180 Tris’ Soul

AUTHOR'S POV

A light feast was held at the courtyard of the imperial palace. They were served with conger eel stew, roasted salmon in herbs, an exotic presentation of swans, a wide selection of wild berries, oranges and grapes, and savory sweet tarts. Fine aged wines were poured in everyone's glasses, here and there. The people were all smiles and festive for such a glorious warm sunny day.

Meanwhile, in the chancery for Wiccans just by the Northwing Tower of the castle, Syria checks her list of the things she have already done with her black feather quill - restoring the apotropaic spells in some areas in the palace, in Brandenburg, and in the Holy Land. As she dip the quill into the bottle of black ink, the high priestess took a glimpse of the passenger talisman on her table. She sighed deeply as she check another task that took her some time to figure out. Now that she have attached the soul back to the talisman, she couldn't wait to let the King know that Tris' soul has been inside him all along.

Syria grab hold of the talisman and sat on her settee. Noticeably, some strong dark magic contains Tris' soul inside. Suddenly, she felt her hands weakened that the talisman slipped through her fingers. The high priestess often feel some tingling in her fingertips lately, as if someone nearby is harboring magic making her weary and powerless. Nevertheless, she was able to fight it off and perform her duties during her sleepless nights with the help white magic.

Syria picked up the talisman that she dropped on the floor, when a black bird flew in from the window. The winged creature later turned into a woman, shaking off the black blue feathers beautifully like a blooming flower. Syria looked at her as if she was expecting her to arrive.

"You called?", the woman in a black houppelande asked.

"Freya, make haste", Syria greeted as she stood up and hurriedly closed the main door. "This place isn't safe. Take this and bring it to Iaso", Syria handed to Freya the King's Passenger Talisman and pushed her by the window.

Freya held the unfamiliar talisman with a wrinkled forehead and asked, "What is this?".

"It's a passenger talisman. Someone planted a soul passenger in the King. And guess who's the soul embedded in his body like a shadow? It's Tris of Caluso", Syria whispered frantically. In one of Syria's water ritual to view the soul trapped in the talisman bound to the king, she saw Tris' soul. "You must hurry! Someone here is using dark magic, and its channeling my powers making me weaker", Syria coughed heavily as she pull away.

"What? Could it be Celeste?", Freya gasped with her hands on her mouth.

"It's her! It should be. Everyday she's getting more powerful. Once she get a hold of Tris' soul, the game is over for all of us", Syria trembled in fear.

"Hold on, how did you know it's Tris' soul that's in here?", Freya held on the window pane before she prepare to fly out.

"I've been studying her for a while now. Her portraits from the Southwing.. her face in the books. I knew her in the back of my mind even if I hadn't met her.", Syria creased her brows remembering how Tris looks in her visions. "Her soul is suffering, and we should set her free", she insist.

"I will tell Iaso and perhaps, send more Wiccans to your aid.", Freya offered.

"No, it's too dangerous. If my intuition is right, sending more Wiccans will only make Celeste stronger.", Syria thinks that Celeste can grow stronger as she steal other Wiccan's powers using dark magic. "We need the celestial, look for Haelan. It's the only way we can stop Celeste and Argus", she said.

"They were in Wicce. Haelan isn't interested in saving the kingdom", Freya said with a sullen face. She regrets putting the blame on Helena, and bursting her unreasonble anger on her. After that night, she felt sorry for losing a friend.

"There's got to be another way to convince the celestial! They've infiltrated the palace. Celeste is making sure that the war comes from within, ensuring a sure win. We can't let that happen", Syria thought that Celeste is trying to use the soul of a celestial traveler and embed it in her body making her an invincible sorcerer. She must've used the King's body as a vessel for the celestial's soul, before making their souls one.

"But will you be alright alone here, Syria?," Freya worriedly asked.

"I'll keep things at bay here.", Syria gave Freya a tight embrace. "Now go! I have gotten Tris' soul attached to this Talisman. Bring it to Iaso, she knows what to do", Syria sent Freya away with a hope everything will go well from then. Thus, the moment Freya flew out of the window, she felt something sinister lurking in the dark inside her chambers. Syria went to her table, opened the drawer and took one thin roll of tobacco out. She sat down on her rocking chair and lit her cigar. "Look who decided to finally show up", she said.

