Chapter 1

(Note: this is still a work in progress and subject to change)

Bells rang out as ships of the fleet disappeared. They scattered into the misting rain that clung to Tacita’s dress and made the push rims of her wheelchair slick. Soldiers donned helmets and grabbed shields in a frenzy of activity around her. Rocks coated in chemical fire fell all around from enemy ships still hidden in the mist. The Sapphire, the eternal hurricane, loomed like an apocalypse overhead. 

Someone shouted. Tacita turned as a ship’s mast appeared like a phantom out of the fog moments before impact. The ship lurched with the crunch of crumpling timber and splintering wood. Tacita was thrown from her chair. She gasped as she landed, pain lancing through her shoulder. Her chair. She only glimpsed it through the rain as it as it careened full speed towards the railing and hurtled off the side of the listing ship.

My books… a pang caught in her throat at the last sight of the pack on the back of her chair. Cries and metal ringing on metal brought her back to the present. 

Really Tass, books? Right now? She shook her head, trying to get her bearings as she lay on the deck. Their ship was being boarded. Black and gold mixed with the blue and gray of the invading marines. The clangs of wood on metal, shouts, and cries. Her shoulder throbbed, blood mixing with the water flowing across the deck. She hoped it was fine, though it didn’t feel fine. She had to move.

She searched for her staff before realizing it had gone over with her chair. The enemy closed in. She needed to…to what? And why hadn’t Lorcan returned? 

With an instinct born of panic, she crawled for the doors to Lorcan’s quarters, her legs getting tangled in layers of dress as their soaked weight dragged. Her hand touched metal as she went – a shortsword. She grabbed it, hoping the wetness was more rain than blood.

She pulled herself to the doors and slipped inside, slamming them shut and pressing her back against them. Her legs ached. She needed to breathe, to calm herself, but the cacophony outside told her there was no time. It only took a glance to see her side was losing; her shipmates were dying. Neus. She’d last seen him in here. Maybe…

The impact had turned a cozy-looking study nearly unrecognizable - bookshelves toppled, books scattered, Lorcan’s beautiful desk was on its side against the wall, and papers were scattered enough to be snow. In the far corner, a boy was curled up like a frightened rabbit. 

“Neus!” Tacita called out with as much relief as surprise. He wasn’t actually a boy, but he was short and skinny enough to pass for one, especially since his pale face had yet to manage more than a whisper of a beard. He uncurled from his position as she crawled over to him. She hugged him closely, though let go suddenly.

“Sorry, I know you’re still mad.” She said.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the noise from outside drew their attention. 

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll get us out of here.” 

“How?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

That was the question. She glanced around the room, mind racing. “Neus, what are the odds of two fleets taking a route through the Sapphire and running into each other like this?”

“Um… zero?”

“Unless we’re all here for the same reason.” Finally, fear gave way to a plan. “They’re looking for the same thing we are, but if they knew where it was, they wouldn’t be here. Which means we have something they want. And Lorcan and I found information about a secret island.”

“Um, why do you got a sword?”

Curse-addled brain. Tacita wondered the same thing. Then she took it and pierced through the lower half of her dress, cutting slits down either side and tossed the sword aside. “That, I guess.”

She tied the halves of the dress together to keep them out of the way and crawled to the desk, forcing open drawers. She upended them then tossed them aside.

“Ain’t Lorcan gonna get real mad at that?” Neus asked.

“We’ve been hit. Likely, the enemy’s ram is the only thing keeping us from sinking right now.” Where in the dark is he anyway?

Something thunked against the deck, and Tacita went for it. In her hand was a black, sleek slate of rock smaller than the palm she held it in - A Mindstone, a mental repository made by the ancestors. A message through time. This one held thoughts of an island and a desperate need to keep it safe. If it was valuable to the ancestors, it could topple empires in modern times. She hesitated. Lorcan would call her small-minded, foolish for giving this up to save her ship.

It didn’t matter. She would figure it out. She dug into a pile of books and papers until she found an opaque, white, egg-shaped relic. An Everlight. That would get everyone’s attention.

“Stay here.” She told Neus. She grabbed a toppled coat rack to use as a walking stick. Not the most dignified, but more so than the hilarious tragedy of trying to walk unaided.

Tacita opened the door just enough to squeeze out, returning to the rain and clamor of battle. Soldiers clashed even as they struggled to stay on their feet with the slippery, slanting deck. Facing that chaos, her plan suddenly seemed really stupid. 

