It wasn't until she'd entered the Temple of Aeon that Eliah heard Balint's footsteps echoing behind hers. She turned and fixed him with a glare.

'You shouldn't be here, Gunnarschild.'

Balint crossed his arms over his chest. 'Of course I should. It would be dishonourable for me to allow someone so wea— no, I mean small— wait, no, I mean...' He coughed awkwardly, cleared his throat and puffed up his chest before continuing confidently, 'I couldn't allow a fellow rankmate to enter the menials' domain on her own.'

'Right... Well, I'm perfectly fine on my own, so you can leave.' Shaking her head, Eliah continued on into the Temple.

But instead of heading towards the exit, Balint's footsteps hurried towards her. With a few long strides, he was blocking her path

'Menials hate warrior-trainees,' said Balint, his countenance serious.

'I'm well aware,' Eliah replied drily, and walked around him.

She sighed as he fell into step beside her.

'They've been getting more daring since Tyrant Ylva departed, you know. Didn't you hear what happened last moon? A pair of blasphemers used their magicks to attack a soldier and his son who were praying to Aeon.'

Eliah nearly snorted, but managed to cover her nose and mouth before the noise could escape. It didn't surprise her that the warriors were circulating a very different version of events to what she'd heard from Hal.

Few Seren visited the Temple of their own volition. Aeon may have been the Great Mother of the Gods, but Seras was the father of the Seren, and the only worship He required was victory in battle. For a population more used to living wild with nature and spilling blood on dirt and sand, Aeon's cold, stone House was too eerie for comfort, let alone worship. Seren warriors would not set foot inside it unless they'd been summoned for Counsel or Vigil, neither of which could resume until Ylva returned from beyond the Gate.

But in the three years since Eliah had inadvertently destroyed the Arena ward, the number of warriors trespassing in the Temple of Aeon had increased dramatically. Soldiers, shieldmaidens and warrior-trainees alike had set upon the menials' housing in the lower floors intent on punishing them for what they perceived as sabotage.

Some had ventured even further below ground to strike at the doors to the Cages. Aramir's "victory" in the pit had given rise to a new generation of warriors Void-bent on becoming Titans, and the most foolish and impatient thought they could gain an advantage by taking on the creatures while they were caged.

Fortunately the entire Temple was rigged with wards. Alarms alerted Hal and Ove to the intruders, and together, they'd removed the trespassers from their domain. Hal had been positively giddy with excitement at the opportunity to test out the remainder of his secret battle magic kit. And those who weren't aware of why Ove Toveschild had been given the position of Marshal learned that he was just as capable as Regis Thearrischild at crushing any soldier who dared to think him weak.

Alas, both men were burdened with duties that oft took them from the vicinity of the Temple, and neither was strong enough to hold their ground against multiple enemies without the other present. With that knowledge, the Marshal had requested a guard rotation – only to be met with cold, hard reality: even with orders to guard them, Titans, soldiers and shieldmaidens simply did not care about the safety of the menials or the Temple.

The only people willing to defend the menials were the menials themselves.

So, with permission from a pragmatic Thearris and an extremely reluctant Einar, Hal was given leave to train a small group in defensive magicks. He had also taken the liberty of arming some of the more powerful defensive spells built into the Temple walls, but the Tyrants didn't need to know that. Ove, on the other hand, had scouted their numbers for others like him: menials who had demonstrated enough magic to disqualify them from the warrior ranks, but who would have passed muster as soldiers otherwise.

These were the "daring menials" that Balint's story was about. And as much as she would have enjoyed seeing him bested by the weaklings he so looked down upon, Eliah knew it would be better for everyone if the two parties never met.

'You really should turn back, Gunnarschild. Only menials and Tyrants are permitted beyond the Vigil. If you venture past that point, the wards will activate against you.'

Balint scoffed. 'Seren don't fear magic. Our golden blood protects us.' Spurred on by that thought, he lengthened his strides and took the lead – in the wrong direction.

Eliah watched him go. Clearly Balint had forgotten what Sten had said earlier about cornered menials almost killing their attackers. According to Hal, Seren blood – pure Seren blood – protected them from magicks that affected the mind, but they were still vulnerable to spells designed to cause physical harm like anyone else. "Golden blood" couldn't save a warrior from being burned by lightfire any more than it could save him from being impaled by a spear.

For a long moment, she considered just letting him wander around until he hit one of the wards – as far as she was concerned, it might do him some good.

Then she remembered what Hal had told her the first time she'd come to the Temple alone: 'Regis has seen the consequences of disturbing Aeon's House. Try not to do the same.'

What kind of punishment her foster father had served, the girl had no idea. His mouth had slammed shut faster than a snare when she'd asked. Regis simply made her swear not to touch anything and to always walk the same path through the Temple when she visited Hal just to be safe.

