Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Eighty-Nine: Revelations

Amelia’s hazy mind slowly exited its dreamlike state to the sound of music. Someone was playing a violin or something similar, somewhere on the ship. The notes were muffled, even for her enhanced hearing. She wasn’t sure, but someone with a gentle voice might be singing along in a strange language. The more lucid she became, the quieter the music sounded. Eventually, its soothing notes were hidden from her ears, as if it only wanted to be heard in her dreams.

Amelia yawned, reaching out with her arm to find the space next to her empty. Moving her perception to her aetherflow, she placed Serena on the bridge. Her girlfriend must have woken up earlier and let Amelia sleep in.

Amelia shifted her weight to Serena’s side. While not even the slightest trace of warmth remained, the fragrance of her girlfriend persisted. Amelia twitched her nose, burrowing her face into the cotton and relaxing as she smelled Serena’s scent.

She wasn’t being weird, right? It was Serena’s fault for smelling so ridiculously good all the time. Honestly! Amelia suspected Serena must be releasing pheromones that Amelia was genetically predisposed to liking, or something to that effect. Why else would she be behaving like a drug addict who needed their next Serena-fix?

Alright, maybe she was being a little weird.

Instead of healing herself, Amelia let her brain naturally wake up. She let the hustle and bustle of the ship’s crew and the rhythmic thumping of the ship’s engines bring her into a new day. 

Before getting up, she took some time to ruminate on her thoughts.

So much had happened, and now that they had finally left Asamaywa, Amelia felt she could finally process everything. Most important was the knowledge Amelia gained from conversing with the person who called themselves Katalin of Driss.

Amelia was a shardbearer. It was the source of all her power and all the misfortune in her previous life. Whoever or whatever soul the Vengeance protected had once splintered into shards, one of which had somehow bonded with Amelia’s soul. The event had cursed her to a painful life as her body failed to adjust to its powers in a world without aether.

It wasn’t all negative. Shards attracted shards, and because of that, Amelia’s soul had been drawn to this realm of demons and magic, right into the quarters of her favourite demon captain! It was a strange feeling to know the thing that had caused her years of suffering was also responsible for causing so much happiness in her new life. If she were ever separated from Serena, could she endure all the pain again to reunite with her girlfriend?

Yes, she could—a thousand times, yes.

For a moment, Amelia had been worried that her soul was more than just hers. She’d been concerned that elements of her personality had been artificially changed due to the shard attaching itself to her. However, the more time she spent introspecting and feeling the sensation of her soul and looking at its beautiful shine in the Shimmer, the more Amelia became convinced that it wasn’t true. 

She wasn’t exactly sure how, but she knew her soul wasn’t a hodge-podged mash-up of part Amelia and part whatever else. It was a single, unified, homogenous soul. Whatever power Amelia had absorbed, it had melded into her soul and become hers.

Amelia was, after all, Amelia. Nothing more, nothing less!

Feeling a lot better, Amelia stretched, giving her best impression of Poro the peeka. Although she didn’t have two tails, she could give him a run for his money regarding cuteness.

“Morning, Anathor!” she called out cheerfully.

“Good afternoon, Lady Thornheart,” came the grumbled reply from the next room.

“Afternoon?” Amelia sat up, habitually rubbing her eyes. She popped off the bed and, with a quick invocation of magic, her clothes and body were perfectly cleaned. “What time is it, Anathor?” she asked, walking into Serena’s office and facing the red-eyed moose.

“It’s one o’clock,” Anathor said. “The ship is in a good mood, and we are blessed with clear skies and good winds. We’ve made good distance and are currently skirting the western edge of Kraken Kur. Ah, one moment, Lady Thornheart. I’m needed on the bridge…”

One o’clock! She’d overslept far more than she thought!

While Anathor’s attention was elsewhere, Amelia made herself a coffee. It was strange; she never used to drink the stuff, but now the mornings didn’t feel like they had truly begun until she had a cup of the black gold in her hands. She poured hot water over the coffee grounds and examined the maps on Serena’s desk.

Serena had made notes of their location and heading that morning. Amelia only knew the basics, but Serena had explained how little information she needed to identify the exact location of the Vengeance in the Known World. If Serena had access to recent forecasts of the moon cycles and could see at least two moons, she could perfectly triangulate their position. Even without the moons, Serena could navigate by the stars alone!

