That night was a very restless one for Talia. She had anticipated as much, with what happened in the alley. But that wasn't where her mind took her. It kept mulling over the desert and the Diviner. She had been drilled in both armed and unarmed combat, over and over again by her instructors. But nothing had prepared her for the situation where she would need to use her skills against commoners. Her hand found her bruised shoulder, touching it ever so slightly. A loud sigh escaped her lips as she stared at the ceiling.
"How did she do it? Fight so effortlessly without even seeing?".
Talia wanted to scream in frustration, but at night she would wake the entire mansion. And attract Eldarion, which was the last thing she wanted.
She went for the next best thing and screamed into her pillow, muffling it considerably. That didn't do it. Instead she decided to get dressed and go outside for some fresh air, now that Tan'thalon's ingenious rain system had stopped bombarding all the windows in the city.
She quietly made her way to the garden. Here it became clear that it was a noble estate. No commoner could put this much work into landscaping their property. Most of them didn't even have gardens.
Talia's gaze turned towards the stars. Something about the little lights in the sky always soothed her mind.
Below her, the great arc wall shimmered against the night sky, the Lazulli inlays almost creating a starry sky of their own. The guards on top endlessly patrolling. To a newcomer like Talia it seemed like something had Tan'thalon on edge.
This short thought immediately threw her back to the alley and the ember seeker. A follower of Ba'ham. Everyone knew of the dispute between May'jahan, the goddess of life, and Ba'ham, the god of magic and knowledge. The heretic god. He was the reason people like the ember seeker existed. Talia had thought the capital city would have been spared from Ba'ham's whispers, but tonight had made her painfully aware that he was everywhere. A sharp jolt in her bruised shoulder served as a physical reminder of that.
But how was the Diviner tied in all of this? An arena champion in the lower rings. A crime fighting heroine. A disciple of May'Jahan.
All of the sudden the image of the Diviner's blind gaze looking directly at her mid combat popped in her mind.
Finally outside with no risk of waking anyone up, she let her frustrations vent in a loud scream. Her chest heaved with pent up anger and frustration, keeping her eyes closed. When she opened them again, they locked on a nearby tree. A quick punch. It didn't do much to the tree, but it sent a small shock up her arm to her bruised shoulder. Now more than a jolt, the pain was sharp enough to force her knees, followed by another shout.
She was too pent up in her own turmoil that she failed to notice him approaching her.
"My, my… what a curious sight. The lady of the house Suri-Farah, screaming at trees in the dead of night. Should I be worried for the poor oaks and elms, or for your sanity?"
Eldarion's voice carried that smug lilt. As if the whole situation hadn't annoyed her enough, he was the last thing Talia needed right now. All she wanted was to be alone. She gritted her teeth, not meeting his eyes.
"What are you doing out here, Eldarion? Shouldn't you be polishing your armor or… basking in your own reflection somewhere?"
He ignored the barb, or simply failed to register it, instead strolling closer to Talia with his hands folded behind his back. His posture was as self-centered as he was.
"I sensed unrest in you. A knight's instinct, you might say. And here you are, wounded, thrashing about at bark and branches. You should have called for me. My strength would have spared you the pain."
Talia slowly got up, a hand on her aching shoulder. Her voice was as cold as the ice she needed to put on that shoulder.
"I don't need your strength. I can manage on my own."
Again, Eldarion's posture mimicked his character as he tilted his chin with a smug smirk.
"Manage? I saw you stumble just now. You may know the forms, Talia, but against real foes, raw power and divine blessing prevail. That is what I offer you. What I am."
She snapped back, faster and harder than she wanted to.
"And yet it wasn't you who was there in that alley. Was it? You weren't the one who stood against them."
Eldarion scoffed, taken aback by Talia's bluntness. In part that was also what attracted him to her.
"Street rabble. Hardly worth unsheathing my blade for. Let the guard swat flies—I reserve my strength for true battles."