Eliah sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Balint Gunnarschild was merciless as a sparring partner, oblivious as a rock, and straight-forward to the point of being unintentionally insulting. But he'd never treated her with malice or contempt. She wasn't certain if she believed in the Gods, but if they did exist then an honest fool like him didn't deserve to draw their ire.

Reluctantly, she hurried after his footsteps. He was heading into a part of the temple she'd never been to before. 

'Balint,' hissed Eliah, wincing as the sound reverberated down the hall. 'Come back! You're going the wrong way.'

The footsteps stopped.

Concerned, Eliah broke into a sprint, turning her head to check rooms as she ran by.

She almost ran right past him. Backtracking, Eliah found Balint at the entrance of a small circular room choked in a glowing azure haze of aeonite dust.

'What are you doing?' asked Eliah as she stepped in beside him.

He shrugged. 'Looking. There's someone in there.'

Eliah squinted. Sure enough, there was a vague person-like shadow in the glittering cloud of blue and white. 'A statue?'

'There aren't many statues in the Temple.'

He wasn't wrong. For a temple dedicated to the Queen of the Gods, the building was surprisingly barren of depictions of Aeon and Her children. The only signs of worship were the patterns carved and embedded in the Temple's stone walls and floor – patterns that matched the Blessing on Eliah's skin.

But curious as she was, Eliah regarded the cloud of aeonite with suspicion. While the air on the Mountain constantly glittered with it, she highly doubted that inhaling a haze that thick would be without consequence.

Balint, however, shared no such concerns. Puffing his chest out with confidence, he strode straight into the azure light – and erupted into hacking coughs.

Eliah took a deep breath and went after him. The haze was as thick as the cold season's fog. She could barely see her hand in front of her face. Stumbling over to Balint's doubled-over figure, she grabbed the back of his tunic and attempted to haul him to his feet. Unsurprisingly, she failed. He was far bigger and heavier than she was.

She bit her lip. A flicker of heat rose up the back of her hand. The solution to the problem was simple, but she'd promised both Regis and Hal that she wouldn't use it – not until the time was right.

Sprinkles of red splattered the air as Balint continued to choke and cough.

Eliah clenched her fist. If there ever was a right time, then surely a matter of life and death would be it. She focused her mind, clearing her thoughts of all but one. The runes in the back of her hand flared. When the pain trickling down her skin was finally too much to bear, she flicked her fingers outward. The cloud of aeonite dispersed, billowing outwards to form bright blue pillars in the corners of the room.

Finally able to breathe, Eliah inhaled deeply and crouched down to get a look at Balint. His eyes were watery and he had a bloodied hand over his mouth.

'Guess it's not just Sune whose airways need fixing...' muttered the girl.

Balint's eyebrows knitted together, as if he wanted to say something.

Eliah cut him off before he could. 'Don't talk. Can you stand?'

Without waiting for a response, she pulled his arm across her shoulder and heaved. Somehow they both made it to their feet.

Eliah grimaced as she did her best to support his weight. 'Gods, you're heavy,' she muttered. 'Steady now.'

As they trudged back towards the door, Eliah cast one look back at the figure that had drawn them into the room.

A woman in a long flowing robe stood in its centre, carved from the same glittering blue crystal as the statue of Taiten. Her arms were cradled in front of her chest, and her chin had been turned back over her shoulder, as if someone was supposed to be standing beside her.

Lines identical to those that marked the statue of Taiten, and Eliah herself, had been etched into the exposed sections of her arms. They pulsed with light, raising clouds of aeonite into the air each time they faded.

Eliah frowned. That explained why the air had been so choked with it before.

A cracked stone plaque engraved with runes lay at the statue's feet:

ᚢᛅᛚᚴᛁᚱᛁᛁ

The word meant nothing given that warrior-trainees were never taught how to read, but the lettering looked eerily similar, yet different, to the runes etched into Eliah's skin.

Brow furrowed with concentration, Eliah did her best to try and remember at least some of it so she could ask Hal what it meant later, and looked back up at the statue's face.

She could have sworn she saw the woman's eyes shift towards her.

Startled, Eliah quickly looked away. Swallowing hard to suppress the sudden knot of fear and unease in her belly, she forced herself to sound exasperated instead.

'C'mon, log legs,' she muttered to Balint. 'Let's find Hal before you drown in your own blood. Honestly, how could you think walking in there was a good idea...'

Balint simply grunted in response.

One step after the other, they left the statue behind.

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All content and illustrations ©Jax L. P. (@JaxCreation) on 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒑𝒂𝒅. All rights reserved. Please contact the author if you are reading this on another site or under a different account name.