Winged Dreams

Winged Dreams is a Shadow Sprawl historical setting story, by Terri Pray.

Artwork by Samuel Pray, created using Daz3D, Photoshop and FilterForge.

I can do this. He stood at the top of the pyramid, looking down over the expanse of sand. Odd, he couldn’t remember how he’d got there, or how long it had taken for him to climb the steps, the hundreds, if not thousands of steps that took him to the top of the pyramid. Nor could he recall the trip to the bottom of the tomb. He frowned, trying to work out the details, yet the fog refused to clear. Hot winds blasted their way across the sands, picking up dust and tossing it into the air before it lashed his skin. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, cloth tugged by the winds and he blinked, trying to clear his vision from the sting… that wasn’t there. Pieces refused to fall into place, his body was here, most of his mind remained, but the knowledge and the full force of the elements remained somehow distant.

Ra-N-Senb looked away, checking the bottom of the temple. He wasn’t alone. Men and women, small figures, moved along the sand. Some worked on a nearby structure, perhaps another tomb, perhaps something else but it wasn’t important. They weren’t the reason he was here.

Why am I here?

There was a reason, he knew there was…something moved through the air, wings outspread to catch the thermals. A bird, majestic, beautiful and dangerous, it caught the air, turning on a wing tip as it danced through the sky.

Hawk. One of the chosen of Horus.

His heart lept, joy searing through him as he leaned forward, stretching out his arms. Horus. Hawk. Chosen.

Be one with the sky.

He jumped, claiming the sky and…

“Husband,” a hand closed on his arm.

No, he didn’t want to wake, didn’t want to give up the sky, but he wasn’t flying. It hadn’t worked. He clawed at the air, trying to find a means of flying, but the air rejected him, throwing him down toward the ground. The stones. The people who were below him, rushing toward him, faster, harder, dangerous. He’d die… if he hit the ground, he’d die…

“Husband!” A sharper voice this time, the same voice though. “Wake, please you must wake!”

Yes, he had to…he blinked, opening his eyes, sweat coating his flesh, his hands clenched into the single sheet that had been tugged over his body. He groaned, scrubbing one hand over his face, trying to clear the salt and fear from his features. “A dream, nothing more than a dream.”

Weight shifted next to him, the small hand lifting from his arm. “It was more than a dream, there was something keeping you in the moment. You tossed and turned, you were lost in it, pulled into the moment and I couldn’t wake you. I tried, but you wouldn’t wake up. Not until I called you the sixth time.”

Six? He’d heard two, only two, it didn’t make sense. He sat up, blinking again before he finally turned his gaze on his wife. Is-Atius, his soul mate, partner in life and touched with the sight. Something they had hidden over the years lest she be claimed by a temple or worse, named a danger by Pharaoh or his family. Those sworn to Sekhmet might see her as a problem, there had been struggles between Horus and Sekhmet of late, at least her dreams suggested that such a thing was taking place, just as Bastet was said to have upset Sekhmet. Something about chosen ones, blessed, he shook his head at the thought and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

“Slow, my husband. You have been drained by the events of the dream.”

“I will heed your advice.” He smiled, catching the concern in her dark eyes. “Have I ever not listened to you?”

“There has been a time or two, beloved.” She smiled and stepped back from bed. “You will need food and water before you return to your work.”

Work. Yes, of course, work. He had so much to do in the coming months. His life had revolved around his small inventions and offerings to Horus in the last year. Ever since the first of the dreams had hit him. The sky dreams. “He is sending me the dreams.”

“Yes, husband. I know. He talks to me as well.” She inclined her head, her hands folded in front of her. “The priests would be upset if we spoke of such things and we must be careful lest our own people betray us.”

Slaves and servants, neither could be, at this time, trusted. Some would attempt to earn their freedom or rewards of other kinds by turning them in. They’d both seen such things happen before. Dangerous, especially with some of the punishments that could be handed out. He might die, but his wife might become a temple slave, her sight used and abused by one who sought power instead of true service to the gods. “I will be careful, as always dear one.” He reached out, touching her hands with a light finger. “I have far too much to lose.”

Is-Atius bowed her head in acknowledgment, the long braided lengths of her wig brushed against her shoulders, the thin linen clinging to her body, outlining her lithe form. Even after ten years of marriage her body still managed to awaken his desires. They had been unlucky so far, no children granted to them, but they would come in time. When the gods willed it and not before, he’d accepted that but his wife - driven by the needs shared by many women to present him with a child, continued to visit the temples and leave offerings in the hope that they would be blessed with a child, or two.

