In fire and light, I rose. Wings of flame, my brown hairturning to molten gold. My voice burned the sky.
The soldiers fled. Most died in the retreat. My own people feared me, at first.
But they followed me.
I had rebuilt Solaris from that scorched earth. I had driven off the invading army, raising magical wards to keep others out.
Ever since then, Solaris had become the City of Light, and I had become the High Priestess of the Sun God, protecting my people with my powers.
But for all my power, all my divine gifts, I was utterly alone in this world—the sole phoenix shifter, my mortality sacrificed to the Sun God in exchange for the ability to heal, transform, and shield this city from harm.
A soft sigh escaped my lips as I turned my gaze skyward, drinking in the warmth of the sun's rays. It was in these quiet moments, when I allowed myself to be vulnerable, that the weight of my immortality truly began to bear down upon me.
The endless cycle of watching my people grow old and pass on, while I remained forever young and unchanging, was a lonely burden that grew heavier with every year that passed.
“If only there were others like me,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “Others who could understand the weight of this burden, the price of immortality.”
But alas, my prayers had gone unanswered, and I was left to shoulder the responsibility of my divine gift alone, forever bound to this city and its people.
A sudden commotion from the courtyard below drew my attention, and I leaned over the balcony, my keen eyes scanning the scene.
The guardians were gathered in the middle of the stone courtyard, surrounding a messenger who had come from the districts. They were talking quickly, their expressions grim, and I felt a knot of dread form in the pit of my stomach.
Swiftly, I made my way down the winding stairs, my robes billowing behind me as I approached the gathered priests.
“What have you discovered?” I demanded, unable to muster up any politeness in the face of my urgency.
Aeldrin whirled around. “Elena!” Then, glancing around at the guardians that surrounded us, he cleared his throat. “High Priestess,” he amended, “We have received grave news regarding the disappearances.” He waved a hand in the direction of the audience room. “The Elders have convened. They have asked to see you.”
I felt a chill run down my spine, my heart quickening with a mixture of trepidation and determination. “Then let us not keep them waiting, Aeldrin,” I replied, my voice steady and resolute. “I must know the full extent of this threat, so that I may take the necessary steps to protect our people.”
With a nod, the senior guardian turned and led the way back into the ornate audience chamber, where the assembled Elders sat in solemn silence.
The heavy oak doors thudded shut behind me, sealing me in with the Elders and their suffocating incense. Usually, I found the scent comforting, a symbol of the Sun God's presence, but today it just felt cloying.
As I took my place upon the elevated dais, I could feel the weight of the Elders’ collective gaze upon me. I kept my expression blank.
“High Priestess Elena,” Elder Kathar greeted me, his voice smooth as silk. “We trust you are well? These duties can be so taxing, and you have so much on your plate already.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and I had to fight the urge to fidget under his gaze. Despite the fact that Kathar was years younger than me, under his stern gaze, it always felt like I was being assessed, judged, found wanting.
I inclined my head, trying to project an air of calm authority.“Thank you, Elder Kathar. I am well, but I wished to discuss the reports from the outer districts. The drought worsens, and I am concerned about the efficacy of the relief efforts.”
Kathar steepled his fingers, his gaze never wavering. “Ah, yes, the drought. A most unfortunate situation, but hardly cause for alarm. We have it well in hand.”
“With respect, Elder,” I said, keeping my voice measured, “the reports suggest otherwise. Food stores are dwindling, and unrest is growing amongst the people.”
Elder Theron, his face a perfect mask of calm, interjected smoothly, “The people are always prone to exaggeration, High Priestess. We have dispatched additional provisions and are working with the district headmen to ensure fair distribution.”
I frowned, a knot forming in my stomach. “Have we considered magical intervention? Nekir is looking into it, but has not made a determination yet. Perhaps a water blessing, or a spell to encourage rainfall.”
Kathar chuckled softly, the sound grating on my nerves. “My dear Elena, you mustn’t concern yourself with such matters. The administration of Solaris is a complex affair, best left to those with the experience to manage it.”
“But these areourpeople, Kathar!” I retorted, unable to completely suppress the steel in my voice. “Their suffering reflects on us all.”
“Of course, High Priestess,” Kathar said, his tone infuriatingly paternalistic. “But your primary duty is to the Temple, to maintain the wards, and to serve as a beacon of light for Solaris. Trust that we, the Elders, are capable of handling the temporal affairs of the city. Do not trouble yourself about this. Leave the planning to us. Your good looks are wasted when your brow is furrowed in worry. We would hate to see you grow old before your time.”
My hands clenched in my lap, my nails digging into my palms.I had to bite back a sharp retort. Lately, it was always like this. My concerns were dismissed; my opinions minimized. I was the High Priestess, yes, but also, in their eyes, a young girl who needed guidance.
“I only wish to be assured that everything is being done to alleviate their suffering,” I managed, keeping my voice level.