Of course, in the modern age of crystal-powered sail, the Empire had hundreds, if not thousands, of crystal-powered lighthouses dotted around its territories. These lighthouses not only provided a visual light, but also sent out a pulse in the aetherfield every fifteen minutes, broadcasting the lighthouse's identification code. Any ship whose aetherscopes were in range of three lighthouses could triangulate their position exactly. Those in range of fewer lighthouses could use other information, like the stars or the moons, to compensate.

Amelia found it incredible how much this world had achieved without widespread use of electricity. Unfortunately, with how much the lumina and aetherfield disrupted radar and circuits, she felt the Empire had overlooked some key applications. Amelia glanced towards the bedroom where her bags lay unopened. She’d brought quite a bit of material from the crystalcraft lectures. If only she could reproduce that, then she might be able to do far more good in this world than even what her healing could do!

Anathor announced his return just as Amelia pressed and poured her morning coffee. As he finished his greeting, Amelia sensed the ship slowly turning in a new direction.

“Change in direction?” Amelia asked, sipping her coffee and resisting the urge to groan in satisfaction. She’d have to take another cup to the new Northerner; it seemed the easiest way to become friends. After all, Officer Bright seemed as addicted to coffee as Amelia was to Serena.

“Hmm…” Anathor hummed. “Small argument between our desired itinerary and Ainese perimeter ships. They are shadowing us, making it known our colours are… unwelcome in their airspace.” The moose's eyes flashed menacingly. “Fools. Now’s not the time for the Far East to be playing about.”

Amelia felt her forehead furrow. “Why are they behaving like that? Aren’t we all on the same side?”

“Bah! They’ve always been prickly. Ungrateful louts…” Anathor grumbled. “After everything we did for them… It’s always like this with the distant territories. They lack the respect they should show.”

“There’s… not going to be a fight, is there?” Amelia asked hesitatingly.

“...No. The captain’s changing our course. Better we get to our destination early than play politics with the Ainese and arrive late.”

“Mmm…” Amelia nodded, taking another sip. “Speaking of distant territories, have you ever been to our destination? Ishaq?” 

Anathor delayed his answer long enough for Amelia to flip her perception to the Shimmer and take a look. Anathor’s body, made of flowing ribbons of silky magic that covered the ship’s structure, seemed to be… thinking. Anathor looked both alien and beautiful at the same time. The ribbons began to pulse as he spoke.

“I haven’t,” Anathor said. “Even before I was bound to the ship I never went that far South. Before the invention of the lift engine, Ishaq was difficult to get to. It was founded by fleeing desert refugees during the Long Discordancy. It’s well-protected, you see. The Enemy needed to drink water and rest like any army. But water is difficult to find in the Red Sands, and if you manage to cross the desert, you have the unforgiving Salaban Range to climb over. Ishaq was so untouched by the Enemy’s forces that they were one of the few pockets of resistance actively going on the offensive. Ishaq’s armies skirted the continent’s edge and liberated Shiloh. Unfortunately, the Enemy found their own path and fighting stalled in the territory of the old Human Kingdom of Suria.”

“Suria?” Amelia asked, hopping onto Serena’s desk and swinging her legs. “Where’s that?”

“It… no longer exists. It ruled the lands east of the Krummunds. Its defences were destroyed in the fighting by one of the Enemy’s titanlords; a greatwurm that burrowed under the earth and collapsed fortifications and cities alike. That creature died when Elana’s armies arrived and she invoked her divine power and shattered the lands, creating the Shattered Isles.”

“Ah…” Amelia mumbled. “What happened to the humans of Suria?”

“The few survivors found a new life in Ishaq. I believe, even today, the city has a strong human population. You might meet many of your kind there, Lady Thornheart.”

“Really!? I can’t wait!” Amelia felt her optimism grow even further. “Hmm…” she said thoughtfully. During dinner with Serena’s father, they’d discussed the animal gods and he had told her of a greatwurm worshipped by the desert tribes. 

Was it perhaps the same one? 

“You are thinking of Urlan the Greatwurm,” Anathor said after Amelia asked. “The titanlord was far larger, having been poisoned and corrupted into servitude. He was called…” Anathor trailed off for a moment. “I can’t quite remember… but he was a terrible beast. He was both hated and pitied. I don’t know what beliefs are popular in Ishaq, but I believe much of the desert still follows the ritualistic religion of Urda, worshippers of the insect gods.”