He settled at the table, pulling clean papyrus and ink toward him. He frowned at the ink, no that was too expensive to waste on this. He shook his head and changed it for a piece of charcoal, tapping it lightly on the table. What had the dream taught him? That he needed to be high up in order to catch the air. His arms would be outspread, but he didn’t have anything there to use. Wings, he needed something to simulate wings.

Ideas rolled through him, moving from his mind to the paper in the form of black markings that he scratched into life. He had to find the answer, to silence the dreams and the only way that would happen would be if he managed to find a design that would please Horus.

She gave him some time, letting him sink into his work before she followed with food and drink, she said nothing as she set the bowl and mug down, following her habit of not letting the servants or slaves enter the work room. Instead she moved silently, picking up a few things that had been knocked to the floor, scraps of papyrus and cloth that she placed on the table instead of doing what another woman might have done and throwing them away. He glanced up, looking out of the window, only then realizing that his wife was also lighting the oil lamps as she moved around the room.

“How long…no, never mind. You wouldn’t disturb me unless you believed I had pushed too long without something to eat or drink.” He sighed and pushed the drawings away.

“Husband, I did not mean to…”

Something shifted in the window, a movement that drew his attention. For a moment the light beyond made it difficult to see the clearly until it moved into the room, flying above their heads, wings outspread as it circled the room.

“Great Horus!” Is-Atius gasped, dropping to her knees, bowing her head as she did so.

Could it be the god himself? A messenger, his messenger. Ra-N-Senb moved to the floor beside his wife, his gaze fixed on the hawk.

The hawk hovered, something he was certain hawks could not do, and yet this one did. For a moment it didn’t move around the room but remained in place, its head tipping down slightly as if it were watching him. Then it changed, shimmering, the form enlarging, growing legs, arms a near human form save for the hawk head.

Ra-N-Senb dropped to his belly next to his wife, spreading out his arms along the floor. His wife assumed the same position, both of them with their foreheads pressed to the floor. His throat tightened, sweat coating his flesh as he prostrated himself. What had he done wrong that Horus might appear before them? Had his drawings, his plans, offended the god?

“My lord, most holy one, how may we serve you?” He forced the words into life. “Have we offended you?”

A rich, deep laugh rippled through the room. “Offended me, oh my children, no you have done nothing to offend me but I will admit to watching you both.”

Ra-N-Senb’s gut tightened. Watching him? Them? He didn’t look up, didn’t dare.

“Raise your heads, my children, I would see those I have chosen as mine own.”

Chosen? Terror dug its ice touched claws into his flesh but he obeyed and looked up without rising to his knees.

“There is no need to fear me, my child. I am your god but I am not your death. You will be raised above all men and women, you and your beloved wife shall be among those numbered as my true children.”

What was happening to them? A god in their home, calling them his? They weren’t sworn to a temple, had taken no oaths, and - in truth - lived in fear of what the priesthood would do if they ever found out about his drawings or his wife’s abilities. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his growing nerves.

“Most holy?” His wife’s voice filtered through his fears.

“Yes, my daughter.” Horus turned the full weight of his attention to the prostate woman. “Stand, child, I would look on you.”

Ra-N-Senb trembled. He should have stopped his wife, kept her silent. Now it might be too late. If she said the wrong thing she would die, be found lacking in some respect, and then the god would unleash his anger upon her.

Slowly, with a grace that had always been a part of her, Is-Atius rose, her head bowed as she stood before the god. “Most holy, I would ask, if it is not too impertinent, what have we been chosen to do for you?”

A soft, rich laugh echoed around the room. “I like your spirit my daughter. It will be vital in the days to come.” The hawk headed figure dipped his head before gesturing to Ra-N- Senb. “Stand my son, we have much to do.”

His heart sank but he obeyed. What could he do? Was there a way of protecting them both. Panic ruled for a moment and then it changed, a cool, controlled blanket of calm took over, soothing his tension, sweeping away the fears as he stood before Horus. “As you so desire, most holy.”

“Each of my brothers and sisters will be choosing children to bless. Bastet and Sekhmet have already chosen the first of their children, now it is my turn.”

Chosen, Horus had mentioned this several times though he wasn’t sure what it meant. There had been vague rumors, men and women touched by the gods, given something that marked them as apart from all others in the world but details had been lacking. “As you desire, most holy. But… we don’t understand what you mean by this. Not fully at least.” He inclined his head, knowing better than to look directly at the god.

