Devotia Ch. 21: Convalescence

He could leave, but he isn't. He wants something. Something I have and he doesn't.

Power.

"He's not mad because... I'm foolish," Callie croaks out, a little proud of the understanding forming within her. "He's mad that I've... coopted his plans for myself." She sits up and grabs hold of the edge of the bed, propping herself up with a locked elbow to glare directly at him. "You're not in control anymore... I am. I took it... from you."

Xamner's frown confirms it. He paces away, ignoring her accusation. "Velena will continue to escalate - she's been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, and Krann is too cowardly to resist her."

"Then we need to... work together."

"Together?" His mouth hardly gives breath to the word. "We were working together when you staged a coup?" He shakes his head and makes an exasperated gesture. "With your lack of subtlety, I don't imagine this will be the last assassin you face." He makes for the door, stopping at the threshold. "I'm sure the funeral will be lovely."

And then he's gone.

"Ass," Junivere grumbles.

"Problem for later," Callie sighs. "May I eat, now?"

- - -

The Festival of St. Geralda Maise. A celebration of the longest day out of a year - a sun that does not set for nearly eighteen hours. It venerates a Devotia more than a hundred years' senior of Callie.

Junivere had thought it would be a good occasion for Callie to finally reappear in public, after a wrought few weeks of recovery.

But Callie spends the entire festival waiting for a blade to plunge between her ribs, or cut through her back, or burst through her throat once again. She'd misjudged how ready she was to face the city once more, hoping that the steady affirmation of a crowd's support would revive her spirit.

If anything, it only heightens her fear. Danger lurks around every corner. Any person in the crowd may as well be Silas coming to finish the job - and while Junivere had directed Hamada to toss him into the cell of a dungeon, the terror remains.

Yala tries to comfort her. The luminous moon has a way of poking out in the sky at unexpected moments of her day to remind her of its protection. But the feeling of protection has already been shattered. Callie had nearly died. She spends her nights tucked away in the corner of her balcony, sleeplessly gazing down at the city and feeling guilty for not being brave enough to bring forth any blessings.

Until one night, she decides she is tired of that feeling.

- - -

Mykah is scrambling to fill a bag with his notes, scattered around his busy room. He's late for his next class, but Callie simply figures that meeting with a Devotia is as good a reason as any to be late.

"I... that's not really my area of expertise, Callie," he sighs, long fingers picking up a tome to inspect it before lurching to the side to shove it into his pack. "I'm not a duelist."

"Neither is June, and you're the better mage."

"And I know next to nothing about the Yalani Arcana," he complains. "No one does. The only people who've studied it are Velena and Dynasa."

"Exactly," she huffs, looking at him with her arms crossed. He's simply proven her point. "Look, you're the most brilliant mage I know, and the one I trust the most. Who better to lay the foundations of an entirely new paradigm of magic?"

Mykah's back straightens into a line as he scowls at her. A silent exchange passes between them.

"Mykah, very few mages have received Yala's blessing so far. I can give you one, and you can spend your free time experimenting with the magic, then teach me what you discover." A knock on the door from Gloriana thumps through the hall, and Callie gives a little shout to her that she still needs a few more moments. She steps closer to the mage, grabbing his hand and trying to invoke his sense of discovery, of invention. "Come on... brand new, completely unexplored magic, just waiting for you to uncover its secrets."

His mouth cracks open into a smile. "You're so fucking cool, you know that, right?"

And as though acknowledging it, Callie places a kiss on his cheek and watches as the shimmering, reflective silver lights baptize him into a new power. "I cannot wait to see what your brilliant mind uncovers."

My life depends on it.

She pushes aside the pit of dread in her stomach enough to politely ask, "How did your date go?"

Mykah blushes. "I'm seeing him again tomorrow night." Then he snorts and amends, "Well, now I'm guessing my nights are busy studying, so I'll bump him back to afternoon."

- - -

Salome has not yet returned, and slowly, Callie begins to wonder if she'd made a mistake sending her off on that mission entirely. It'd been borne out of a sense of optimism that now feels misguided. She had seen the prospect of a changing world, a newfound freedom, unhindered love within her grasp - all of which has been sliced apart like... well...

It had also nearly died.