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded. “Like the Greatspider, right?” She remembered what she’d learned about the desert from Tomes and Instructor Abbas. “They believe it’s the Empress in another form, right?”

Anathor chuckled. “That’s what the sects around Dectus and Qasim believe, but that’s the modern branch of Urda. We’re going to be near Ashendi territory, where the old tribes of Haki and Treki people reside. Their ancestors built pyramids far older than I am to bury their kings and, if you believe the tales, protect the slumbering bodies of their insect gods.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Urda teaches of a great cataclysm that happened many thousands of years ago. Long before my time… long before the human caravans came to this world… they speak of a world in the under-sky; a land surrounded by an endless plane of water, ruled by the spider god Mura. They built the pyramids to protect their gods until a time came for them to step back into the world. Hmm…” Anathor hummed thoughtfully. “There was Bain, the beetle god. Falin, the ant god. The largest was Mura. She’s housed in the largest of the pyramids.”

“So the Ashendi don’t believe the spider god is the Empress?” Amelia asked.

“That’s right, Lady Thornheart. If I remember correctly, they teach that Elana was one of Mura’s offspring that she produced to save Cascadia.” Anathor paused momentarily. “I remember liberating Qasim and Dectus during the Third Crusade, then one night, Elana announced she was going south, and we were to wait for her. When she returned, she had the Ashendi armies under her banner.”

“I see!” Amelia grinned. Anathor was chatty today, wasn’t he? She planned to take full advantage of it. “What was the desert like?” she asked.

“Hmm…” Anathor mumbled. “A terrible place. Beautiful, but terrible. The Red Moon acts as a second sun in the South, you see. When it’s low, the heat is so overwhelming that desert travel is impossible for all but high-level aether users. I remember it now. What a dreadful heat it was… it was a relentless, oppressive heat that evaporated your sweat before it could cool you. It didn’t matter how much you drank, you could never cool down. It took us a while to figure out that drinking so much water without salt was dangerous. Men were going mad in the heat. To survive out there, you must live like the desert creatures and burrow underground when the moon comes close. That is, if you’re foolish enough to try and cross at the wrong time. Desert trade follows the cycle of their moon, you see.

“Back then we had no ships, and even if we did, lift engines wouldn’t work over the Red Sands. You have to go on foot or ride the windskimmers the desert tribes had domesticated. Now I believe you can also cross using kites and catching the wind on wooden boards… They call it sandsurfing. The desert is a difficult place to live, but the surrounding territories are tropical paradises. Ishaq and Shiloh get rainstorms with raindrops as big as your thumb!”

“Whoa!” Amelia expressed her amazement. “I can’t wait to explore!”

“You must be careful, Lady Thornheart. Both you and the captain. The desert tribes live very differently from the rest of the Empire. You must never harm an insect in the desert. If you do so intentionally, they’ll punish you. As for Ishaq… well… I’ve heard it’s quite an exotic place where social norms are rather… relaxed. As Officer Bright said, there’s a reason ships lose crew members when making land there…”

“How scandalous!” Amelia exclaimed, bringing a hand to her mouth in mock surprise. She had a pretty good idea of what temptations would cause men to desert. “Right then!” Amelia brought a fist to her open palm. “Don’t hurt insects and don’t fall for the temptations of Ishaq! Got it! Thank you, Anathor!”

“Hmm… you’re most welcome, Lady Thornheart.”

Amelia decided to go on the attack.

“So what was she like? The Empress, I mean. Back then, she wasn’t an Empress, right?” As she asked, Amelia couldn’t help but look at the painting hanging next to the stuffed moose head. There, the Empress or Demonkind was depicted. Not in any of her forms, but what was supposed to be her original Cerulean appearance. Blonde hair, blue eyes, small horns.

Shockingly similar to Amelia.

“Hmm… by the time of the Third Crusade, she was a confident, powerful leader. Her hesitation was gone, and her will and focus were of unwavering determination. She was so very nervous at the start, you see…” Anathor laughed softly, his deep, gruff voice filling the room. “She would be embarrassed to know I was telling you… I should stop…”

“I was just wondering!” Amelia quickly spoke up before Anathor shut down. “You fought alongside her, didn’t you? Was this before you…” She twiddled her thumbs. “Became a Formless?”

