ADARA

Azahama shone bright underneath a rising sun. Atop the navy spire of the Elder Convocation, a beacon of light pulsated through the flow and tickled her skin. Quiet streets whispered with the small talismans on the corners of the gable roof architecture between houses raised on stilts and surrounded by shrubbery, to the thicker, larger ones when they came closer to the center. Amphipteres wound their way around the doors to public spaces, black-scaled with speckled golds. Pink blossoms fell across the Warden Lodge, whose gray standard stuck out in a sea of color. Left to wait for the summons, she swayed a bit on the bench beside the fountain whose hippogryph and shining stone Warden raised both their claws and blade high. Faceless behind a helmet carved into the likeness of the standard. Her stomach curdled the longer she found herself in the timeless shadow of the spire, holding down her guts. In the whisper of ghosts, she cowered behind Yuven Traye, who acted as if, at most, ghouls were more an inconvenience than a threat.

Gods damn you, Yuven Traye.

Fenrer's footsteps drew her out of her choked agony as he left the lodge proper and jogged to her. "Nothing yet," he said as he slid into a seat beside her, and she leaned straight into his side when the bile stung at the base of her tongue as he supported her with his arm. "Sovereign Hirishi and King Reyn are getting their own affairs in order with the Magick Council." He waved a little leaflet with the hand not trapped by her. "Warden-Commander Faehariel drew out a couple things to expect. One, as Reyn said, an audience. Two, there will be four trials — one each for the Ancient's creeds. Evyriaz. Ojain. Ivara. Pyon — or Pyvansomiir if you're Hanekan," he said all this quickly and on his oceanic lilt. "I can't say what those tests will involve..."

"I need him here, Fen."

Fenrer faltered and folded the leaflet back into one of his leather straps. "I know, but he's not here," he whispered and studied her. "I'm going to be here every step of the way if you need me — or want me to be." He tapped his fingers against his heart, flattening his palm against his leather armor. "I know I'm not Yuven, but I still carry a piece of his soul." He brought both hands to clasp at her shoulders. "There might be a way, though there is a high chance the Convocation will deny us and claim it is a time constraint they will not humor... and if that's the case..." His lips folded inward as he released a small breath. "I have another way."

"What is it?" Her hands pressed against his warm ones.

"I can't say until we know for certain the details of what's about to happen," he explained, and Adara swung her attention at a raucous bunch of activity at the main square, but she found herself straight into Fenrer's fingers instead and nudged back to him. "We have a plan, Adara. It's too much to explain here... but you'll be well, I need you to have faith." Adara trembled when he brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. "Aye? Sea to sea... we'll bring you back home whether they like your progress or not." His own gaze drifted to the crowds who went about their day to day, though the added news crushed into her shoulders at their hungry, familiar curiosity. A shadow latched onto the roof of a farmhouse, a single tendril pointed at her from all directions.

You.

Adara dug her fingers into Fenrer's forearms and air rushed out of her lungs. Silver auroras pierced the jadite thickets which swirled around his pupils, and he held her close. I can't, I can't. It lodged in her throat as she gripped his shoulders and buried her face in his chest while he brushed his hand through her hair. "I know you said we could practice but I don't think I can right now." As she caught her breath, the shadow moved with the sun as she hid in Fenrer's arms. Deep in the silence, Adara lifted her face off his shoulder at his lack of further words and a bustle of a WArden rushing out of the streets and bounding into the lodge with a sense of immediacy. Fenrer leaned back from her to look over to the brass doors, keeping an arm around her, preventing her collapse into bloody goop.

"Fen?" Arm wrapped around his neck, she held on tight to the anchor.

Water trickled out of the claws of the hippogryph and filled the fountain's basin in a constant cycle, where little gold coins shimmered underneath the surface of a well-wisher's prayer for the Warden's success. Minutes passed, and one of their contingent ran out the doors to trot up to them, a young woman donned in gray chains, contrasting her black hair. "Pyren?" she questioned with a frown and handed over a scroll to him. "They wish for us to bring Miss Sazaka over to the tower post-haste to discuss the tests to push her magick and give us a chance to say our piece on her progress while the named sovereign of Dyrin oversees some final details."

