Devotia Ch. 19: Conviction

19- Conviction

If Callie had not spent her entire evening out in the city, bringing the gift of Yala's blessing as far and wide as she could bestow it, she would have brought Calvin into the villa and slept in his arms. She'd already kissed him in front of dozens of people, the rumors would surely be out and flying around. She'd already broken more rules and customs than she could count by being out and giving blessings at night. Why not take something for herself?

So, as she sits on the balcony with Junivere, overlooking the city as the first washes of sunlight peek out over the eastern mountains, she tries to envision being between his arms, up against his chest, feeling his breath breaking against her face and inhaling the soothing scent of him. She wonders briefly if she'd ever convince Junivere to join the two of them, then marvels that it would probably make Calvin the first person to ever lay with two Devotias at once.

The news of a Devotia of Yala spreads quickly through the city. Callie is nowhere close to the only person who stayed up all night. There were dances and celebrations, songs bursting out over the streets. And as the dawn breaks, it may as well be a holiday in Solva - an impromptu one, but one nonetheless. If she survives the coming days, perhaps it'll become an established one. The Feast of Yala's Anointing.

The crook of Junivere's neck remains a place like home for Callie, and she rests her head there as they sit and watch the city below. Her fellow Devotia's arm is around her back, palm resting on her waist and tracing across her dress absent-mindedly. She allows herself to relax, if only for a moment.

"By the goddesses," Junivere sighs, her legs dangling off the edge in a way that should scare them both, but doesn't. "You really are something, Callie."

On the far side of the city, somewhere in the Rust district, a tiny, golden firework explodes and a cheer of delight calls out to it.

"I sure hope so. Otherwise I'm about to be run out of this city."

She gazes up at the sky, rising from orange to yellow to blue on the horizon. A little higher up, the full moon retains its hold on the day - one of those delightful mornings where sun and moon could coexist, unseparated by the partition of day and night. Time for Suul and Yala to be together.

She squeezes tighter against Junivere. Time for the two of them to be together.

"There's always Tulla," Junivere smirks. Callie tips her toes around, hooking her foot around Junivere's ankle and bringing it to her. "It'll work. I've got a good feeling about this."

Callie's arms bring herself closer still. It's difficult to ever feel close enough to Junivere - she always wishes to be deeper and deeper into her soft body. Callie smiles, and with a hushed elation, says, "Suul and Yala. Junivere and Callie."

Junivere's hand compresses against her hip, warm and sweet. "I can't even begin to fathom how much will change if both get Devotias going forward. The consequences will be far reaching."

"Hopefully in a good way."

Callie feels her neck and shoulders shift as Junivere looks down at her. She can feel her adoring look without even needing to see it. "I think it will be," she decides.

Consequences will be coming. Callie is under no pretense that this moment cannot last forever and ever like she wishes it could. But still, she's resolved to enjoy it for every second that time will allot for her.

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I do," Callie replies, appreciative.

"I haven't known how to describe it," Junivere shrugs, bringing Callie's head up and down with her shoulder. "It feels different than you and Calvin - different from how I've ever felt before."

"Same. But I like it," Callie agrees. "I've never had a sister, but I suppose this is like that."

Junivere's snorting cackle could surely be heard across the city, as far as Callie is concerned. She squeezes Callie tight, grabbing hold of her face to make her stare into her eyes and see how ridiculous that statement was. "You don't fuck your sisters," her breath sputters as a gorgeous grin consumes her. "I've no clue what goes on in Rookwell, but that's gross."

And Callie laughs with her. "Maybe I am tired."

"Goofy," Junivere accuses. "No, no I don't love you like a sister, idiot." A pause to consider. "I love you like you're my closest friend, and more."

"Bless the goddess for the 'and more.'"

Then, Junivere's hand is on her jaw, guiding Callie's mouth up into hers. It's so easy to sigh into it, to accept the Devotia's touch with a lightness in her chest and a warmth in her body. Junivere's tongue flirts with the space between her teeth, slipping back and forth, until Callie's is meeting it in her mouth instead.

And there was Junivere. The woman Callie loves more than any other woman she knows, a woman she could never have imagined loving - much less that it would be reciprocated. Theirs was a love that would always defy convention, would always defy her expectations, yet it would always be a place Callie could rejoice in.

