Labyrinth

Summary: He courted Vengeance, ready to walk the slippery annals of political intrigue and treachery in his search for Truth, ready to protect a Prince for whom he had no loyalty. He just did not count on being trapped in this labyrinth in the company of a callous mercenary and an utterly useless warlock.

Prologue

“A storm is coming.”

Incredulous brown eyes surveyed the pale profile of the one who had just uttered these words, before searching for the truth of the statement in the cloudless sky which seemed to have been inverted over creation like a gigantic bowl made of the finest sapphires.

Brother Won forced his face to remain impassive. If Lady Helga, High Priestess of the One, saw the signs of a storm in a perfectly clear sky, then there must be a deep, significant meaning behind it. He was, after all, still a mere Initiate and it would be years before he understood the language of the Gods. For the moment he would have to remain content as the Chief Attendant of Their most beloved, the High Priestess.

He cast yet another surreptitious glance towards Lady Helga, who stood as still as a statue on the marble steps which led down from the temple of the One to the glittering waters of Raksha. She looked very white, etched against the turquoise sky, for some reason appearing totally devoid of color, save the glimmering abundance of soft golden curls which cascaded down her back, her unseeing amber eyes poised on some unknown point in the distant heavens.

“Ah.” Her voice was a mere whisper, so low that he barely caught the words, yet the anguish in them was unmistakable. “It is here.”

It was then that he noticed the collected darkness which had gathered at the horizon, slowly spreading its tentacles across the spotless sky like some ominous dye, casting the land into premature night. The air suddenly grew colder and the winds of the four directions growled as the fetters which bound it started to unravel.

Won shivered, drawing his cloak closer around himself.

“My Lady.” His voice could barely be heard over the rising crescendo of the wind. “We should head inside.”

Helga gave no sign of having heard him, white hands clasped at her bosom in a kind of mute supplication. The wind mauled her hair into a tangled mess, a thousand watery arms of the raging Raksha clawed at the hem of her robe, the roar of the heavens drowned the soundless prayer on her lips and still she showed no sign of abandoning her position.

“My Lady.” Won yelled desperately, the whirling dust nearly blinding him. “We really should go inside.”

His desperation did not reach her. She stood still and silent, like an anchor in the chaos, seemingly detached from all the madness that surrounded her. She seemed to be in a trance, elevated to that sphere where the Celestial beings spoke to her. He dared not touch her, least he break that fragile bridge and invoke Their wrath.

He had the sensation of feeling awed and helpless at the same time, wanting to drag Lady Helga back to reality and to safety and yet, wanting to be a part of her Revelation.

“Lady Helga.”

A sharp shout and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps jerked him out of his stupor. He had barely had the time to gather his wits when he felt a mailed fist closing around his upper arm.

“Won. They told me ...” A face dark and tired swam into his view, blue gray eyes resting on his face for an infinitesimal second before resting on the still figure not far from him. “Is the damn woman insane?”

Won's ears reddened. The use of such expletives, especially against the High Priestess of the One was nothing short of sacrilege, an offense against the Gods.

“Lady Helga.”

The perpetrator of the heinous crime remained oblivious, hurrying down the steps towards the Priestess, when she displayed no signs of responding to his repeated calls.

Won put out a hand and stayed his progress.

“Please, General Kala.” He said with as much dignity as he could muster. “You must not disturb Lady Helga.” He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable under Kala's unwavering gaze. “I think that my Lady is about to have a Revelation.”

“Won.” Kala's cruel lips pursed into a thin line as he carefully pried his fingers loose from around his arm. “I had no idea that you were so big a fool.”

The redness of his ears threatened to dye his cheeks with color and Won made a conscious effort not to sound flustered.

“You don't understand General. Touching her will break the Connection. Please...”

His words glanced off Kala's armor. He was not even sure that his words reached him over the howl of the wind.

“General.” He moved ahead half a step, suddenly desperate. “It is the Gods who protect her ...”

“I know.” Kala's voice sounded far away, cutting him short. There was the hint of a laugh in his usually curt tone. “That is why they sent me.”

Won opened his mouth suddenly at a loss of words. Something twisted in his gut as he saw Kala stretch out a hand a jolt her back to reality.

“My Lady.”

Won had the sensation of something snapping as Helga's eyes fluttered open. For a moment she seemed to stare blankly at Kala before crumpling like sodden paper. If the General had been taken aback, it was only for an instant, managing to catch the Priestess before her head struck the cold stone.

“What have you done?”

The words exploded from Won’s lips and he started forward, only to stop midway as Kala came up the stairs carrying Lady Helga in his hands like a wilting flower.

“Don't stand gawking man.” Kala's voice was terse. If he was rattled at having angering the Gods, he hid it quite well. “Lead the way.”

Won's nostrils flared. “Very well.” He would bring this heretic to the book later. “This way.”

They mounted the steps rapidly, continually buffeted by the increasing storm. The sky started to weep, fat cold drops hitting them like icy arrows, chilling them to the bone. And frankly, Won was quite relieved when they passed under the spiraling columns and through the wide doors into the warm interior of the temple.

The Priests and the Initiates hurried forward; clearly rattled at seeing their beloved High Priestess lying so lifelessly in Kala's arms.

“Quick.” Kala's voice was curt. “Get some dry clothes.” The words flew quite easily from his mouth; his was the air of a man who was habituated to giving orders and having them carried out. “And some warm milk.”

Long legs carried him to a recliner artistically arranged in one corner of the Great Hall and placing Helga gently on the silken sheets, almost as if she were made of the finest glass of Qin, before moving away. The other priestesses closed in around Helga, drawing a flowered screen around her, shielding her from prying eyes.

The wind howled outside the temple premises. A thousand demons laughed and thrust their many pronged silver spears into the earth and it appeared as if the Gods had turned their face from creation. Won could not restrain a shiver as he gratefully accepted the dry clothes offered to him. The storm suddenly seemed much more than a natural calamity, almost like the harbinger of some ill omen.

General Kala was standing at one side of the room, wet hair plastered to his thin brown face, leaning against a column, the flickering torchlight casting a strange dance of light and shadows on his profile.

“Brother Won.”

A soft voice claimed his attention.

“Priestess Hira.” He acknowledged the soft footed girl, eyebrows raised in soft enquiry.

“The High Priestess has requested to see you and the General.”

Kala started forward not bothering to wait for Won’s signal or for the ushers to properly announce him in Lady Helga’s presence.

Won frowned, running after the General, barely able to restrain himself from physically forcing Kala into a more appropriate behavior.

The screen had been removed and Lady Helga sat serenely on the recliner, swathed in the finest silk of Kasman, her wet hair forming a golden halo around her face.

“Lady Helga.” Kala’s bow was curt. “So, how are you feeling?”

Helga smiled, her corn-flour blue eyes rested for a while on Kala’s face.

“General.” Her voice was soft, yet no one missed the steel edge behind them. “I have lived in seclusion for too long.” She lifted her chin squarely, and though her words were delivered as a statement, the command behind them was unmistakable. “Arrange for my journey to Ajitah.” Her nostrils flared a little. “Immediately.”

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