Talia narrowed her eyes. Somehow it kept astounding her how posh Eldarion was. Her voice was quiet, but cutting.
"A convenient excuse."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice an octave because he thought it was alluring. Once again he completely misread Talia's signs.
"You are spirited, I'll give you that. Fire and steel. It's why I find you… irresistible. In time, you'll see that my devotion is not something to spurn so easily."
She took a deliberate step back, creating distance between them.
"Devotion? You don't even see me, Eldarion. You only see yourself reflected in whoever stands near you."
This made his smile falter, causing him to cover it up with arrogance.
"You wound me, Talia. But wounds heal. And when your parents' wisdom finally dawns on you, you'll realize that I'm the only man worthy of you."
Talia quickly turned on her heels she faced away from him. A very clear gesture with a sharp voice.
"Or maybe I'll realize worth isn't measured in arrogance and titles. Leave me, Eldarion. I came here for air, not your suffocating company."
Eldarion paused, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he withdrew.
"As you wish, my fiery dove. But remember—no matter how far you stray into shadows and stars, you'll always circle back to the sun. And I… am that sun."
He made his exit with a self-satisfied flourish. One day he would have Talia by his side. He was sure of that.
Talia exhaled slowly, her fists clenched tighter than before. She swore then and there that she would surpass Eldarion. She would prove that she didn't need him.
She waited until his footsteps faded beyond the hedges before letting out the breath she'd been holding.
The sun, he calls himself. More like a fire that scorches everything it touches. He doesn't love me—he loves the way I make him look. A prize, a possession, a name to attach to his own. My parents see alliances, titles, heirs. They don't see me either.
Her shoulder throbbed again, but this pain was different—it reminded her she was still her own person, still capable of fighting back, even if no one believed it.
If Eldarion is the path they've chosen for me, then I'll carve another. I'd rather bleed in the dirt than rot in silk at his side.
Talia looked back at the stars. For a brief moment, she could almost imagine they were whispering, promising something more than gilded cages and arrogant paladins.
The night sky offered no answers, only silence. She let her eyes fall shut, forcing the anger to settle, if only for a few hours of rest. Until a crack of thunder in the distance caught her attention. She wanted to hurry back inside to avoid getting drenched again, but then remembered she had been looking at the stars without so much as a cloud in sight. That was the reason why Tan'thalon had its infamous weather system. It was dry for too long periods in a row. It could only mean one thing. Even in a city as big as Tan'thalon, it would be incredible if there were two elementalists at once. That was how rare the class was. The Diviner was still patrolling out there.
By dawn, Tan'thalon's fragile silence abruptly disappeared. Horns sounded from the arc wall, their echoes rattling every noble estate. Talia, who had never been to Tan'thalon before, jolted awake. She didn't know what the horns meant. It wasn't the alarm for impending danger nor a call to arms.
Word spread quickly: the desert had advanced again, swallowing another village whole.
Before long, Talia found herself standing in the vaulted council chamber, the scent of incense masking the stink of fear. Eldarion, polished to a blinding sheen, strode at her side as though he had already won the day.
The council chamber of Tan'thalon was vast, carved into the mountain's face and lit by Lazulli veins that shimmered like trapped lightning. The city was using the magic gem for a plethora of purposes. It hadn't earned its status as magitech capital for nothing.
Nobles, officers, and magitech scholars filled the seats in a layered crescent, their voices rising and falling in sharp debates about the desert's advance.
Talia sat among them, posture stiff, jaw tight. Eldarion lingered nearby, his presence heavy, reminding her of both duty and scrutiny. She kept her focus on the debates, trying to drown out the restless energy still simmering inside her since the alleyways. When the Diviner popped into her mind, she tried to force it away by turning her attention to the debates.
When the High councilor spoke, silence came as if someone had cast a mute spell on the hall. His voice carried the weight of a leader, stern and rigid. With a tap on the desk he demanded focus.
"The reports are confirmed. The desert swallows another village at dawn. That is the third in as many weeks. If this tide continues unchecked, the outlying provinces will be lost before the next season."