"I'm glad you didn't disappoint. They were right to make you the high priestess, next to the potion lady, Yereah. How did you find out about the talisman?", Celeste appeared from the dark, showing her fair face.

"You're too late, it's gone", Syria uttered as she puff more smoke. "It's not that hard to connect the dots, you know", she said.

Celeste lifted Syria's list of things to do in the air, and in a flick of a hand, it turned to black ashes. "You let it go before you even find out how can it be of use for you?", Celeste sat on a settee across Syria.

"I don't need to know.", Syria huffed and puffed until the smoke reaches Celeste.

"I'll tell you anyway", with an unseen force, Celeste took Syria's cigar right from her mouth to her right hand. "I had one job. Collect the traveler's stone, and get a celestial. I woke up Argus, with a belief that his burning desires for his undying revenge would make my job easier. Well, I was right. Using his madness, we were able to get into the palace in no time. He had quite a few ridiculous requests.. like murdering a lord in Brandenburg, and leading a massacre in Holy Land… I just can't say no because his dark healers were a bit of a tool for distraction while I dissolve the apotropaic spell protections and slip soul travelers in the palace. Unremarkably, we had our hands on the soul traveler's stone, and most important of all, we found ourselves not just one celestial but two most powerful soul travelers. The other celestial is just so slippery to catch. But at least, I had one in my favorite cage. But some witch found out about my passenger talisman and stole it from me. A celestial with a traveler's stone would make a royal a powerful one who wields a blade, soul travels, move the earth, and summon the dark ones. And with Iaso's stone, I can turn back time for Galen anytime he wants", Celeste said like a deluded fallen angel with eyes gleaming in martyrdom.

"Galen? Wasn't he attacked by dark healers?", Syria creased her brows in wonder.

"My love didn't want to look suspiscious in all of these tangled ludicrousy. We had to improvise and make it look clean. It's convincing, is it not?", Celeste puffed a smoke as her eyes darkened. She threw the cigar away realizing it is spellbound with a sleep inducing magic. "How wise of you, Syria. I hope your spell works in no time", Celeste's face turned blank as she find out Syria's tricks.

"Love? You're pathetic. You're doing this for a royal!? I thought you hate their golden asses and you demand freedom from the chains of being a Wiccan slave?", Syria was about to stand on her feet when she felt a strong force that suddenly pinned her down the chair. In an instant, she couldn't move an inch… that eventually made it harder for her to breath.

"Who even said that? I never hated royals. How can I despise someone who will make me a queen? How can I abhor the likes of Galen? I sold every inch of my body to him, that I swore with my life that I will not rest until he become a King… and I, His Queen", Celeste sounded like a madman to Syria.

"You've got…to be joking me. Galen will never… make you his queen. He got.. his eyes on … somebody else. He's just… using you… like how all the.. royals used us!", Syria buried her nails on the armrest of the settee, catching her breath.

"You're a liar", Celeste simply said. "This is why I don't like to work with Wiccans. You all get jealous of me.", she then crossed her legs and leaned forward with hand on her chin. "High priestess, why don't you just join me? Don't you like this much power? You'll no longer know fear. You'll be wisest. And no one will look down on you", she smiled.

"Ain't I the.. high priestess already?", Syria responded a clear veto. Squinting her eyes, Celeste strangled the high priestess even more as she slowly lose her breath. However, the sleeping spell that Syria induced have started to kick in. Fighting the sleepiness, Celeste squeezed Syria's neck even tighter. Realizing the drowsiness will conquer her head anytime soon, Celeste loosened her grip on Syria and uttered, "Enfermer la Sorcière".

Syria was then surrounded by somewhat a prison cell with energy jail bars. Releasing the high priestess from her fury, Celeste stood up, magically pulled out a black candle out of her hand and lighted it up. As the glow from the candle illuminate her face, Celeste slowly possess the illusion of Syria's physical body before crashing on the floor unconscious.