There was something strange about all of this, not just the fact that Horus stood before them, but the way this was being explained. Could a god be nervous? He glanced at the god’s feet, a small shifting of weight, a flicker of wings that were little more than shadows behind Horus.

“Those chosen are marked, some with the ability to take other shapes, to use magic granted by my brothers and sisters, and this is what I would offer you.” He reached out his hands, almost but not quite touching them. “I knew those I claimed, those first ones, would need to be bound by love as well as their strength of will, imagination and courage. These are things that both of you are able to lay claim to. Your courage and love, the way you protect each other, these are things that are rare, far more so than you could imagine.” He paused, tipping his head to one side. “Or perhaps you can imagine such things.” He gestured to the desk, to the drawings. “Your need to fly was another aspect that drew me. I have watched your dreams, seen the desire in you to claim the skies when most would fear such things. With it, I would grant you the magic of the winds, enough to fill your wings and the sails on ships. Your children will learn how to use this and their children after them. I would give you this, grant you the skies in return for your loyalty. Your line will carry the ability until the end of time, but only if you are willing to accept the risks. All of the risk.”

“Risks, most holy?” Is-Atius pressed.

“For now my brethren rule. We are worshiped, protected, sacrificed to and sung about. That will not always be the way of things. There have been gods before us who have faded into the background, and there will be gods after us who will do the same thing, but your life, the lives of those who will follow, will carry our magic. You will grant us true immortality.”

All they had to do was take the offered gift.

He looked over at his wife, his beautiful, elegant wife, her eyes alight with the possibilities that were being offered to them. Hope, fear, courage, they all merged into one within her. She lifted one hand, taking his in a small, firm grip. If he’d had any doubts, they faded away in that moment. If his wife could face the darkness, then he would do the same thing.

“Is this your desire, beloved?” His wife turned her gaze to his, their hands joined. “If this is what you want, then I will gladly accept the offer before us. But I could never, would never, do it without you by my side.”

“And this is why I have chosen you, daughter. The love shared… Hawks mate for life, so must those who are marked by my gift.”

He wasn’t listening, not to Horus, though a part of him screamed that he should be. All that mattered in this moment was his wife. If they accepted this blessing, they would be bound together with abilities that would mark them and their…he blinked and turned back to Horus.

“Honored one, we have had no children, no sign of such a blessing.”

“I know this, and this is a small thing that my gift will change for you. You will have children, lots of children. Your offspring will never lack for children again.”

Hope surged into life as his wife squeezed his hand. “Children of our own, most holy?”

“Yes, it is the greatest gift I can give you.”

A soft sob broke from his wife’s lips as she half crumpled against Ra-N-Senb. “A child, one of our own. That… oh most holy, thank you. Thank you.” Sobs carried the words as soft shakes vibrated through her body.

How had he not known the pain his wife had endured at the lack of a child? He pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around him. This was neither the time, nor the place, to apologize to her. Such might weaken him in the eyes of Horus but he rubbed her back, murmuring wordlessly to his shaken wife.

“The idea pleases you, I see.” Horus inclined his head. “My sister suggested it might be the case.”

Sister? Which of the goddesses had told him such? That a god had failed to see the desire for children didn’t shock him. Had not he shut out the pain and focused on other things without looking to his wife? Had he hurt his beloved by his lack of discussion about children? He’d thought it safer, letting her believe that their marriage was all that mattered, not the bringing of children into the world. Yet, now that he was faced with the chance to father children, he couldn’t help but rejoice.

“Children, beloved. We will have children.” He smoothed one hand over her hair and then pushed her back so he could meet her gaze. “I never thought of the pain that the lack of a child must be causing you. For that, forgive me.” All thoughts of keeping his mistake to himself had vanished the moment he saw the joy in his wife’s eyes. “Please, forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

He turned, still holding his wife against him. “Most Holy, if it pleases you, we would accept your mark.” Why the god hadn’t forced it upon them he didn’t ask, didn’t dare, not with everything that was being offered to them. Perhaps it was a matter of spirit, or the magic involved wouldn’t work if it wasn’t welcomed, accepted freely? He wasn’t a god nor was he a priest, such answers were - at this time - beyond him.

“Good, good.” Horus spread his hands. “There is time, yes… time. You will need to stretch your wings before the night draws in.” The god mused, his head tipped in thought as he lowered his hands once more. “The roof would be a better place for this. So, we go… yes?” Energy rippled around Horus, a flicker of movement as the room faded out of existence around them. Reality shifted, the room replaced by the roof, complete with the heat winds that swept over the city. “Yes, this will work.” The god nodded and looked over the city.

