Prince Zohar left the temple the next morning. He left without the elephants, without even the palanquins of gold and jewels, in order to speed him on his way. He would need to reach the Varazi capital with all haste.

He had emerged from the Great Fire unscathed and with the same powers as Soraya now possessed. The middle-aged prince had been confused, awe-struck, and somewhat uncertain, but his ability was undeniably real. Soraya had made him demonstrate it enough times to be sure.

It was a fortunate surprise. He himself would return to Goshtab to spread word of the miraculous new weapon in Soraya's possession. Hopefully seeing the evidence before his own eyes would make the old man more likely to listen.

Soraya sat before her council of high priests as Ghazal kneeled to give her report. Ghazal, the most respected of all the high priests, had unofficially taken up Farnaz's position. She was no magi, but she would be an invaluable advisor all the same.

"The Great Fire is ready to be opened, your majesty," she said. "The sanctuary has been repaired as best as possible in the short amount of time available. Though the building was damaged, the fire itself continues to burn strong."

"Very good," Soraya said, acknowledging her with a nod. "Then we are ready."

Ghazal bowed, but hesitated from retreating back to her seat. Soraya tilted her head inquisitively.

"Yes, Ghazal?"

"There is... more news, your highness," she said haltingly. "It came only yesterday, but in the aftermath of Farnaz's betrayal there was no opportune time..."

"It's alright," Soraya said. "I understand. These past days have been chaotic for us all. You can tell me now- what is it?"

Ghazal's bowed head turned up and her dark, weathered face met Soraya's gaze. There was pity in those eyes, pity and something else that Soraya couldn't place. For the first time Soraya truly felt the gap of years between the two of them. Ghazal was not just her loyal priest and subject, but her elder by many decades. She was probably about as old as Katayoun, if her grandmother was even still alive.

Ghazal lowered her head again before speaking.

"Her highness the empress Homeira has been executed," she said, her voice heavy. "She attempted to escape her confinement in the palace along with young prince Kasra and go to you."

All of the priests' eyes were on her now, some anxious, some concerned, and all expectant. How would she react to the news of her mother's death? Would their empress respond with panic and desperation or grace and calm? The choice was hers now. Though there really wasn't any choice. There never was.

Soraya didn't speak for a moment. She took a deep breath before trusting herself to do so.

"And Prince Kasra?" she asked.

"The traitor Roshani has reportedly chosen to raise him as her own son. He will be crowned her heir and next in line for the throne."

Soraya slowly closed her eyes, releasing the tension that had been in her shoulders. He was alive. Her baby brother, whom she'd only met once and already loved so much, was alive. It was a mercy to hear, even as the knowledge of Homeira's death made her want to cry and scream and laugh all at once.

She thought back now to when Esfandar and Roshani's mothers had died. It wasn't a time she liked to remember, and she'd been so young. She only recalled her father's rage and despair, the chaos and uncertainty of the court, of the entire country.

Esfandar had taken it in stride, of course. It must have hurt him deep down, but he'd never shown it, at least not to her.

Roshani on the other hand- well, her mother's execution had changed something in her. Her reaction had been outwardly emotionless and unfeeling, but Soraya knew her sister better than she thought. Inside, there had been a storm roiling and gathering speed, only growing larger and more dangerous all these years. It had finally exploded, too late for anyone to do anything about it. Such was the fate of the gods.

Soraya remembered how her mother had protected her from the effects of that horror all those months. She hadn't been allowed to see either of her siblings in that time. She had cried and thrown fits, begging to see them, but her mother had remained firm.

"You have no part in this tragedy Soraya," Homeira had whispered to her in the dark halls of the harem. "Pray to the gods that you never will."

She had been so wise then- wiser than Soraya could ever be. She felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes and she willed them away. How could she ever be a true Shahbanu without her mother's guidance? She didn't know.

Something inside of her was lost, and she didn't know how to find it. But she couldn't afford to falter.

Think of Kasra, she told herself. Think of his fate.

She slowly opened her eyes once more. She could not allow this to overtake her, not now.

"Roshani will pay for her crimes dearly. With Mithra's will, the gods will deliver justice." Her voice was miraculously clear from emotion and unwavering.

Ghazal nodded once and returned to her place. All of the priests seemed appeased by her tact and poise, though the feeling of wanting to scream and curse at the sky still simmered in her heart.

Before her composure could break, two familiar faces entered the chamber and bowed briefly before rising again. Massoud and Parvana stood before her, Parvana's gray hair brushed back from her face and her eyes solemn. Massoud as well, though still emanating an air of nonchalance, was uncharacteristically serious in his expression. Massoud stepped forward first.

"I saw you walk through the fire with my own eyes, your grace," he said. "And though I still can hardly believe it, I saw the powers that it granted you. I think I would be a great fool not to lend myself to your cause." He dropped to his knees in a formal bow. "I will serve you and your armies, your highness."

Soraya nodded to him in gratitude, feeling a wave of relief roll over her. Now that she intended to recruit and train not only regular soldiers, but ones with godly powers, she was desperate for military leaders. Massoud's help would be essential in that goal.

"Thank you," she told him, nodding in acknowledgement. He smiled back, straightening up from his bow.

Parvana, however, remained silent. The air seemed to turn heavy suddenly, pressing down upon them all as they waited for the old general to speak. Soraya felt the sweat forming on the back of her neck, her shoulders growing tense.