Eldarion rose from his seat, armor shining in the light. He really loved attention and stood there wanting it, like a peacock boasting its feathers.
"Then it is providence you have summoned me. The divine light of May'jahan flows through my blade, and with it, I will drive back the sands themselves. Grant me command of the expedition, and you may rest easy."
A female councilor rose to her feet rather skeptical.
"Spoken like a man who has never set foot in the lower rings, let alone the dunes. Tell me, Paladin, will your polished armor shield the villages when the desert rises to swallow them whole?"
Eldarion, posh as always retaliated with a smirk, puffing his chest to be seen.
"My armor has turned the blades of demons and the fangs of beasts. Sand will fare no better."
Half of the hall murmured approval while the other half, including Talia, rolled their eyes.
The high councilor cut across the murmur and turned his attention directly towards Talia.
"And what of you, Lady Talia of house Suri-Farah? You were a witness to last night's attack. Speak plainly—what did you see? Do you think Ba'Ham is involved?"
She hesitated at first, then steadied her voice.
"It wasn't just desperation or banditry. The ember seeker carried Ba'ham's mark. His whispers are stronger than we thought. Even inside the city. If the desert advances in step with his cult, this is no natural tide—it's a siege."
A male councilor rose, his face grim as he planted his palms on the desk before him.
"Then we face not merely shifting sands, but heresy given form. We must decide quickly whether to fortify the wall… or march to meet it."
Eldarion seized the opportunity to cut in, his tone dripping with certainty.
"March, of course. To cower behind stone is to invite ruin. Give me a hundred riders, and I will carve a path through the dunes to the very heart of this corruption."
Talia at this point was unable to keep her calm. Her voice was as sharp as the sword she wields.
"You speak as though arrogance is a strategy. The desert isn't a battlefield you can charge across—it consumes without mercy. It never relents. We need scouts, alliances, preparation—not reckless shows of faith."
Eldarion turned to with a smug half smile.
"Ah, my spirited lady, ever cautious. But courage, not hesitation, is what wins wars."
The high councilor raised, immediately silencing everyone. Even Eldarion knew better than to challenge him.
"Enough. Both voices will be weighed. A decision will be made at dawn tomorrow. Until then, prepare yourselves. Whether by courage or caution, Tan'thalon cannot afford to falter."
The council rose, voices buzzing everywhere. Eldarion strode off with a wave of his mantle, as though victory was already his. Talia lingered behind, her fists clenched at her waist. This was so infuriating. Almost more so than needing to be rescued in an alley. Though the weight of the desert pressed on her thoughts more heavily than even that or Eldarion's words.
As the council hall emptied, Eldarion left with a flourish of some younger nobles trailing his tail, like eager squires. They all wanted to bask in his spotlight. Talia rolled her eyes at the sight. She chose to linger, absently tracing the Lazulli veins on the chamber's floor. It looked like glowing cracks in the marble, like magic seeping through. Her thoughts were heavier on her than her bruised shoulder and bandaged arm.
With Eldarion out of earshot, the female councilor, a woman in her late fifties in robes of deep green silk, approached her softly.
"You spoke well, child. Bravery tempered with wisdom is rare in these halls. Do not let Eldarion's bluster drown out your clarity."
Talia sighed, lowering her gaze.
"My parents would disagree. They only see his name, his holy vows, his shine. Not the shadow that follows him."
The councilor studied her closely, looking for cracks in her appearance.
"Your parents see politics. I see a soldier wrestling with a truth others are too afraid to name. The desert does not march like an army—it grows. One does not defeat growth with steel alone."
Talia hesitated. Then her voice almost whispered.
"Then what does defeat it?"
The councilor glanced at the nearly empty chamber, only a few nobles and generals remained. Her voice hushed.
"Perhaps not defeat… but balance. And for that, we may need someone who knows the desert better than any of us. Someone the common folk already whisper about."