Endless buildings stretched out in front of them, temples and the palace in the distance along with the play of water that was the Nile. They were far enough away from the river to be safe if the river rose above it’s normal flooding levels, but that also put them too far from the palace to be classed as those close to the royal family. Something they had both been grateful for, as it kept them away from the prying eyes of the priests - most of the time.

He took a deep breath, rolling out his shoulders as he helped his wife stand fully before Horus and only then did he look up. The sky was near cloudless with only a handful of white wisps in the distance. Noise rose from the city now that he was more aware of his location. Merchants called out, men and women stopped to talk, children played, slaves worked, and animals added their own music. He only caught glimpses of the sources of that noise, but he new if he stepped to the edge of the roof he would be able to see far more, but what if they were seen?

What did it matter? Many people spent time on the roof of their home, especially during the evening. There were times when the heat rose to a point that the only place you may find a little relief from it through the night was to unroll a bed mat or even a simple reed mat, and sleep on the roof. He’d done that a time or two before, slept under the stars with his wife in his arms.

Once the power was theirs, would they ever again feel the need to sleep on the roof? Or would the roof become nothing more than a place to launch themselves into the air.

“Most holy, what of those around us? Will they see our gift from you and seek to do us harm?” His wife’s trembling voice cut through his thoughts.

“Perhaps, my daughter. I do not pretend to understands all the thoughts of mortal kind, or how they react to change.” The hawked headed god moved toward them, touching them on the shoulder. “It is time. I will see you through this first change, focus on what I do, on the magic in your body and it will become easy for you to shift into the new forms.”

Ra-N-Senb took hold of his wife’s hand again as the god moved them, separating them out.

“No, you must not touch when the magic hits you this time. Even if the future, changing when you are touching another will be harder. Keep apart until you have learned how to complete the change with little or no thought.”

Is-Atius let go of her husband’s hand. “We understand and will obey, most holy.”

“Close your eyes and let the wind caress your body.” Horus began, his voice slipping into a soft, welcoming tone. “Stretch out your hands and part your fingers, feel the play of the breeze over your skin and lift your head to the sky, tipping your chin up.”

He obeyed, closing his eyes and shutting out everything but Horus and his instructions at first. The breeze touched his skin, teasing the short hairs along the backs of his hands and arms. Each hair lifted and lowered at the command of the wind. He frowned, sinking into the sensation. Why had he not realized how sensual the caress of the wind could be?

“See the wings, hawk’s wings, banded in gold. For you will share my markings - not the markings of every day hawks.”

He listened as he saw, in his minds eye, wings taking the place of his arms, feathers replacing fingers. His body shifted, clothing falling to the floor as he let the warmth, the magic wash over him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to see it, didn’t fight the magic, instead he accepted it, embraced it and rejoiced in the power that now claimed him. He inhaled, shivering with the change.

“You are almost there, a moment longer. Feel the claws, your legs changing, the shape of beak and head. Let the final part of the shift move through you.”

He obeyed, shuddering as it happened.

A cry of joy screamed free from his lips, except he didn’t have lips anymore. A beak, sharp, ready to rend and tear into the flesh of his prey.

“Open your eyes and fly my children. Spread your wings, taste the air and ride the winds.”

Ra-N-Senb obeyed, launching himself into the air along side of his wife. Two hawks, beautiful, dangerous, banded with gold, took to the sky side by side. Wind caught beneath his wings even as he moved through the air with his wife. His dreams, they had been nothing compared to the reality of flight. Nothing could stop him, stop them, not now they were chosen. His wife, their children, they would all know the power of the sky, of the wind and of flight in the service of Horus.

What more could he want in life…

Threads

“This is a waste of time, they won’t see us and they have no reason to help us,” Brandon scowled and cast an angry look at the entrance to the temple. “This nonsense of threads and tapestry, you know it’s not real don’t you? All foolishness from the time before.”

Penolina closed her eyes, struggling to bring her emotions under control. They’d already been through this argument, several times if the truth be told, yet here they were again thanks to the words he’d heard time and again from their uncle. “They will. They have to. It’s part of the old laws and since the Raiders were thrown out of the system, the old laws are now adhered to once more.” Old laws, they had both been born after the Raiders had taken control. Now, with the Queen back in place on Chronos, the temples were open again, the laws back in place and they had a place to take their problems. “Everything changed when we regained control of our world. The Queen…”

“Is on Chronos.”

