286: Of Rebels and Kings (Part One) (Maiya) (Patreon)

EDIT NOTE: I've made some changes to the Silent One's conversations with Maiya. The largest salient changes are in chapter 275 where the Silent One talks to Maiya after her raid ( the last third of the chapter). If you'd like to reread that, the link to that chapter is here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/96754434

The summary is that he no longer wishes for Maiya to kill him, but rather swears the opposite - that he'll fight her to the last. I felt that his behavior just wasn't in character for him. Apologies for any confusion!

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Riyan had once said that to Vir the passage of time heals all wounds. For Maiya, it seemed to be that the opposite was far truer. Each passing day brought with it mounting anxiety, and it certainly wasn’t helped by the predicament she was in the midst of dealing with.

“We wish for you to kill the Blessed Chosen,” the woman seated across from Maiya said. Dressed in an unassuming robe, the middle-aged leader of the Sisters of Gray had somehow wrangled a one-on-one session with Maiya, guard-free. That one act alone spoke volumes about her power, even if her bland appearance didn’t.

“Why?” Maiya asked. Not you, too? She thought.

It felt like everyone and their mother wanted the Blessed Chosen dead, and Maiya couldn’t help but wonder if there really was some mysterious force at work, guiding events with an invisible hand.

“The Blessed Chosen and the Sisters… Suffice it to say that we do not see eye to eye,” the Sister said. “The Chosen is something of an autocrat. During his tenure, he has systematically gutted the Sisters’ power. Would you believe the Sisters were once equal in power to the Chosen himself?”

Maiya raised a brow. That was indeed a surprise. She’d simply assumed it’d always been this way.

“And now that a woman is the Blessed Prophet, you see a chance to put someone sympathetic on the throne,” Maiya said. Though it wasn’t real sovereignty, for all intents and purposes, the Blessed Chosen was a monarch. The undisputed ruler of the Children.

“You’re a smart one, Maiya,” the woman said. “You no doubt see this as a play to install a puppet Chosen the Sisters can control. I assure you, this is nothing of the sort. Rather, quite the opposite.”

“Oh?” That was exactly what Maiya had assumed it was. What better strategy than for the Sisters to regain that control they had lost?

“For you see, should you assume the mantle of Blessed Chosen, I will relinquish leadership of the Sisters. To you.”

Maiya remained silent. Ira would be ecstatic. To not only become Blessed Chosen, but to gain control of the most prominent opposition faction within the organization? She’d have the Children dancing in the palms of her hands!

Which only made her leerier.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Maiya asked.

The woman across her—whose name Maiya still didn’t know—smiled knowingly.

“Do you understand how rare it is for a Blessed Chosen candidate to be even partially rational? Our current leader is an exception among exceptions. When he assumed the mantle, we’d hoped to have a healthy partnership for once, but alas… such is not to be. With you, however? With you at the helm, our organization will thrive. Perhaps together, we can restore some semblance of sanity to the cult.”

Good luck with that, Maiya thought, fully aware of the irony. She was attempting to do exactly that, after all.

“What makes you think I can take him down?” Maiya asked.

“‘Tis no secret the Chosen is enamored with you,” the woman said. “I am certain someone with your… impressive capabilities should have no issues.”

Was that a threat? Maiya wondered. Did the Sisters know of her involvement with Kin’jal, like the Chosen did?

She shook off the thought. Maiya’s identity was simply too strong a hand not to play. If the Sisters knew, they’d have brought it up. Besides, neither Maiya nor Ira had made any mistakes. No, the most the Sisters knew was that she was a strong mejai.

The only reason the Blessed Chosen knew of her involvement was because of his unique ability to sense the locations of all Children of Ash, and she highly doubted he’d have told them. Even if he had, they’d suspect anything he had to say, given their poor relationship.

Trying to understand that man’s actions made Maiya’s head hurt.

“I’ll consider it,” Maiya said. “I’d like to maintain a line of communication until then.”

The woman nodded. “I am sure something can be arranged.”

Well, it’s not nothing, Maiya thought bitterly as the Sister rose to leave. The door opened, and Maiya was led back to her room. Under guard. Heavy guard.

— —

That was ten days ago.

While Maiya wanted to meet with Princess Ira right away, the Blessed Chosen hadn’t seen fit to grant her that kindness. Maiya was, for all intents and purposes, under house arrest.

The Children didn’t see it that way, of course. Under the guise of recognizing Maiya’s right of succession, the Blessed Chosen had assigned her no less than a dozen cultists who stuck with her at all times like glue.

The guards even accompanied her within her own bedchambers—at the Blessed Chosen’s command, of course. As much as the Children revered her, they downright worshiped the Blessed Chosen. His word was as good as the word of their god, and no amount of effort had convinced them otherwise—Sisters of Gray excepted.

Which meant the secret passages in Maiya’s room were unusable, unless she was willing to burn all of her hard work… and her imminent ascension to Blessed Chosen. As much as she loathed the cult, and as much as she wanted to return home, Maiya wasn’t willing to throw that away.

