I Am Destiny - Beneath Ceaseless Skies
I’m drowning in my thoughts while I polish the broad front steps of Arlee citadel—laying down my daily deposit of Hearth magic with repetitive gestures and whispered chanting—when a woman in black at the head of a silent army levitates into Arlee, the seven thick gates in the town downhill crumbling open before her followers with seven muted explosions. My master’s soldiers, all war-magic adepts, come running and shouting; without even looking at them she lifts a hand, and the earth itself shivers and sends them flying in groaning heaps of breastplates and greaves and shattered blades.
Through my hearth connection I can feel the walls, the ground, even the roses writhing under the press of her strong magic. I slam my own walls closed as the breath leaves my throat, and I scramble inside the gate because it is clear that whoever she is, she plans to march right through it and confront the Duke. For once I’m glad I’m just a servant girl, even if I don’t have a father to match with the newt in my belly, which I clutch to stare up at her as she floats by. As if she feels my gaze she looks down, and the entire world stops for a moment.
She’s wearing my face.