“Yes, but she brought back the old ways.” With a few minor tweaks but they were still, according to many she’d spoken with, in the spirit of the laws that had governed their world before the invasion. “Those laws give us a chance to seek help, something he has no right to deny us.” Though he had tried his best.

“It won’t help. He’ll have been here and spoken against us. I mean, we’re kids and…”

“We won’t be soon, which is why we need to speak out now.” Within two months she would be of age, and he would follow suit within fifteen months. “Once we’re eighteen we have the right to see to our own holdings. The temple is the only hope we have without going to the capitol and you know he’ll never release enough money to allow us to travel that far.” She nodded at the white stone building with its heavy black doors. “He wouldn’t think that we know about this option. Why would he? It’s only recently that such information has been taught in the schools again.” Schools they had been pulled from not long after the Raiders had left. An attempt to keep them ignorant of the changes that were occurring all around them?

What else could it have been?

The man was intelligent, she’d never denied that, but his motives… she shuddered at the thought.

“Fine, but when they laugh at us don’t expect me to take it well, sister mine.” Brandon grumbled and ran a hand through his sandy hair. “It will only be worse when we return home and Uncle Jacob is waiting for us.”

“They won’t laugh.” Please let me be right, please goddess let your servants listen to us and aid us. Was it a formal prayer? She didn’t know, that knowledge had also been denied them. What little she’d been able to find out had been through quick talks with older men and women and stolen knowledge from other sources. Even the servants at home were wary about sharing information with them, knowing if they were caught then they would be out of work.

It would have been, she believed, different in the capitol. Here the families, and through them the heads of families, held sway over the small communities. If you were let go from service to a family, without a reference, the odds of finding decent work without moving away from the area, were slim at best. It was a harsh, cruel way of existing, one that Penolina had never agreed with.

She grasped her brother’s hand and smiled. He was taller than she was, and hadn’t yet reached his full height, yet he would always be her little brother. “We can do this, have faith in yourself, in us. We’re stronger together than he has ever been willing to accept and that is to our advantage.”

He looked down at their linked hands even as his shoulders slumped. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

He didn’t believe her, didn’t want to have faith in what they were about to do and she knew why. If it didn’t work, if they were turned away or worse, reported to their uncle, then their lives would become a living nightmare. He would separate them as a means of punishment, keep them apart until they were adults, but then what?

As adults he couldn’t control them, not in the same way, unless they failed to grasp their power and make use of it before he found a way to strip it from them. Any attempts that Brandon had, quietly, made to find out more about the changes ahead of them, had been met with subtle dismissals and changes in topic. She, of course, hadn’t approached Jacob directly. Her careful probing questions from those who had been in service with the family since before the invasion, had revealed just how little the siblings had been taught about their rights.

It was one thing to have rights and protections, it was another to know they existed so you could actually use them - and Jacob had taken steps from the very beginning to prevent them from learning about their family, the history of their holdings and then the return of the old laws of inheritance.

He will have us signed into service somewhere. Maybe the temple for me, and military service for Brandon? No, not the temple, but a marriage I want nothing to do with? What will happen when I fight such a marriage? Will he kill me or find another way to silence me? Could he simply kill me off and be done with me?

No, he didn’t have that power anymore. Not with the change in laws, but did he know that? More importantly, did he accept it?

Yes, of course he knew and refused to accept the change in laws. His true power rested in the understanding that the siblings remained ignorant.

They paused at the base of the steps. For years the white stone had been left untended, those in service to the temple had kept to the shadows knowing that their lives were in danger if they made themselves known. The stories of the invasion were still a part of living memory for many, and she recalled more than one priest or priestess dragged out of hiding to face punishment.

Death.

She shuddered at the memory of the one execution she had been forced to witness. A middle-aged man with wild hair and sorrow filled eyes. He’d screamed, oh by the gods how he’d screamed. It hadn’t been a quick death, no such mercy had been granted him and she, like all of the others commanded to stand through the event, had heard every blow, each cry and the final announcement that life had been extinguished.

How many others had died in other communities and cities around the planet? Had the same horrible fates befallen those of the Orders on the other four homeworlds? Chronos, she knew from stories, had suffered terribly beneath the yoke of the Raiders. Gaea and Thanatos had survived but it had not been an easy thing. Mars had fought, every step of the way, but they were a warrior people born and raised. The Raiders had controlled the system but Mars, out of all of them, had defied them.

A small door, within the left hand side of the large double doors, opened before they reached it and a man in a white robe stepped out into view. The cowl covered his features in shadows, his hands hidden within the sleeves but somehow she knew he was looking at them, observing their approach in silent patience.