She cast her gaze on the spot where murder had been committed.

The handmaiden’s body had been removed by a pair of the Chosen’s personal guard. No questions were asked, and Maiya had no clue where they’d taken the poor girl’s corpse. She somehow doubted they’d given her the hero’s funeral she deserved, though.

Maiya caught herself grinding her teeth again. A recent habit, though what else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t leave the room except to use the facilities, and even then her guards followed her most of the way there.

All while chaos could be brewing and kingdoms falling outside… Argh!

Not that she’d done nothing. While her guards were the Chosen’s elite cadre, those who brought her food—namely, agents of the Sisters of Gray—were not.

There was little that Maiya could sneak by the watchful eyes of her captors, but she was nothing if not resourceful.

Scratching messages into the bottom of the soft clay plates as she ate, reading the paper hidden beneath her food—paper that contained secret messages… These were her tools, and she utilized them to their fullest. The only difficult bit was eating those pieces of paper after. Hardly a pleasant experience, but it did eliminate any evidence.

Through these limited means, she’d devised a plan to break herself out. There was just one problem. The plan should have been executed days ago. The messages had suddenly ceased, and Maiya found herself in the dark, fearing the worst.

Maiya clutched her hair as she paced around her bedchambers. If the Sisters had been compromised, she’d have precious few options available.

Her guards watched her circle the room with the eyes of a hawk, though if they thought her behavior strange, they showed no hint of it. They were likely used to far more unpredictable behavior from their less-than-sane charges.

It was in the middle of one of her pacing sessions that the door to her bedchambers opened.

Maiya would’ve paid it no mind, were it not for two things. For one, the unusual timing. Her guards switched every four hours. On the dot. They hadn’t tried to hide that from her—the hourglass sat prominently on one of the tables.

It was still half full.

For the other—this wasn’t the slow, deliberate opening of the heavy stone door. No, it was panicked and rushed.

A figure darted into the room. “The Blessed Chosen is in danger. He commands your help!” he shouted. Then he was gone, rushing off into the hall. Maiya barely had time to notice that he wore the same crimson garb as the Blessed Chosen’s personal guard. That, and his face, which looked oddly familiar.

Her guards gave each other a look, then looked at Maiya. Their hesitation was obvious, but then a half-dozen additional guards—regular cultists, in this case—flooded into the room, taking up positions around the perimeter.

“We have been assigned as your replacement,” one of them said.

This seemed to be the final straw. The Blessed Chosen’s guards nodded their acknowledgment and filed out of the room, leaving only her new guards behind.

Maiya didn’t know what to make of the situation, so she readied herself for anything. Had her contacts finally come through? Or was the Blessed Chosen really in danger? Or was this, perhaps, yet another of the Chosen’s stratagems to have her killed?

“Your presence is requested,” one of her new guards announced curtly. “We shall escort your Eminence.”

Maiya turned to her new captor, and to her shock, found a most familiar face.

“Camas?” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“Your presence has been requested,” Camas replied flatly. “Please do not resist.”

His tone left no room for debate, and soon, allowed them to march her out of her room. She’d taken Camas down once before and could easily do so again, but once more, the importance of maintaining her cover barred her from overt violence. She’d have to handle this as delicately as possible.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, fully expecting silence as her answer. It was silence she received—her guards may as well have been as mute as the Silent One.

She felt a sudden pang of nostalgia for her old friends… Until her guards led her into a room, quickly sealing the door behind them.

Then, nostalgia turned into confusion.

Waiting for her, and dressed in the Blessed Chosen’s personal guard armor, was none other than Yamal himself. “Quickly,” he said. “Put these on.”

Maiya recognized the clothing. It was the unassuming robe she’d worn countless times on missions for Princess Ira. Worn when she was trying to stay hidden.

“Where did you get this?” Maiya asked.

“From us.” The voice came from a tall man who stood beside Yamal. From his ramrod-straight parade rest to his chiseled jaw and powerful frame, he looked like a fish out of water.

Maiya whirled, her eyes narrowing. “You’re Balarian Guard.”

“Balarian Royal Guard,” he corrected.

No… Grakking… Way.

“I’d tell you just how special this operation is, though it appears you already know.”

Maiya nodded vigorously. The Balarian Royal Guard could only be commanded by Kin’jal royalty directly, and they rarely ever left the royal family’s side. If one was here, it meant Ira had gone to mind-boggling lengths to have Maiya rescued.

And even greater lengths to keep the details secret, Maiya thought. What price the Princess had paid for this, Maiya couldn’t even begin to imagine. That worried her. And yet, for the princess to have done all this just for her made Maiya’s chest warm with pride.

What’s more, this operation represented a joint venture between Ira, the Sisters, and, Maiya’s own cadre, which now included Camas’ gang, Yamal, and a handful of others.

So that Sister had known…

Riyan’s rebellion, the Blessed Chosen’s revelations, the Sisters working with Kin’jal… There were so many moving pieces it made her head spin.

“Lead the way,” Maiya said exhaustedly, ready to be done with her prison at last.