She loves the glitter in Junivere's eyes as she pulls away.

"Now," the other Devotia throws her legs around the balcony and prepares to march inside. "They should have had plenty of time to start the meeting and get themselves all worked up. Let's go find out if you're excommunicated."

- - -

They'd shown up late, deliberately. It was something Callie debated, even as she walks inside and accepts that the decision has already been made. It was supposed to connote power, supposed to affirm that she was claiming an authority above even the Imperium.

She'd taken a heavy breath before entering.

Junivere was barred from entering with her, so Callie stands alone in the beam of morning sunlight, pouring from the gap in the roof to illuminate her place in the center of their throned semi-circle. Not for the first time, Callie shudders at the knowledge that this is the most powerful group of mages on the continent.

Velena, who had halted her monologue to allow Callie to take her place of scrutiny, continues. Callie's never seen her so angry.

"-constitutes a clear violation of the rites and customs of her station," the youngest Magister is explaining. Her voice remains poised and measured, but Callie can feel the fury underneath, and can taste the sharpness of her tone. "This is a dereliction of duty unlike anything in the history of the Devotia, such that I contend this to be the gravest scandal one has ever produced.

"In addition to public and private displays of a romantic entanglement, which compromises her judgment, I must further, and most egregiously, charge Devotia Callana with the reckless endangerment of the populace, for the practice of unsanctioned, untested magic."

Callie knows she's not supposed to speak, but she takes a small delight in pointing out, "But you have been testing it."

And the Head Magister, Krann, grumbles. "Devotia Callana, I ask that you do not speak out of turn. Magister Velena?"

Velena is standing before her throne, pacing upon the tall dias that lifts it up from the floor below. "It has not been lost upon this council that the tenure of Devotia Callana has been an unprecedented one. A newcomer to the city. The first threaded Devotia. She proclaimed the anointing of a second Devotia over Solva. And, she claims a new Arcana bestowed by Yala."

Xamner makes a displeased noise. "Claims? She's clearly demonstrated it." And Callie appreciates his comment, sparing her from the need to make the very same point.

Velena gives him a look that could kill, which Xamner ignores. Callie tries to meet his eyes, knowing that if she was to survive this, he is her only hope. To be removed it must be unanimous. She hopes she didn't push Dynasa too far. If she and Xamner turn on Callie, call her bluff and decide she's too dangerous...

"After such a desolate array of circumstances, the gravest of her crimes committed last night," Velena concludes, her voice whipping up the frustrations of the other Magisters, "after a rising tide of disrespecting and destabilizing tradition, I believe it is in the best interests of Solva, and luminant Suul, to excommunicate Devotia Callana and separate her ties to the Arcana."

"Seconded," Magister Markin adds quickly.

And, not to be upstaged, Beleveir joins him. "Thirded."

A hostile breath passes between them all as Magister Krann shuffles in his seat. He'd kept hold of his position as the head of the council for his moderation and level-headedness; though, Callie wasn't particularly counting on his support. She flicks her eyes to Xamner once more.

"Am I to take these motions as your votes? Three in favor of removal?" Krann asks the council, head on a swivel to confirm. Once confirmed, he rests back into his throne, one arm on either rest beside him. He releases a tired breath. "Out of respect for a Devotia, and the divine wisdom of both goddesses who have anointed her, I offer Devotia Callana an opportunity to speak in her defense."

Callie nods. Pauses.

Velena's power had come from her ability to speak and hold the room by her words - to take hold of the moment and decide how it would play out. Not dissimilar, she realizes, to how she'd gained influence over Callie in the first place. Before Callie could articulate anything, Velena already had answers for her.

So she'd wield a different attempt for power.

"I serve the goddesses," Callie says simply. She narrows her gaze, staring deeply into the eyes of each Magister. "Do you?"

Another long pause.

Krann watches her, thoughtfully, and apologetically declares, "I vote in favor. My apologies, Devotia Callana, but I do not believe this course of radicalism can be allowed to persist at the expense of our necessary institutions." He shakes his head. "Magisters Xamner, Hamada, how do you vote?"