“We could turn away, no one would say a word about it.” Brandon leaned in, his voice a low whisper.

“No, we’re going to do this.” She tightened her grasp on his hand.

“But…”

“Welcome, enter and ask, we are here to help those who serve our Lady of Fate. She of the spinning wheel, loom and shears.” The priest stepped aside, lifting his right hand to bid them enter. “All are welcome here as long as they enter in peace and respect our Lady.” His voice was calm, warm and welcoming, not at all what she thought a priest would sound like.

He’s a man, just like any other man.

Young, by the sound of the voice, or at least not old. His face was still hidden by the cowl but his hand lacked the wrinkles that might come with age, nor did she see any sign of liver spots. Not that age mattered, but there was something about his voice that pulled at her.

“Thank you,” she murmured and glanced back at her brother. “We’ll be safe here, I promise you that. They won’t hurt us.” Let him believe me.  If he didn’t, she’d find a way to calm him down, but if she was wrong about the situation, about how they would be treated, then - well, she didn’t know what she would do.

“Your sister is right, young lord. You are most welcome here and you will be safe among us.” The priest followed them into the temple, pulling the door closed behind them.

Darkness consumed them and her heart skipped a beat in the moment before a dozen soft lights flickered into life ahead of them. She blinked adjusting to the change in illumination, thankful for the gentle glow offered by the candles. Few places used candles or lamps these days, why would they need to when power was so easy to use. Yet the temple was old, predating the time of power lines. Now, of course, technology kept most things hidden out of the way, but with buildings like the temple would it be easy to lay the lines needed to bring the power into the building?

“We use the older methods out of respect to those who built the temple, though there are small modern lights offered in some of the offices. Those are, of course, seldom used. We keep them only for visitors who would be ill at ease with candles or oil lamps.”

She frowned at the words, trying to think of who might have a problem with candles. Perhaps those who were unable to move without assistance? The lack of light might make it difficult to see where they could put their feet, or use their mobility devices. She nibbled on the inside of her lip as they followed the priest further into the temple.

“We are here for…”

“Wait, you will be able to explain once the senior priestess is able to speak with you.” The man looked back over his shoulder, his smile warm and genuine. “She may, of course, already know what the issue is and have answers waiting for you.”

She swallowed hard and looked away. Of course, she should have remembered that from the little she had read about the temple.

“How could she know?” Brandon pressed.

“Because she is the priestess. Our Lady Fate may have shared that information with her, it happens from time to time.” The priest shrugged. “I am, I’m afraid, still in the middle stages of my training so it will be some time before such information may be shared with me.”

May? “Thank you, we - we’ve not been well taught about the functions of the temple or the way you serve.” Penolina admitted and squeezed her brother’s hand.

“That, sadly, is not uncommon, though we are working with the schools once more and our doors are open to all who might seek answers.” The priest stopped by a simple door and looked back at them. “Are you ready?”

Brandon tugged on her hand. “We should leave.”

“No, we shouldn’t. He will know we have come here. If we leave we place ourselves back in his grasp and you know he will have no mercy to show us.” Brandon would be safer than she would be as their uncle had fallen under the sway of the raiders. At least that was the impression she had gained in meeting and talking with others of their age range in the past six months.

“He won’t hurt…” Brandon’s words trailed off. “He would - wouldn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Brandon pulled his hand free. “No, I don’t want to hear that, don’t want to believe it.”

It didn’t matter what her brother wanted, the truth was undeniable. He’d been sheltered, in many ways, but she hadn’t. Their uncle had embraced the Raider’s beliefs of women being secondary, lesser and not worthy of succession, rights or even a say in their own lives. That had been one of the reasons they had attacked the temples. Women had equal power within the temples…

“She will see you now.” The Priest smiled and opened a heavy wooden door.

“Thank you,” she couldn’t trust their uncle the way Brandon wanted to.

“Penolina, you can’t be serious about this.”

She didn’t stop, didn’t look back at him as she walked into the room.

“Pen!”

He’d either follow her or he wouldn’t, it no longer mattered.

“Welcome,” a warm female voice greeted her. “Please, be seated. I welcome all here, especially those who need answers.”

Penolina’s gaze narrowed. The woman was small, slight, almost child like in size and build. She stood in front of a large fireplace, with a merry blaze crackling behind her. Her hands showed no sign of age, but were smooth and clear. Her voice hinted at youth but the cowl hid her features. This was no woman who had served for the years she assumed would be required in order to attain such a rank. How could this be the priestess?