Fenrer nodded and twisted back to her when the Warden departed to join the others. "They're not going to make you do it this instant," he assured, though his hope bled into her despair, swallowed. "We can, at the very least, fight that off if they try. As for Yuven—"

"He should be here," Adara rasped.

Fenrer squeezed his cheeks inwards, then helped her off the bench though the weakness in her knees threatened to make her kneel to a higher power with their boot on her spine. A crimson axe against her neck with crowds of people jeering for the crime of her magick. "Trust us. We aren't throwing you into the Echo Obscura alone." His hand brushed down the small of her back and urged her forward out of the part of the city dedicated to the Wardens. Her breath stuttered over her lips as the contingent collected closer to them and pushed people out of the way with their presence alone, crescent blades gleaming a frozen gold. Storefronts quieted when they passed into the main square, where the entrance of the navy spire sat above a streamlined staircase once more.

Azure lamps hung over the large double doors, carved with the phases of the lover moons, a truthful dance she ascended through when two Convocation guards opened up the doors for them. Multiple spiral staircases wound their way through huge stacks of books where cloaked figures sat at small, circular tables in study. Ahead of her, nothing more than a faint mirage, a white-haired figure whose sharp words bespoke reality when his hand touched the mosaic door into the Tribunal of the Elder Conclave. Essence bubbled underneath her when she entered, though a couple of Wardens loomed outside with Fenrer stalwart at her side, and Yuven never bowed to anyone, no matter how powerful they were — from bloodthirsty monarchs to inconvenient complainers.

He failed to teach her how to do that.

"We welcome you back to Azahama, Anima Sazaka," one of the Elders from before spoke, their tone cautious; her might mythical, but she herself shrunk underneath the shadowed pedestals. "As you have been made aware, we've summoned you to conduct the Four Faiths." On their feet, they wandered over to stand behind the lectern and looked down upon her. "And we will determine if your control over your magick is immaculate." Unable to argue her case, she winced when Elder Orianna took the lectern instead, but before she could speak, Fenrer wandered out in front of her with a shake of his head.

"The Storm Wardens have made their intentions clear," he spoke with Yuven's authority. "You may test her as was the deal, but don't forget our end of the bargain, Cardinals." His hand rested on the hilt of his crescent blade when his gaze flicked to the five hooded Auro's off to the side. "No matter how these tests conclude, you have our assurance that we will continue to train her." Head tilted upwards, Fenrer stood as a giant among thousands of pillars, and Adara found comfort in his presence after all, but the uncertainty of crushing weight drowned her in a tempest of rage. "With that, we request an extension." A slight head tilt to another Warden who flanked behind her, they twitched and stepped towards the door.

Elder Orianna narrowed her eyes. "You were given plenty of time to prepare her, Warden."

"It is not for her preparation that we request an extension," Fenrer said. "It is for Warden Yuven Traye."

The Elders hunched their shoulders in a defensive posture — Yuven always made an impression on those who flaunted power. It made her smile, and put dread in her soul at his silence when she looked around for the Avaerilian as if he could teleport all the way from Euros. He has before, he took us all the way from Irimount to Sivaport... but that was powered by a crystal full of my magick. Blood tore through her lip when she bit down on it.

"We cannot wait any longer," an older man bit from his seat. "We must test the Anima posthaste — the world is on the brink, Storm Wardens. You knew that when the Anima appeared."

Anima. Anima. My name is Adara.

"And I'll make you remember me!" Yuven declared from within a fighting pit to a king who crushed magickae underneath his crimson-stained boots, a fae who turned into a wyvern in the words within his echoed song. In a throne with a sneer when he so easily stole it from someone else by simply sitting on it.

