cart to pack up this tent and the furniture." I smooth my cape down, taking the spare sword Arno hands to me, tucking it on the opposite side of the mirror. "Let's win Rahasia."
***
Champions!
We've reached over 500 likes and #99 in Fantasy!
AAAH! You're all the Chosen Ones.
Best
Sophia
YOU ARE READING
A Priestess for the Blind God (Legends of Rahasia Book 1)
Fantasy"The Blind God walks around me, and I feel my mind prodded again like it was in the cavern, a spider weaving a tangled web. "Would you do anything to be remembered, Ode, even play a villain, the one who rises against the Chosen One?" In answer, I dr...