Before she had time to reconsider, a soldier clad in gray and blue rushed her, curved shortsword held high. She put the coat rack between them, but the impact slammed her against the door. Without its support, her legs gave out. The soldier threw the coat rack aside and raised his sword again. She feebly kicked at his ankles.

“Wait! I have what you want!” She shouted. He hesitated. 

She thrust the Everlight out towards him, closed her eyes, and thought of the ever-present sun. Even behind closed eyelids, the orb lit up with blinding brightness. The soldier shouted. Tacita pushed herself away onto the open deck, then rolled with the listing ship. The angle sent her into an uncontrolled tumble until she smacked hard into the railing. 

Good one Tass. She coughed. Pulling herself up with the railing, she sent the Everlight to hover over her. Some noticed the bright light, but the chaos was too much for most. Just enough attention to get me killed, not enough to save me. 

As if on cue, soldiers closed on her. She reached her thoughts to the Everlight again. In theory, she could make an Everlight explode brilliantly. Mostly harmless, but it might be enough. She’d need to overload it, to tell it contradictory things until it gave out. 

A legionnaire, Vivian she remembered, clashed against the oncoming soldiers. It was the moment Tacita needed, but Vivian was outnumbered. Tacita pushed down the dread that she might see someone she knew get cut down. Instead, she thought of home, of the Terminus. That line of life between ever-present Day and never-ending Night. Light and dark, simultaneously. 

The orb burst into ribbons of light that showered across both ships. For a precious moment, everything stopped. It was the only moment she’d have.

“I am Tacita, ward of Saint Lorcan, and I have what you are looking for!” She held up the Mindstone, then held it over the ship’s edge. “Make one move and lose it forever!”

Silence. The invaders held the central deck and parted to reveal one of their own with a half cape over one shoulder. 

“Not a step closer.” Tacita commanded, but her voice wavered.

“What are your terms?” The soldier, a commander of some kind, responded in a calm feminine tone.

“Return to your ship. Leave us.”

“Your ship is badly damaged.” 

Right, of course. So what was better - surrender to them and save lives or get them off the ship and hope rescue arrives before the ship sinks? She scanned the faces of her shipmates but found no answers, only fear. She was deciding all their lives.

“I…” Tacita hesitated. The commander took two steps forward. Depending on rescue was too much of a gamble, but being taken prisoner could be as much a death sentence. Was it more noble to fight to the last? Did that matter?

The commander was upon her. “Stop! Or I drop it!”

She held out her hand with a smile that was of condescension or deception but Tacita hated it either way. “You drop it, and you die.”

“I’m willing to take that risk, are you willing to lose it?” 

“So we wait until the battle is decided? I don’t think so.” 

Someone shouted as the doors from Lorcan’s quarters burst open. Neus was thrown to the deck by two attackers. The commander glanced behind for a moment.

“Tass!” Neus pleaded.

“Now we have some leverage too.”

Tacita’s heart was racing so hard she felt faint. “Vivian, do we have enough boats for everyone?”

“It’ll be a tight fit ma’am, but we’ll manage.” Vivian responded guardedly.

Tacita took a breath and addressed the commander. “Let everyone go, send your marines back to your ship and I’ll give you this…and me. I’m a ward in the imperial palace. I’m valuable.”

The commander didn’t respond.

“Or you lose this relic and we find out how badly we make you bleed before you take this ship.”

A breathless moment. Then the commander whistled once with a whirling motion of her hand. The marines backed up towards their breach point, filing back to their ship a few at a time almost as quick as they’d arrived. The commander approached Tacita. “Come now little imperial.”

Tacita collapsed onto the deck. “I…can’t walk without aid.”

The commander scoffed and grabbed her by the arm, half aiding, half dragging her as they headed off Tacita’s ship. Tacita held on tightly against the pain.

As they crossed over onto the enemy ship, someone shouted. An arch of white light descended down upon the upper deck of their ship. Black powder ignited and the upper deck disappeared in a blast of fire and black smoke. Tacita and her captor were knocked off their feet. Tacita clawed at the arm holding her and thrashed as her surroundings blurred and cries and cheers filled the air simultaneously. 

“Soldiers of the Empire!” Shouted a voice, heavenly and deep. Cheers rose louder. 

The commander grabbed Tacita and slammed her against the deck. “You deceitful little demon!” 

Tears welled in Tacita’s eyes, against the pain or fear she wasn’t sure. She could barely see the knife the commander drew even as she thrashed to avoid it. 