“Hmm… I was more of a teacher and advisor,” Anathor replied. “That was until… hmm…” Anathor’s voice dropped low, taking on a note of pain. “We committed a cardinal sin…” He continued to mumble indecipherable words.

“Sorry,” Amelia said. “It’s just that I read this book in the academy. It was called The Formless: Sightings and Conversations. I hoped you could talk about your origins, but you don’t have to if it's difficult!” Amelia waved her hands apologetically. “I was just curious!”

“I..” Anathor trailed off. “It’s something I can’t talk about, Lady Thornheart.”

“I understand! I didn’t-”

“I mean, I can’t talk about it. A binding oath was imposed upon us. I cannot talk about the event even if I want to. None of us can, with one exception. Should you ever find yourself in conversation with Empress Elana herself, you could ask her. Although… the subject is painful for her…”

“Oh?” Amelia raised an eyebrow. “I met her!”

“Hmm…?”

“The Empress,” Amelia clarified. “I’ve already met her!”

“You… have? When?”

“A few days ago, in Asamaywa. She was disguised as an instructor. She was teaching me and Serena! She was…” Amelia thought back to the sessions that ‘Katalin’ had led. “She was really cool! But also frustratingly vague! She barely answered any questions at all! Just like you!”

“That’s…” Anathor trailed off before chuckling lightly. “Just like her. I should have guessed she would want to see you in person. I should have given you a warning. I apologise, Lady Thornheart. I should have counselled you better.”

“No worries!”

“What did you two talk about?”

Amelia answered honestly, describing the revelation about her power and shard. Amelia’s instincts had always told her Anathor was a trustworthy person, and his historical closeness with the Empress only reinforced that opinion. Amelia suspected the Formless was well-versed in the nature of shards and shardbearers, and his lack of surprise at her revelations confirmed it.

“She said that, did she…?” Anathor said quietly. “But, it has been nearly a millennium. How could a shard resist corruption for so long…? Could it be..? No… Then again, time does work differently in the deeper layers… could one of the Old Ones have…? Thought you came from the Heavens…”

“Anathor,” Amelia said sternly, crossing her arms.

“Hmm…?”

“You’re doing that thing again!” Amelia accused. “Mumbling all secretive to yourself!”

“...Apologies, Lady Thornheart. These are not matters to talk of lightly. Knowledge of these things is dangerous, and if Empress Elana hasn’t given you the answers, she has chosen not to do so for good reason. I should not speak out of turn if she doesn’t think you’re ready.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. Her coffee had gone cold, so she used magic to heat it back up. As steam began to rise from her cup, she asked, “Can you talk to me about the Shimmer?”

“You know about that place?” Anathor asked. “Of course… with your talents, it was only a matter of time. Did you talk to the Empress about it?”

“No, she vanished before I could! Even when I looked into the Shimmer, I couldn’t see her!” Amelia went on to explain how she and Lunaria had taught themselves to see into the alternative layer of reality, how the Lord Guardian had given Amelia a hint to focus on her shadow, and the existence of Noburu’s blessing that enabled him to step into the Shimmer.

“So that is what that man’s blessing does… I was wondering…” Anathor murmured. “The advice the Lord Guardian gave you is correct. You must find your shadow,” he finished solemnly.

“Find my shadow?” Amelia questioned, tilting her head in confusion. She pointed to the floor, where the room's aetherlight cast her subtle shadow. “There it is,” she said with a shrug.

“Not like that, Lady Thornheart. You must find your shadow in the Shimmer. Only then will the door reveal itself to you.”

“But there’s no shadow in the Shimmer!” Amelia protested. “The same reddish-brown light lights everything! From all angles!”

“That’s why you need to look,” Anathor said. “It’s different for everyone. That man’s blessing likely allows him to do it instinctively. Perhaps he has some answers. The Red Sands might help you. The desert is known for providing answers to those who are lost.”

“I’m not lost. I’m just confused about why no one’s giving me clear answers!” Amelia pouted until another question popped into her mind. “Speaking of the Shimmer, can you talk about why you look like you do? Do all Formless look like that?”

“Hmm…” Anathor hummed. “I suppose so. Souls can exist in many forms, and when they are bound, they change to suit their environment. I, along with the other forty-one members of the expedition, am restricted to the deeper layers of reality. Many of us are still struggling to break through. It turned out splintering wasn’t the only thing that could happen to a soul. They can be unravelled as well.”