Xamner finally meets Callie's stare. He considers her thoughtfully, and she thinks about all of his past talk about wanting a Devotia to stand on their own two feet. He'd told her that even when she felt all she was had been taught to her by Velena - and now, here she was, standing upon her feet and staring down the greatest magical council that exists. If that wasn't an independent Devotia, what was?

And she thinks of their talk of helping the city, of freeing the Devotia to return the balance to society. That is what they both wanted - last night was the first time Callie truly felt like a Devotia, the first time she truly felt whole. To be allowed to love, and to pour out that love for others, that is what she wants. That is all she desires.

She may not have taken the expected route, the meticulously crafted one that Xamner and Dynasa have spent years devising, the one that would occur at the expense of her. She would not be a candle, burned at both ends to be used up for a future she would not survive to see. If there were to be changes for Devotia, a brighter light at the end of the tunnel, she resolves to be alive and thriving to enjoy them.

So, she stares at Xamner, the old, thoughtful, critical man, hoping he shares her vision. Hoping he understands the risk she's taken, and can see the will of a goddess behind her, crying out for freedom. Damn the Standard Arcana, damn the Mirage Arcana. What matters to her is the active will of moving, the inertia of asserting change with all she can muster.

He moves in his seat. Folds his robes carefully as he considers.

"Remove her."

And suddenly Callie understands how Ellava felt.

He looks scornfully at her, frowning as though he could not stand the sight of her any longer. Xamner turns his face away, and a part of Callie wonders if he had made the same expression while condemning her predecessor.

The realization sinks in. She is going to be excommunicated.

Callie told herself she was ready for this, convinced herself that she would survive whatever might come, but the reality of being asked to give everything up, leave everything behind... Junivere, Cirene, the priestesses...

And Calvin might have told her last night he would go with her, but would he? Was he, too, armored and bolstered by the feelings of the moment?

"Magister Hamada," Kranna marches on to the final vote left. "What say you?"

Hamada was a stern, principled woman. Callie had grown to learn of her commitment to the people of Solva this summer, as the two of them worked tirelessly to save the keelt crop from the heatwaves that tore through the fields, but she was not known for her flexibility. She had values and stuck to them, was willing to argue and fight for them against any contestation.

Her sharp face considers Callie, much like one would consider which pear to pick from a cart. Are the features right? Round enough? Colorful enough? Will this be sweet and light, or sour and unripe? Her head tilts thoughtfully.

"Nay," Hamada replies, bringing her focus back to the Head Magister. "I do not condemn her."

And just as Xamner's rejection tore through her, so too does Hamada's protection wrench her open. She takes a step back, forgetting not to show her confusion upon her face for a moment, then shoves it back behind a highly controlled front.

What was she doing?

Velena leaps out of her seat, an accusing finger wagging at Hamada across the aisle. "Ridiculous! Have you no thought for the consequences?"

Markin has left his seat as well, his burly chest squaring in his robes. "This is a coup!"

Krann shows more poise, but not much. He glares at her from his center seat. "Magister Hamada, reconsider," he insists, nearly a threat. "She has broken probation, violated traditions, taken a public lover, engaged in reckless endangerment, and now amassed a band of followers loyal only to her."

Beleveir sits forward, his suave and pretentious voice biting at her as well, "What of your principles, eh? You're incessant in your scolding of the rest of us to consider principle, to consider moral longevity. You'd sacrifice your own values for her? For whatever power you think you may-,"

"First," Hamada says sharply, silencing him without leaving her seat. "Magister Beleveir, I'll not tolerate insults to my character, nor accusations against my principles. I'd advise restraint in your future speech, lest I remind you exactly why I succeeded in my challenge for this seat."

Beleveir grumbles, folding his arm over his chest.

"Second," Hamada continues, now turning her focus to the rest of the council. "What of the people?"

"What of them?" Markin growls.

Her hand points at the door, towards the city waiting for the results of this meeting, locked away and unable to be party to its deliberation. "They've now met at Devotia of a goddess who does not have a Devotia. What are they to think? Hmm?" She leans forward, her dark eyes piercing through the room. "Power is unstable when it is regressive. They cannot unsee this moment."