Then the pressure was gone. Replaced by a golden light and soothing heat. She wiped tears away. He stood over her. His eyes shone and his fair hair blew in the wind of the storm. The heat coming off him caused his dark shirt and golden-half cape to ripple as he faced the marines that remained. The commander had crumpled over, cradling a smoldering wound in her side. 

“Lorcan,” Tacita gasped out. Screams rang out and the smell of burnt flesh was overwhelming. Despite this, all tension left Tacita, all but the desire to be held by Lorcan. It was over. She was safe.

“Starlight, what are you doing?” His voice was a balm, even as it was also incredulous. 

“I-,”

“One moment,” he stepped away and slammed his fist into the deck. The wood cracked and rippled beneath her as a painful wave of heat flowed over her. Then parts of the deck splintered as explosions ripped through it from below. She flinched as chunks of the ship's upper deck landed around her. 

Even through her panic and the ringing in her ears, she could hear the cheering of soldiers and the chanting of Lorcan’s name. She couldn’t help but open her eyes and see him in the thick of it. Anxiety welled in her, as irrational as it was, that he might be killed. A marine attacked with a sword thrust, for him only to catch it. With his other hand he landed a heavy hit into the marine’s chest, sending the man off the side of the ship as he ignited into a ball of flame. He dropped the sword, which landed next to her, glowing and misshapen where he’d held it, then turned to face the others. They lunged with spears and he never bothered dodging. They shattered against him, melting and burning all at once. He grabbed one assailant, headbutting him. The marine stumbled back, leather burning where Lorcan had touched him. A pair of arrows splintered when they hit his back. He kicked the other assailant even as his attention shifted to the source of the arrows. On top of the enemy upper deck, half engulfed in flame, were the last of the enemy’s archers. Lorcan raised his hand and the fire whipped up into a whirlwind of flame, consuming the tower. He then whipped around, and the fire followed like a stream toward the last holdout. They dove off the ship to escape the flames. Some didn’t quite make it.

His light faded down to a smolder as the legionnaires flowed around and worked to secure what was left of the ship. He held up his fist in victory and a roar of cheers filled the air. 

It took Tacita a moment to notice when he held his hand out to her. She hadn’t moved from her spot since he arrived. Noticing she didn’t take his hand, he instead kneeled. He smiled as warm as his touch as his hand cupped her cheek. She leaned into it.

“Starlight, what were you thinking?” he admonished her, though his tone was friendly.

She started to cry. “I…we were losing. I just wanted to help. I, I thought…”

He pulled her in close and she melted into his warmth, only then letting the terror she’d experienced wash over her. 

“It’s alright. You try so hard, but you have to know this is not a place for you. You have to learn when to step up and when to step aside.”

Lorcan shifted and Tacita looked up. He had turned his head away, looking around. “I was coming as quickly as I could. I would have saved you and all… this wouldn’t have happened. Have faith.”

She lowered her head back into his chest, as much from shame as comfort. “I offered them the Mindstone to save the ship. I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you’d be back in time.” 

His gentle but iron grip pushed her away so he could face her eye to eye. “Starlight, how did you get into my desk?”

She could hear the warning in his voice.“It was damaged– I– I didn’t mean to–”

“First you speak, unprompted, with Neus, then you risk everything for one ship?” He chastised as if she was a child. She felt like one. “I thought we were agreed.”

She started to cry though she desperately tried to hold it in. Not in front of him.

He held out his hand and she returned the Mindstone.

“I can’t carry my burden and worry about you too.” He said. “We’ll talk about your place in this when we return to Kyvernus.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, trying to pull back into the hug but he held her firm, not giving any sign that holding her was any effort. 

“It’s okay, Starlight,” It felt as if he might relent and pull her back into an embrace, but stopped, much to her dismay. She glanced up at him finally, to see him looking past her. 

Flashes of lightning filled the sky, bringing haunting definition to the dark clouds. In their wake, thunder roared, resonating in her chest. It didn’t come from the storm.

Stormwings, flocks of creatures with long necks and expansive leathery wings longer than her ship flew overhead. Lightning cascaded from wingtip to wingtip and, at points, bolting down towards the water. She counted the groups, five or six in each, over a dozen flocks, she’d never seen so many. It wasn’t natural. The lightning - bolt after bolt bored through the clouds onto ships, shattering wood and melting flesh. 