A faint sound echoed, like a distant whistle accompanied by footsteps at the far end of the hall. Eldarion's posse stirred uneasily as they lingered near the door. He himself stood proud and unafraid as the braziers near them flickered as if a wind just passed through.
Talia felt it.
A shift. A silence.
At the chamber's entrance, robed in deep blues and silvers that shimmered faintly with elemental threads, the Diviner stepped inside. Barefoot, staff in hand, her hood drawn low over sightless eyes, she moved with the poise and confidence of one who needed no guide. The guards bowed her through as though she were royalty. She had an unseen status here.
Murmurs rippled through the room. Some spoke her title with reverence, others with suspicion.
The councilor responded in a low murmur to Talia.
"Ask, and the gods provide… or perhaps they test us."
But Talia's heartbeat had already quickened—not from the whispers, but from the way the Diviner's head tilted ever so slightly… directly toward her. Just like she had done in the alley.
There was no hesitation. No wandering glance. Out of the dozens of nobles, generals, and scholars still present in the chamber, the Diviner's veiled gaze settled squarely on Talia. There was something about her that unsettled Talia.
"You again," the woman said softly, though her voice carried through the chamber as if the air itself chose to deliver it.
A few heads turned in surprise at the familiarity of the remark, including the Councilor.
Talia straightened, heat rising in her cheeks.
"We've met," she managed, tone clipped, trying to smother the flicker of… something.
Trying to fight the blush on her face.
The Diviner only smiled faintly, unhurried, as though amused by her restraint.
"Yes. And still you carry yourself like a storm, tightly leashed. I can feel the tension in the air around you."
Talia bristled, fists clenching at her sides. "I'm a paladin. I was trained for discipline."
"Were you now?" The Diviner's smile sharpened, almost teasing. "I hear your heart faster than any soldier's discipline. It beats like wildfire."
Talia froze. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Eldarion stepped forward from his fixed position near the gates then, ready to defend his interest. His voice cut through the tension.
"Diviner. With respect, the council is gathered for matters of state, not… personal observations."
The Diviner did not even turn to acknowledge him. Her blind gaze remained fixed on Talia, the faint smile never wavering. Even while trying to avoid her, Talia noticed her smile went lopsided to the left. Perhaps a remainder of a fight.
For a fleeting moment, the whole chamber felt smaller, the whispers of nobles fading to nothing. It was just the two of them, bound in a silent defiance neither quite named.
Talia tore her eyes away first, though the echo of the Diviner's words burned in her chest.
Wildfire.
The Diviner in turn turned her attention to the gathered council. The tone in her voice remained as calm as her composure, never once wavering.
"The lady paladin speaks the truth, Council. While the desert is advancing, it seems so is Ba'ham's cult. More and more whisper on the streets. Whispers of promise of power and forbidden knowledge. There is unrest." she paused, taking a slow breath "If I may make a suggestion?".
The gathered council quickly turned towards their high councilor. With a light nod he gave permission, unaware that the Diviner couldn't see the gesture.
It was Talia who took the chance to make a sharp remark.
"He nodded, in case you missed it" Her words carried a bit of venom in them.
The Diviner merely tilted her head back towards Talia, turning her unsettling unseeing gaze on her.
"I know. I heard him." she exclaimed before directing the Council again "Address both issues. Send a party to the desert and another to investigate the cult".
She titled her head back to Talia with a message meant solely for her.
"Train. Learn to temper your fire."
As the council hall emptied out, only the councilors remained. After assuring herself that they were alone, the female councilor was the first to speak up.
"High Councilor Maranth. She is right. We do need to address several issues at hand".
Maranth took a deep breath, then exhaled through his nose. His way of relieving some tension.
"You are quite right, Councilor Veyra. I think it is time we spoke with that data analyst up in her tower. Shyra Volthen. What are your thoughts, Councilor Jareth?"
"We should speak with the shield architect, Drenn Veylak, as well. The arc wall might need to be fortified."