Velena sighs audibly. "She has broken countless laws and traditions to do this! This is a violation of the state."

"A violation she has committed in service of the people, not the state," Hamada says as though agreeing. Then, returning to her cool poise, cuttingly asks, "You'd remove a Devotia who has just personally blessed a significant portion of the city? What will they think of you, then?"

This time, it is Magister Krann who speaks up. "They will defer to the wisdom of this government," he says, a twinge of optimism in his tone.

Hamada does not relent. "Magister Krann did not save the keelt crop. Their Devotia did." She turns to her side. "Magister Markin did not renegotiate salaries at the monastic reconstruction and prevent a strike, their Devotia did." And, most aggressively, "Magister Velena did not bring the proclamation of Yala's blessing - their Devotia did."

A hush falls into the space. Tense. Anticipatory.

"The coup is already staged," Hamada concludes. "She has, wittingly or not, outplayed you."

And the Magisters consider her. Their eyes scowl at her, pick apart Callie, stare worriedly at the grand doors to the Hall of the Imperium. A long moment passes between them, curious to see who will break the tension, and in what way it will break.

It is the moderate Krann who accepts the task. With a heaviness in his tone, and a frustration hidden underneath, he says, "Forgive me, but as head of this body, and head of this state, I cannot accept this result. This is a clear and present threat to this institution, and to the stability of our city. Magister Hamada..." He sucks in a breath, holding his words mournfully, "I ask that you abdicate."

She does not hesitate to reply, "I will not."

Velena cuts in. "Then I challenge you for your seat."

Xamner releases a loud groan. "Is one throne not enough for you, witch?"

The young Magister, Callie's former mentor, stares down the council, daring them to deny her this chance to solve the problem directly.

It is Krann who speaks next. His voice is measured and careful. "Magister Velena, I believe it goes without saying that you cannot occupy two seats at once."

"I don't wish to," she says, annoyed at the assumption and shooting a murderous look at Xamner. "Should I prevail, in lieu of ascending to her seat, I will nominate a proper replacement." And, to convince the apprehensive others, adds, "Someone who will judge this moment properly."

"Seconded," Markin coughs. He bangs a fist on his armrest. "If you don't challenge her, I will."

"I accept both," Hamada says cooly.

"Magister Hamada-," Krann attempts.

"I will not accept insults to my honor, nor to my judgment," Hamada declares, and for a moment Callie is terrified of her. She'd heard rumors at what Hamada's temper could look like, and worn now on her face, Callie would never be brave enough to want to stand against her in a duel. "I will face Markin first, then Velena. I will accept the glad tidings of a goddess, even if the rest of this council will not."

Krann releases a low breath. "Magisters Velena, Markin, as the challengers it is your right to name the time and location."

Markin sits forth. "I would happily go here and now-,"

"In an hour," Velena answers for him. "The central plaza."

"I accept," Hamada stands before anyone else can chime in. Then her fierce gaze is locking onto Callie, and she declares, "Devotia Callana, I wish to speak with you."

Callie swallows back the activating fear her look instills, putting on as neutral of an expression as she can muster. "You may accompany me to the garden of the villa."

She escapes out the hallway towards the marble home, shooting a confused look at Junivere and the priestesses as they anxiously await the news. Willow is just about to ask a question when the icy fury of Magister Hamada marching behind Callie silences her.

They arrive in the exterior courtyard, where Callie turns and attempts a polite greeting, a word of gratitude -

"I would like to make myself clear," Hamada begins, absent of any warmth. Her terrifying gaze grabs hold of Callie, freezing her in place with her heart pounding against her chest. "If you are attempting to seize control of this government, I will not hesitate to personally end that threat."

"I have no intention of-,"

"And if I sense, at any moment," she whispers harshly, "that you have nothing but good intentions for the people of this city, I will remove you. Goddesses' will or not."

Callie inhales.

Hamada steps forward, towering over her. "Do you understand the norms you have destabilized today?"

"Yes," she replies quietly.

"Do you?" The Magister growls at her, and Callie would almost rather accept the easy ending of a duel compared to this lecture. "Never before has a Devotia committed such violations and not faced consequences. This is a dangerous space we are entering - one in which anything might come of this."