“That’s not–”

“It’s her. Gods,” Lorcan cursed. “She’s here.”

Their eyes met, and Lorcan’s eyes were wide in a way Tacita had never seen. It passed as he noticed her gaze. “I have to go, Starlight. Stay on the ship, keep out of sight. Remember my words: I will always save you, trust me.”

She bobbed her head as he pulled her to her feet, hesitating, she parted from him and gave him a wide berth. “I love you.”

He didn’t respond, already looking ahead towards the new threat. He took a deep breath. The air around him rippled with heat and his body glowed radiantly before he flew like a shooting star towards the flocks of stormwings. 

Her heart caught in her throat as she prayed, begging the ancestors to see him through it. 

“It’s the Witchqueen, isn’t it?” Neus seemed to appear out of nowhere. 

Tacita startled, but she didn’t look at him, only nodded. Unless the enemy had a new demon on their side, it couldn’t be much else.

“What is she doing here? What are any of them doing here, Tass?” She almost warned him not to talk to her, that Lorcan might have seen and he could get in trouble again, but he was right. It was like the whole world was closing in on what was supposed to be a secret.

“Can Saint Lorcan beat her?” He asked.

“He’s a hero, a Saint of the Sun, child of Kenari. It’s his destiny to bring light to the darkness.” She paraphrased scripture she didn’t really believe.

“We’re dead,” A nearby legionnaire muttered to a couple comrades. They echoed ascent.

“Hey,” she called out, walking over with Neus’ aid. “You are soldiers of the Terminus Empire. Have faith.”

As if on cue, the clouds alit with radiance, as if the sun was descending upon them. Then sunlight pierced the clouds themselves in great lances, scorching the air such that the ensuing wind buffeted the ship. The stormwings scattered, the lightning subsided. The soldiers all around her cheered as a great serpent of light twisted in and out of the clouds.

“Kenari! Kenari!” They shouted. The god of the sun had arrived. But dread filled her as much as relief did the others - he was supposed to be leagues away. It mean he knew too. The hunt for this island was a race no one knew anyone else was in.

Lightning flashed again as the stormwings changed formation toward the new threat. They formed concentric circles around the center of the light, bringing the core of their lightning onto Kenari. Were they trying to fight a god? Even the ancestors weren’t capable of such a thing, but there was still an anxious pit in her stomach. “We need to get back to our ship.”

The lances of light strafed across the water, igniting ships and sending up walls of steam. The ship rocked, sending Tacita to the deck. There was still a battle out there, not that it mattered compared to the forces beyond comprehension that waged their own battle above them. 

“It’s coming!” somebody shouted. Tacita whirled to see one of the lances as it engulfed an enemy ship and continued towards them in a surge of steam and light.  

She braced herself, looking for Neus, but already the light was blinding. The heat became painful and she thanked the ancestors for being soaked to the bone as her clothes started to steam.  She crawled in a blind frenzy away from the pillar of light as it approached. It was like her skin was burning and the heat left her gasping. 

Then, for a sudden moment in that white light, she was weightless. Then the impact. What air she had in her lungs was gone. She gasped both at that and the euphoric feeling of cold water at it washed over her. Then she was tumbling. She didn’t land right.

Tacita opened her eyes, grasping for anything as she rolled down the deck, now angled toward the sea. The light had already moved on but the back of the ship was gone. Either the heat or the impact or both had shattered a full third of the ship. Already water had flooded the lower decks as the rest of the ship tipped skyward. Soldiers tumbled off into the water, the sucking vortex created by the sinking ship pulling them under.

Tacita grabbed a loose rope, it burning through her gloves as she gripped with all her strength. It took a moment to realize she’d caught herself.

Now to get off the ship. Without drowning, preferably. The deck rose ever higher. Soon she’d be dangling from the rope.

She looked for her ship, but if this one was tilting, it meant hers now had a large hole below the waterline. Getting back to her ship would just delay the problem. Both were doomed. There were no life rafts either. There was nothing at all in the fog created by the pillar of light, just a uniform refracted brightness all around her.

She steadied her breathing. The panic, surprisingly, still bubbled just under the surface. She looked up the rope she held on to. It was wrapped around a part of the mast, tangled from a broken sail. 

Oh this is a terrible idea. Tacita crawled, then climbed as the deck rose ever steeper, pulling herself up while her legs started to dangle. Reaching the mast, she leaned against it. The ship shuttered with a startling crack, the mast tearing from its foundation.