“Do not be fooled, child. I’m far older than I look,” she gestured to the chairs. “You and your brother should sit, we will be a while, I think.”

Her brother? She glanced over her shoulder. Brandon stood awkwardly in the doorway, heat flushing across his cheeks. Fine, at least he’d made up his mind. Without a word she sat down, waiting for Brandon to follow suit and claim one of the other chairs. He did so, but only after scuffing one foot on the floor and slumping down into the chair near her.

“The Lady warned me that you would be coming and the matter is a troubling one.” The Priestess stepped away from the fire and settled into a large, well padded chair on the other side of the fire. “Penolina and Brandon Usher, only children of Lord Fion Usher and Lady Helena Usher. Currently under the care and guardianship of Jacob Usher, younger brother of Fion.”

Penolina gripped the arms of the chair. “How did… did someone warn you that…”

“As I said, the Lady told me that you would come. She has spoken, in length, of your problems and the turns that life has presented you, just as she is aware of the plans your uncle has for you.” The woman pushed back the cowl and met Penolina’s gaze. “You were brave to come here, knowing that he has you followed, but the Lady blocked his spy this time and has kept the man busy. That will allow us to speak without rushing, to explore the options and prepare you for the choices ahead.”

Penolina closed her eyes, trying to find a moment to bring her thoughts back into some form of order. The woman knew too much and it only made sense if she did, indeed, have a connection with the Goddess, but doubt clouded her mind. What if this was nothing more than a game begun by their uncle? Had he reached out to the temple in case the siblings sought assistance here? No, that wasn’t the sort of thing she’d have expected from him yet he had proven to be duplicitous in the past.

“You expect me to believe a deity told you all of this?” Brandon exclaimed.

“No, I don’t expect you to believe, I simply refuse to pretend that I learned this information any other way.” The priestess sighed.

Had she been faced with such statements before? After the way things had changed during the occupation it would make sense that people would question those serving the Gods. “Please, we do not mean to offend, Lady. There is much we have to learn that has been hidden from us. The invasion tried to destroy our heritage and we were born and raised after the invasion.”

“You are as new born babes in all of this.” The woman agreed. “I take no offense at your words. I simply ask that you both listen with open hearts before you make a decision.”

That they could both do, though Penolina knew she would have to guide Brandon in this. Out of the pair, he was the more hot headed, having been given far more leeway in his behavior and choices. “We will try, Lady.”

“I ask for nothing more than that.” The woman nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Brandon, it will be harder on you in the days and weeks to come. You will have to come to terms with the changes that the return of the Queen has triggered. The rights of women have returned and there are those who fight it, who wish to keep their ties with those of Ontour, but that is not how we were before the invasion and not how we should be going forth.”

Brandon began a protest but Penolina reached over, took his hand and squeezed.

“No, let him speak, child. He is entitled to his words just as you are.” The priestess chided.

Brandon snorted. “This is ridiculous. You can’t expect me to take you seriously.” He rose and paced away from the chair. “Either our uncle has contacted you or someone working against him. With your words about women having a voice, and how that goes against everything he believes in, I’d say it was one of his rivals who has put you up to this.” He stalked away to the door only to return again. “Yes, the stories tell us that before the invasion things were different, but no one would have believed the words of a mystic.”

“Then why were we forced to witness the execution of a Priest?” Penolina struggled to keep her emotions under control. Didn’t he see what was happening here?

“That was a means of controlling the people. Uncle Jacob explained it to me. There had been attempts to overthrow the rightful rule of the Ontourians and…”

“Are you listening to yourself?” She turned to face her brother, taking a deep breath before she continued. “Rightful rule? It was either an invasion or it was legal. It can’t be both, brother.”

He paled and shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m just - I’m too young to know everything that led up to the invasion, even Uncle Jacob said that. He told me I’d understand soon enough.”

“And in the meantime you were to listen to him, let him lead the family and keep me in line before I made the mistakes of my gender and believed myself equal to men. Is that it?” Oh, she knew the words. She’d been hearing variations of them for years now. “Things are much better here since they all left. Even you have to see that. There’s more food. People have returned from the camps - not all, because some died there.” Or had been executed but Jacob had denied such things had happened.

“Very few died, only those too sick to save. Many left with the Ontourians, seeking a better life away from the system. They saw the troubles that would return when the Queen reclaimed her throne and…” he paused, frowning. “There haven’t been that many problems, have there?”