The other priestesses, to their credit, seem to have taken it upon themselves to keep her spirits alight. Civa's cooking specialty meals for her every night. Willow has been dropping by poetry scroll after poetry scroll - some of which were even ones she'd written. Mira insists on ensuring every bath Callie takes is anything but lonely.

Initially, Callie felt it was a shallow distraction. None of them could protect her, and even with a rotating guard of Paladins around herself and Junivere, the office of the Devotia feels precarious at best.

But, soon it becomes one of the only sources of laughter in her day. They go out of their way to keep her occupied and smiling, and only sometimes playfully tipsy. Salome's booming laughter is missed, but they make do with what they can.

Until...

"Hal Devotia Yalani. I should like an audience, if you have the time."

Callie's spine freezes mid drink. The chill spirals through her, shivering out from her back and into her arms, her legs, her fingers. The contented inhale she'd sucked in just before the rose wine now holds heavily in her lungs.

Gloriana steps between her and the voice. The priestesses rise and join a semi-circle around her. Callie remains sitting, facing the mosaic wall before her.

"How far our trust has fallen, hal Devotia," says the voice. It's cool and polite. Calculating, but affectual. "I recall a time where I was your only guide amidst the thrills and terrors of your holy office."

Callie places the glass down and swallows a dry breath. She turns slowly, as though any sudden movement would result in her untimely ending.

"Magister Velena," she rasps out. "Perhaps another time?"

Velena grins, sleek and sour. She disregards her dismissal. "To your comfort, we may speak out in the center of the garden, in plain view of all. Your paladin and priestesses may remain - from a distance - and I will insist upon a noise ward."

Her tone conveys a warning. I will speak with you only this once.

Callie nods, allowing her party to guide the way into the garden, where Velena selects a pleasant moss-covered boulder to delicately lounge upon, waiting for her former student. Once the group has stepped adequately far away, though close enough for Callie's muted comfort, the ward goes up.

"To what do I owe the honor, Lord Magister?"

Velena's lip curves into a disapproving pout. "Are you happy with the woman you've forced me to become?"

Not at all.

"It brings me no pleasure to comport myself like this," the Magister continues, an open palm to the sky, "but I will do what I must."

A breath.

"For your own safety, I encourage you to abdicate."

Callie feels a prickle at the base of her throat. "Is that a threat?"

The Magister flicks the sleeves of her robes as she brings her hands into her lap. "I'd hoped we'd retain our rapport through your whole tenure as Devotia. It's a shame."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Not something you should concern yourself with," she dismisses. "I'd encourage you to consider instead my willingness to give you what you want."

Velena stands, taking a single step forward which Callie matches with a step in retreat. She pauses, then lays open her hands. "Here are my terms. Abdicate, and publicly condemn your actions. I will guarantee your safety out of the city and into a new life elsewhere. Bring Calvin with you. Junivere, too. Whoever. Leave Solva, and I will ensure you live comfortably and happily."

Callie sorely doubts her sincerity. "And if I refuse? You'll kill a Devotia?"

Velena looks offended. "I've not said anything about killing anyone, hal Devotia." Her voice drips lower as she takes a step forth, and something about her stare halts Callie in place. The Magister's hands grab hold of her arms, palms resting motherly against her biceps. She brushes the cloth of her sleeves as though removing dust from the fabric. "I simply worry for your safety. And for your loved ones."

"Stop this madness," the Devotia pleads in response. "Please."

Her heart flickers in her chest, skipping in anticipation of the blade she was afraid was coming. Velena wouldn't need one, yet still it might come.

"Madness?" She frowns. "Callana, you're unleashing the will of a goddess you don't understand. The people may love you now, but what will they think when Yala's will changes once more?"

The Magister squeezes her arms together, almost affectionately, with the spirit of an educator. "When the people are greedy and coveting her blessing, when you cannot satisfy the growing demand for her power that you've created, what will Yala become then? When her magic becomes so prevalent that it turns her into an arbiter of destruction, will you still boast in serving her?"

Callie steps back, but doesn't escape Velena's hold. "You believe she'll change?"

Something else settles in her stomach.

Callie's eyes widen with sudden understanding. "You believe in the Mirage Arcana?"

Velena defects once more. "A Devotia in abundance is very different than a Devota of scarcity. So too, is a goddess." She releases Callie. "Think it over, Callana. Who knows what may happen in the meantime if you decide not to?"