"I accept your offer," Parvana said at last, still not meeting Soraya's gaze. The hard lines of her face seemed to soften as she also dropped to her knees and lowered her head in respect.

Soraya felt a weight lifted from her shoulders, and she exhaled the breath that had been holding. She prayed her intense relief didn't show on her face, though her chest felt like bursting with it.

Soraya stood from her throne, and the assembled priests straightened at attention.

"The hour is here," Soraya said. "I will speak to the people and tell them of all that's happened. May the gods judge us with mercy."

The priests murmured their assent and bowed their heads. Soraya walked forward amongst them and out into the hall, then outside the palace to the great pavilion. The doors to the Great Fire shrine had not yet been replaced, although the destroyed remains of the old doors had been removed.

New guards stood at attention in front of the shrine, their spears held firmly in their hands.

Crowds of people had gathered in the temple courtyard surrounding the shrine to see her, their empress. Common people were always allowed inside the temple complex to pray and offer tribute to the gods, but none were allowed inside the shrine of the Great Fire. Only the high priests and a select group of monks had that honor. Today, they were here to listen to Soraya address the strange rumors that had been crawling through the cities and villages; rumors about Soraya, the Great Fire, and unheard of magic.

The sun burned down on them, the air as hot and stifling as always. The people, who had been murmuring and jostling each other moments ago, grew silent at Soraya's approach. Soraya nodded to Ghazal, who stepped forward to address the crowds first.

"Her Highness Soraya of the Jamshid dynasty, chosen of the gods and empress of all Parthia stands before you," Ghazal called, her voice echoing out. "May Mithra watch over her."

"May Mithra watch over her," the crowd repeated. The words boomed and tumbled with the sound of thousands of overlapping voices. Then all eyes rested upon her.

Soraya stepped to the front of the platform, where all the gathered people could see her. She swept her gaze out across the masses of them. Every possible space was filled with those who wished to see the empress speak. Soraya spotted a few men and women dressed up in finery, their necks and ears laden with jewels, but most appeared to be simple commoners. Their faces were lined and tired, their eyes bright and hopeful.

"Men and women of Parthia," Soraya's voice boomed out. She knew that she was not as forceful a speaker as Roshani, nor as powerful a speaker as Esfandar. Still, she made herself heard. "Today, I bear news to cheer the hearts of all loyal citizens of the crown and the gods." She gestured to the imposing, marble shrine behind her. "The gods have sent a gift to us through the Great Fire. They sent me a vision, telling me to walk through the flames, and I followed their command."

There was no substantial reaction yet to her claim. Most likely, the people were merely confused by her words, thinking perhaps she was speaking in metaphor. The belief wouldn't settle in them until they'd seen it for themselves.

Soraya took a deep breath and flexed her wrists. She pictured her goblet filling up with a sparkling, golden drink, and ever so slowly tipping until a thin stream of the liquid spilled from the cup.

Soraya extending her hands upward and a blast of flames spouted from her fingertips. They launched into the sky, rising a dozen feet into the air and coalescing in a ball of burning fire.

Soraya let it burn for a few more moments, long enough for the crowds to burst into shouts and commotion before realizing that there was no real danger. Soraya let her hands fall back to her sides and the flames dissipated into nothing, as if they had never been real at all.

The crowds still yelled and shuffled amongst themselves, with fear or with excitement it was impossible to tell.

"Now you see the proof of my words," Soraya said. She was yelling now in order to be heard over the crowds. "Now you see evidence of the gods' gift. And now I wish to extend it to you."

Soraya scanned her gaze over the crowds again. They had grown quieter again. The excitement and tension of a few moments ago still hung thick in the air, but all wanted to hear Soraya's next words.

"My brother and sister have betrayed me. By staking claims to the throne, they have defied the gods' will and thrown the world into chaos. In order to restore balance, they need to be defeated."

She squared her shoulders. "Any who wish to join my army and fight for their empress will have the chance to walk through the flames, if they dare."

The crowds quieted. Eyes raised to the imposing structure of the shrine, and the flicker of fire that burned within.

"You may not survive the task," Soraya warned. "High Magi Farnaz herself walked through the fire and was killed for her efforts. Yet the challenge remains. Who is willing to walk through the fire?"

There was complete silence now. A faint wind blew through the temple, ruffling hair and cooling the heat. Not a soul stepped forward.

And then one did. Dashna pushed her way to the front of the crowd, dressed in the plain white robes of a temple acolyte. Her face was drawn into a grim, determined expression as she ascended the steps and knelt to the ground before Soraya.

When she raised her face, her eyes burned with fervor.

"Your Majesty," she said. "I accept your honor. I will walk through the flames of the Great Fire."

Soraya schooled her features to hide her surprise. She had come to trust Dashna's word and to respect her in turn... But she had never expected her to be willing to do this. This went beyond even loyalty- it was blind faith. Soraya met Dashna's gaze, trying to read the glint in her eyes. Perhaps this was not just to prove herself, Soraya thought. Perhaps she thought Mithra would help her people if she chose to brave his fire and emerge unscathed. It wasn't merely that Dashna was brave- she didn't have anything more to lose.

The rest of the people gathered looked relieved that Dashna had offered herself up. Some had the dignity to look ashamed. Others only looked on with confusion and fear.

"Dashna," Soraya said, raising her voice to be heard. "I thank you for your bravery and faithfulness."

She gestured to the shrine's entrance behind her, then back to the girl.

"The Great Fire awaits you."