Page 6 of War Seer

“Your words are ignorant, Gunag,” I say, before King Rognar can respond. “Lady Melelea has had her gift her whole life. She knows the difference between visions and dreams. You insult your king’s mother with your skepticism.”

Gunag has the grace to look chagrined at my rebuke. “I meant no offense to the Lady Melelea, of course. I just meant, it has been quiet these past few weeks since Grazrath was ousted from Barakrin’s throne. Can we be sure that he even has the strength to assault the Mage’s Tower?”

“All the more reason to believe my mother’s words,” King Rognar interjects. “An archdemon like Grazrath would never be content to live in hiding like an animal in the woods. He believes Anar’i to be his birthright. He would never stay down when he could do something to increase his power. It has been too quiet these last few weeks. It makes sense that he would act now.”

“But, My King—” Gunag begins.

“Enough, Gunag,” I bark, again surprising everyone. I am known to be the quiet one, the one with a level head, but I am not level-headed now. Not when it comes to Lady Melelea. Not after having failed her all those years ago. “Lady Melelea has proven her gift many times in the past. You are showing your ignorance by allowing your skepticism to blind you to that truth.”

“It is all right, Wodred,” Lady Melelea interjects. “I do not expect people to believe me just at my word. Not everyone believes in soothsaying.”

I hate her words, her defense of one who insulted her. It reveals more than she thinks, that she was taught to downplay her gift and accept offenses from others. She should never have been made to internalize such beliefs.

“Only the foolish would dismiss you after you have been right so many times in the past,” Queen Adalind speaks up. “I believe you, Melelea. That should be enough for you, Gunag.”

The orc looks angry to be chastened by our human queen. “I am merely saying—”

“You are merely saying insults to my mother, Gunag,” King Rognar interrupts. “She is sasari, a seer, like my grandmother before her. In Trillin, sasari are revered, and their wisdom and visions prized. You dishonor my mother and her gift with your repeated questions.”

That seems to shut Gunag up, and at that moment, the lady-in-waiting returns, holding a basin and a pitcher of water.

“I have your scrying materials, my lady,” Naiva says, placing them on the table before Lady Melelea.

“Thank you, Naiva,” the trolless replies, taking the pitcher of water and pouring it into the metal basin. It appears to be beaten copper, with runes etched on the sides, made for this exact purpose.

“I will attempt to see what is happening at the Mage’s Tower and project what I am seeing for the room,” she announces. Her fingers trace over the air above the scrying dish, glowing with magic, and a large orb of light appears in the space above the table, Lady Melelea using her illusion magics to project what she is seeing for us all to witness. At first, the orb shows the still surface of the water in the basin, then the water ripples and colors shift, images showing the surface. Soon, we are looking at the tops of trees, as if we are flying above a dense forest. The perspective shifts, and we see a tower in the distance, stretching into the night sky. An alarm bell clangs in the distance, getting louder as we get closer to the structure. Then we see it, a form with large bat’s wings stretching out behind it, flying off from a wall. It is very obviously carrying another person, one who squirms and wriggles like it is trying to get away, but cannot.

“Grazrath,” breathes out the queen as we all stare in horror at what we are witnessing.

“Can you get closer, Mother?” the king asks. “See where he is taking his prey?”

“I can try . . .” Lady Melelea grits out, the effort of scrying and projecting obviously taking its toll on her. The image moves and shifts, getting closer, showing the demon in more detail, his pebbled violet skin marred on the chest and part of his face with smooth human skin, revealing his vulnerability. He holds a frightened-looking mage in a cruel grip as he takes off into the sky. There is nothing we can do but watch helplessly as he takes his prisoner. Then, without warning, he turns to look directly at us. No, not us. We are looking at him through the illusion spell. The one he is looking at is the one scrying for him. Lady Melelea.

“Break the connection!” I shout, but I am too late. With a snarl, the demon swipes a clawed hand and rends the images. Lady Melelea cries out in pain, and the illusion goes dark. The trolless slumps in her seat, her head lolled back, and blood trickling down her face, as if the demon’s claws struck her. Her eyes are closed and she’s still as death.

“Mother!” cries out King Rognar at the same time Queen Adalind calls, “Melelea!”

In an instant, I am out of my seat and grabbing the trolless in my arms. I place my ear against her chest and hear the faint thump of her heartbeat. “She’s alive! Get a healer!” I order. “Send them to Lady Melelea’s chambers. At once!”

Without waiting to see if anyone is obeying me, I move to carry the unconscious trolless to her rooms, followed by King Rognar and Queen Adalind, though I barely mark them. All my attention is focused on Lady Melelea. Grazrath attacked her somehow through the scrying. Her actions were dangerous, and we went in unprepared. She’ll never get hurt like that again.

Not if I have anything to say about it.