Tacita followed the rope until it led back to the top of the mast and a dangling line. She untangled it where she was, trying to get as much length as she could.

Alright Tass, this is the worst idea you ever had. 

She exhaled as she wrapped the rope around her hands, pulling it taught. 

Think about Valeria, Aella, Sitre and those who took up great names in ages past. You just need to be like them for a few moments, she bargained as she readied herself. The ship lurched again, bringing the mast to a 45 degree angle. She took a deep breath.

And jumped.

She’d imagined herself jumping like a hero into the frey, but it ended up more of an enthusiastic stumble. But the rope did its work. She spun, losing sight of anything as her grip weakened. 

“Please please please please please,” she begged. But her grip gave out and, not realizing she’d closed her eyes, she flew blindly like a rag doll until she hit the water, skipping like a stone. 

She tried to force her body to move as the cold ocean stunned her. It was sluggish to obey. Then the pain, but it was sluggish too. She needed to find the ship, to swim away from it, but it was a guess and her limbs already hurt, feeling like dead weights. Swimming was easier than walking, but not by much. There was nothing but mist and rain, all lit by distant lightning, light, and fire.

She would have to swim an impossible distance. Swim forever. That bubbling spilled over into hyperventilating. One area of the fog glowed brighter than the others, a beacon of red and yellow. 

Center of the battle? She guessed. Do I go to it? That’s stupid. I’ll be captured. Or be hit by a ship. Or shot. Or…

This wasn’t helping. She needed a better vantage point, so she waited for a crest in a wave to carry her up like a hilltop. But other than the distant beacons of light and faint orange glow of burning ships, it was like the darkness of the far side of the world had traveled here. There was nothing in the fog. She strained her sight in every direction, looking for and begging for and praying for for salvation.

The world itself responded with a gentle horror.

From below her, a hollow blue glow pooled around her completely independent of the water. She tried to look, but there was nothing more than the realization of the endless depths of water below. An odd sense of calm fell over her, like the panic had reached such a crescendo that it was beyond her ability to feel. She knew she was afraid, that she was paralyzed with it, but it was like it was happening to someone else. She knew this sensation, and she didn’t fight it. She didn’t want to feel the panic of something dragging her down into the depths. Or of drowning in dark waters so far from home. So she didn’t.

The light expanded until it was a gentle blue glow bigger than the ship she had been on. Twice as big, likely much more, but it was impossible to tell. Slowly, the light moved away in a steady direction, lighting up the surface of the water from below. 

And with that illumination came a piece of salvation. Driftwood, large enough to hang on to. Not far off. She forgot the fear she could no longer truly feel anyway, and swam for it. The source of the light did not seem affected or disturbed by her movement, inconsequential against the forces of the storm. The driftwood closed faster than expected, and she reached it quickly, having been aided by the wake of whatever was underneath her. As if responding, something breached the surface. It was like a small island, much larger in surface area than any ship she’d been on, and hinting at being larger still under the water. Upon a gently curved surface were glowing, bioluminescent plants of a dozen different colors that looked akin to fungi. Upon reaching the surface they let out bursts of faintly glowing clouds of spores, which took to the wind and the storm and flew off in a calm, pulsating dance. A deep, melodious sound resonated in and around Tacita.

A leviathan. It floated there for moments entirely separate from reality, like the world had paused while in the presence of this creature. It made sense why some considered them divine. She wasn’t sure she didn’t. Its presence made no disturbance on the world and was equally unaffected by the battle, the storm, or anything of great importance in her world. It simply was.

Then, with no preamble, it dipped below the water again. Long, flat tendrils tens of times longer than an Imperial warship dipped out of the water as it descended. The light faded as it returned to the depths, leaving Tacita alone, hanging on the driftwood it had revealed to her. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

In the direction she thought was towards the center of the storm, its wall of dark clouds swirled with a steady looming presence. The Sapphire Pillar of Creation, where all life supposedly came from, from where all waters flowed. She could believe it. It didn’t make sense to pray to it, like many did, but the awe certainly did. Like the leviathan, the storm could either save her or destroy her without ever knowing her existence. Being around something like that felt somehow familiar, yet isolating. So she prayed to her ancestors. She prayed hoping for wisdom, for guidance. They were the only ones whose wisdom could be equal to such a vast thing. They who, for all their knowledge, had to learn the wisdom from their own destruction that the world itself was greater than even them.

Maybe it was the world itself that could save her.