Expedition? Amelia thought. Interesting. She filed that away for future reference. The book about the Formless had mentioned nothing about them being on an expedition together. 

“Would you like me to try and heal you?” she asked. “Or any Formless I come across?”

“Best not…” Anathor replied. “The results might be… unfavourable, especially with me. I know enough of myself to maintain my ego, and any more of your magic might trouble the ship. No matter how powerful you may be, you cannot remake a soul. We must collect the shards, so she remembers more of herself…”

She? Amelia thought. So it’s a woman?

Anathor was being very chatty today!

“In the book they referenced a stone slab in the Cathedral of Bone. It has all your names listed there, along with a title. It’s all written in Anglish and most have been translated, such as Diego the Wanderer or Sindr the Saviour.” Amelia took a breath. “Your title was cut off, due to damage done to the slab. Can you remember what it was?”

“Hmm…” Anathor hummed. “That is my secret to keep, Lady Thornheart.”

So he did know!

“Fine,” Amelia said with a grin. “I won’t press, promise!”

“Are you going to tell the captain about the Empress?” Anathor asked.

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded. “I have to! I was going to tell her this morning, but I slept in!”

“Tell her gently,” Anathor said. “The captain respects our Overlord of Overlords with the deepest of conviction. It can be a shock for someone to find out how… personable she can be in reality. It can ruin their illusions about her… Oh, here comes the Captain now.”

Before Amelia could answer, the door opened and Serena strode through. She wore an annoyed expression and was clicking her tongue loudly.

“Idiots,” Serena muttered, taking off her gloves and pacing. “I knew relations were low, but to think they would show such disrespect to a ship flying Imperial colours! Tsk!” Serena crossed her arms. “Well, at least we’ll be early for our meeting with the Indefatigable. Perhaps Captain Matthews can enlighten me on the level of disrespect the Ainese seem so fond of showing these days!”

Serena clenched her hand and then released it. “Good morning, by the way,” she said to Amelia. “Or afternoon, I suppose. I tried to wake you, but you were sleeping like a babe.”

“I think I needed it! Lots of things to think about!” Amelia chirped. “I see you’ve been having trouble with the locals?”

“You wouldn’t think they serve the same Empress from how they act,” Serena said, shaking her head and glancing at the portrait on the wall. “I bet they would change their tune if she made an Imperial visit! Idiots!” Taking a deep breath, Serena sat on the floor and closed her eyes.

“Calming yourself?” Amelia asked.

“Trying that breathing technique Katalin taught us, remember?” Serena answered with her eyes closed. “And stop sitting on my desk. You’ll wrinkle my maps.”

“Mmm…” Amelia hummed, hopping off. “Speaking of Katalin…”

Ah, suddenly things were incredibly awkward.

“What about her?” Serena asked, her eyes still closed.

“Well…” Amelia fidgeted, glancing towards the stuffed moose head.

All she got back was a flash of red eyes.

She supposed that was his form of encouragement.

Amelia had been told to wait until they’d left the East before telling Serena, but if the Ainese perimeter ships were encouraging them out of their airspace, then it was like they had left already, right?

“You know how I stayed behind after the last session…?” Amelia asked slowly. “Well… I wanted to verify something. I sort of… perceived something about her I needed to check.” Amelia swallowed. “And I did. I mean, I confirmed it, right?”

Serena opened her eyes and frowned, moving to get up.

“No, no, no…” Amelia waved her arms. “Stay sitting down. Trust me.”

“Please,” Serena said sarcastically. “I’m not like one of those delicate Centralis girls who’ll faint the moment they hear something shocking. Come on then, what’s the big secret? Did she have a blessing or something? Was she a Second-Word Speaker?”

Amelia swallowed. Suddenly, her mouth felt awfully dry. She glanced at the portrait of the Empress. Maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed like those blue eyes were watching them right now, and those painted lips had curled up ever so slightly.

Serena suddenly laughed, following Amelia’s gaze to the painting. “You’re not going to tell me she was the Empress in disguise! Ha!” Serena laughed heartily.

Amelia clenched her jaw, feeling the colour fall from her face. 

She giggled unconsciously.

“Well,” Amelia said in a small voice.

“You said it.”