Relief washed over Penolina “No, dear one. There haven’t been. Those who supported the invasion have been the only real cause of trouble.” Did he see it or had he just stumbled over reasoning. “There’s so much that’s going on right now as our world, our system struggles to regain its path. People died, went missing, knowledge was denied to us as were the priests.” She nodded toward the Priestess. “The lady here will have spent time hiding as so many of those sworn to the temple did.”

“We fled but remained close where we could,” the woman confirmed, her voice tired and sorrow filled. “Then there were the servants of the temple. They were persecuted as well, hunted down as a means of tracking the priesthood down. Their families were removed from their homes, used as a means of pressurizing the servants and we lost so many of our number. Too many to count yet as the numbers are still being gathered.”

Brandon paled and sat down, the chair shifting as he dropped his weight into its confines. “I didn’t know.”

“Few do.”

Silence claimed the room, giving them time to think. Wood crackled in the fire and soft sounds filtered past the walls but no one spoke.

“Your uncle wishes to keep your property, and thinks to use Brandon as a means to form a new bond with the Ontourians. He’s of age to enter their training program and he has the means to get him off world.” The woman explained. “His plans for you, little sister, are far worse. He had thought to wed you into a family that shared his leanings, but has found a means of disposing of you. He pushes to have you committed into the hands of less than ethical doctors, to have your mind stripped so he can continue to hold sway over the family. This will leave your body intact, fit for breeding - which he plans on using his own seed - but your mind reduced to that of a child so you cannot speak against him.”

Horror sliced through Penolina with a cold blade. Her stomach clenched, body tightened and throat closed. She brought her hands up to her face, covering it as she shuddered. No matter what she thought of her uncle, she’d never once thought he would debate taking such cruel and evil steps. To be stripped of her mind, of her ability to fight back, that was worse than any prison she could think of. Death would be a kinder fate.

“How can such a thing be legal?” Brandon, his voice a ghost of its normal youthful energy.

“It is not, but there are those who remain who have kept up some of the practices encouraged by the Ontourians. Though such mind stripping was rare even when they were here, it was used as a punishment or as a means of controlling a family and the lands they laid claim to without killing off the line and leaving it in chaos.” The priestess explained, her voice oddly calm. “This doesn’t mean that you will meekly accept the fates he has planned out for either of you.”

Penolina lowered her hands, still shuddering as she blinked away shocked tears and met the steady gaze of the older woman. “What can we do?”

“You have entered the temple, which places you under my protection.”

“I knew it, this is just another way of taking what is ours.” Brandon snapped and jumped out of the chair.

I swear, he does that once more and I’ll tie him down! She scowled at her brother. “Sit down. You’re being foolish. The priestess would never do such a thing, nor would we allow it.”

He frowned and looked back and forth between his sister and the priestess. “Then why bring it up?”

“Because you are safe here, and cannot be removed from the temple by force. That, at least, is something we have managed to reestablish since the departure of our unwanted guests.”

That was one way of describing the Ontourians.

“So, we can stay here but what good will that do us?” Penolina forced her voice to remain calm. She didn’t want to be trapped in the temple though she would be safer here than she would be if they returned to their Uncle’s house.

“You stay here until the authorities send someone, but you would have to send a request for assistance to the capitol.”

Brandon groaned. “If we had the ability to do that, we wouldn’t have come here. I don’t even know whom to contact!”

“No, but I do and I have the means. The temple, like all temples, has a communications room. We kept our equipment hidden during the invasion but they were returned to the temples when the invaders fled.” The priestess smiled. “Sometimes the power of the Lady comes not from foretelling and the tweaking of threads, but by the placing of options before an open mind, which I know your sister lays claim to. It is not all mystical words and powerful predictions, but the offering of knowledge and help with the first step.”

Communication. A computer terminal, or something older, it didn’t matter as long as it worked. For the first time true hope flowered and the weight of the walls their uncle had built around them, began to ease. “It’s that simple? A call to an office?”

“Simple yes, but it will also not be quick. It might take hours, or even a day before…”

“Only a day?” She blinked and squeezed Brandon’s hand. “That’s nothing, lady. Not after all we’ve been through.” A day, a single day within the temple and then it would be over.

Brandon swallowed hard and for the first time her younger brother let down the walls. Tears slipped down his cheeks, though he scuffed them from his face. “It will be over. We will be free…”

“Should you wish it.” The priestess bowed her head. “All I can do is lay out the option, the choice to take it is always within your hands.”

A call, a message, then at most a day of waiting within the walls of the temple and then they would be free to choose their own path, to spin their own threads for the great tapestry under the care of the Lady of Fate.