When Asiah was young, the old nanny who looked after her as a child would tell her stories of odd happenings that only presented themselves when both of the moons were high in the sky and full as a pregnant woman's belly. Naturally, when she was young she believed those tales but as she grew, she came to accept the fact that the strange didn't only happen when both the moons were full. The strange happened all the time. Villages were razed and burned by crazed Mages or slaughtered and resurrected by elder Lichs. Oftentimes, those things took place under a sunny sky.
But now, as she watched the last of the marble fall on the ground at her feet, she begged the old nanny--who had gone to rest in the Goddess's embrace years ago--to forgive her.
Your stories were right, old nan. They weren't tall tales told to me to make me behave. They were real.
The last of the marble fell away and the man was free. Asiah jumped back further as he fell into the grass. His black hair glistened under the moonlight, reflecting it like the surface of the river next to the manor she was born in.
His body twitched as he struggled to right himself, to push himself up. Asiah watched him struggle for a moment before she remembered where she was and what she had done. Every Mage nearby must be on their way by now. She didn't want to think of the fate that might befall her should she be caught. The Head was known for being unwavering when it came to those who dared tamper with things left behind by the gods.
She backed away from the man. Even someone like her who had no talent for magic and had only come into contact with feats of magic a handful of times in all her life could understand what was going on here. The stories had been true and Kavaris, the child of the sun goddess Kasari, had really been turned into a statue and placed here. It wasn't his beloved that would set him free but her removing his ring.
He had called her Ariadne, but clearly, she was not. Ariadne was described in the tales to be tall and willowy with eyes that could bring kings to their knees and a smile that knights willingly went to war for. Although Asiah didn't consider herself shabby by any means--she was the daughter of a noble, after all--she was tiny and chubby, her eyes and smile carried the weight of the responsibilities she had taken on since her mother's passing. She was no great beauty.
And yet, this man--Kavaris--stirred again. He forced his head up to look at her, his eyes wide and pleading. He reached a tanned hand toward her and said, "Ariadne, my love. Why do you gaze at me so? Have I frightened you?"
Before she could say anything, they were surrounded. Mages slinked into the garden from each direction, just as she'd figured they would. There was no escape. They looked at the man lying in the grass, struggling to right himself and the podium where the statue had been, and then they slid their gazes over to her. She saw their eyes go wide, their mouths go limp.
A woman stepped out from the crowd of Mages standing between Asiah and the gate to the west that led to town. For a moment, Asiah stared at her in pure surprise. She was Elven. Her ears protruded from her head in sharp, delicate points. She looked at the man and then fixed her swirling blue eyes, slit like a cat's, on Asiah.
She blew out the longest, most winded of sighs and fixed her eyes to the skies. "Gods, when I returned to Eldyngrove, this was not the welcome I thought I'd get. A thief and a demi-god. What poor luck I have."
Asiah's blood went cold. The ring at her hip seemed to weigh a ton suddenly. She swallowed hard.
"I don't know what you mean," she lied. "I--"
The Elven woman raised a hand, waving away her excuses. "Yes, yes. You're innocent. You've stolen nothing. You've done no wrong. You may feel free to tell all of this to the Head when you meet her for your crimes."
Asiah's heart dropped in her chest and her eyes stung with unshed tears. This had always been a possibility and she had known it from the very beginning. Still, she pictured her sisters' faces behind her eyes, pictured the fates that would befall them because of her incompetence. Suddenly, she was full of hatred for Kavaris and these Mages, and the gods themselves. Why did the magic sealing him in the statue have to break? Why were Mages given such power that even now, she knew she couldn't hope to escape them? The Elven woman in particular gave off an air that chilled Asiah to the bone. Why had the gods abandoned this world and forsaken her, even in her time of dire need?
She wanted to scream, to cry, and curse all at once. But she bit her tongue and held her head high. Her father would offer her no support once word of what she had done reached his ears. And she knew by now that her maternal family would be no support, either. The Flaxerns had long ago shown how little they valued Asiah and her sisters after their mother was gone. She would be tried, and maybe she would be imprisoned. If the Head was particularly angry, she might even be hung.
"You will do no such thing," said the man from the statue. He forced himself, on shaking arms, to sit up. When he was righted, he glared up at the woman from his spot on the ground. "I won't allow you to treat my wife like a criminal."
The Elf lifted a dainty eyebrow. "Your wife? This woman? Have all those centuries in stone turned you mad?"
The man narrowed his eyes at the woman's tone. "I'm as sane as I've ever been. More sane than you appear to be. You forget yourself, Elf."
The Elven woman fixed the man with a gaze so sour Asiah felt herself almost fearing for him. "You're as mad as I thought you were. Your god blood will do nothing for you in this day and in this age. The gods are gone, and your blood means nothing to no one but the fanatics and the foolish. You will come with me to Magdellanis to see the Head." She looked over at Asiah, and she tried very hard not to cringe under that harsh gaze. "You and your wife, both."