"Nonetheless, Elders," Fenrer continued as Wardens shifted in the shadows of her safety instead of their oppression in the light. "We have made our case and our request; the travel time for Yuven Traye would mainly be from the voyage over the strait and into the gulf of Haneka." He took a closer step for her, engulfing her until it was only Elder Orianna she saw with any clarity. "Warden-Commander Faehariel gives her regards and would like to remind the Council of the Pact of Hundred — the Storm Wardens will not interfere unless there is threat to life. Adara Sazaka is our charge — you relinquished that part of the Pact in handing her over to Yuven Traye, speaking it below the peaks of the navy spire." He pointed upwards into the beacon of light high above the clouds. "In accepting our assistance and deferring to our judgment, no matter the results of this test, the Wardens are not afraid to stick to the Pact to protect a single life."

Adara grinned into the back of his leather armor.

His words caused discontent in the Elders, but Elder Orianna raised her hand. "Our judgment stands, Warden Pyren," she said and flipped through a tome. "We are not going to wait for Yuven Traye. You have today to prepare her for the Four Faiths." Her stamp onto a page rocked through her mind and settled her fate while the silver ax hungered for her neck. "We shall send one of the Cardinals to retrieve her when it is time. Anima Sazaka, you may only invite one person to the proceedings. You and yours are dismissed."

Yet they're inviting every gods damned person who wants to see Anima magick fail.

"We will discuss it with her, Elder Orianna," Fenrer said and put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's go," he added under his breath and dragged her out of the life-sucking tower. The Wardens pushed any curious fancies aside with ease until the cold air which blew off the distant Aethejiin mountain range and swept through the golden plains of Dyrin. Her hand scrambled for support when it caught in her chest, and her fingers wound through Fenrer's as the Wardens tightened ranks. "I expected as much."

"This isn't going to work."

Fenrer squeezed her hand in comfort, but with a firm indication for quiet. Arm hooked around his, Adara tried not to trip on the smooth cobble beneath her. Ornaments swung across open storefronts, and she felt no connection to the Dyrenji's. Her real father's side inside her, and she had nothing of him like she had with a crimson shawl to protect her from the beasts in the obscured woods. Her voice returned to her when they entered the Warden square. "Now what?" Adara drove her heels in and forced Fenrer to turn to her. "Fen, you do have a plan right?"

"Yes," he assured.

"Can't you tell me?"

He shook his head. "I would if I could, but this will only work if I tell you in the moment."

"That's not comforting."

Fenrer held her face and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks, blazing with fiery suns. "I need you to have faith in me," he pleaded and stabbed her in the heart at his torment, hidden behind her hypocrisy. "I promised you, Adara... you'll be fine no matter how this concludes. But I need you to have faith."

Blind faith.

"I do," Adara managed out as his hands drew down to her shoulders and found herself slipping into the green swirls around his pupils. "It's them I don't trust — you heard them, my magick is dangerous. I'm dangerous to them. I can't convince them that I'm nothing else if that's all they want to see. Yuven was right. People will make monsters out of anything. But why should I have to prove that I'm not? I'm a person too."

Fenrer dug his fingers into her collarbone. "I am not asking you to prove anything to them," he whispered.

"Then are you asking me to have faith in their common sense?"

"Do you remember back in Prunal... during that tourney?" Fenrer leaned closer to her, almost nose to nose. "Do you remember Yuven, what he said and did even under the threat of death? You think he was trying to prove magick wasn't the menace they thought?"

"No... because nothing you two would've done would convince the king otherwise." It was so close, the clarity of Yuven's teachings. "I'm not Yuven."

Fenrer tilted his head forward in quiet acknowledgement, a point proven. "It will make sense," he whispered to her. "In the moment, Adara. On that precipice, it's the only way. Have faith."

Bells tolled, and she held on tighter to him before she drew away. "Can I... join you again, tonight?"

He nodded and pressed his lips against hers, the comforting wave of an aurora slipping over her mind, not from his Aurus power, but him alone. "Go to the refectory in the Lodge and try and eat something, alright?" he asked. "I'll be in the postal office... sending a letter back to Euros about the Convocation's reactions to our request and other things."

Have faith? Adara let him go and he wandered to the building attached to the Lodge. In what?

In myself?