Warrior and Witch
For eight days, Mirei thought she could relax.
Those days weren’t empty of stress; her very presence at Starfall was a source of tension for the witches around her. Her life was no longer in danger, though. Her magic was under control and the Primes were no longer planning to execute her; on the whole, her situation had improved. And so Mirei began to relax.
But on the Hindi day, a Cousin woke her with a message that she was needed in Satomi’s office. That alone was a sign of trouble. Mirei had gone to that office every morning since coming back to Starfall, and given that she didn’t sleep in, she was always there by First at the latest. If Satomi had sent a servant to wake her early, then there was trouble bad enough that it couldn’t wait.
Mirei sent the Cousin away and dressed as quickly as she could, throwing on the first thing that came to hand. It was a lightweight blue dress, on loan from some witch, or perhaps another Cousin. Miryo’s clothing, left behind when she went in search of Mirage, didn’t fit her muscled shoulders, and the only clothing of Mirage’s she had was her Hunter uniform. Wearing that only stirred people up even more. As did going armed; Mirei had to stop herself short of taking the sword that leaned against the wall by her bed. There might be trouble, but she sincerely hoped it wasn’t bad enough that she would have to kill anyone.
And you’d look like an idiot, wearing a sword over a dress.
Unarmed, she left the New House, the residence for newly tested witches who had not yet established homes elsewhere. It was only a short walk from there to the main structure of Starfall, a rambling complex filled with offices, libraries, and classrooms. The hour was early enough that few people were about, for which she was grateful. They still stared at her, and it brought back surreal memories of her childhood as Mirage. People had stared at her then, too, for the fiery red hair that made her look like a witch. She’d snarled about it for years, only to find out that she
was
, in a sense, a witch—or rather, the other half of one. Getting over
that
revelation had taken a while.
Ruriko was waiting in the outer office, surrounded as always by piles of paper. She exchanged one look with Mirei; Ruriko could say more with one look than most women could with a speech. Then the secretary waved her through, into the Void Prime’s office, and turned back to her work.
The interior room was one Mirei had never seen before eight days ago, yet it had become familiar with startling speed. As a witch-student who had not yet been tested, Miryo had never been summoned to this inner sanctum, with its elegantly tiled floor, shelves of books, and tidy sheaves of paper. She’d spoken instead with the unranked witches who taught her classes, or occasionally the Keys who served the Primes and ran much of Starfall’s business. Since returning as Mirei, though, she’d spent much of every day here, sitting in one of the high-backed chairs, trying to help quell the trouble she’d caused.
Satomi was alone inside—another worrisome note. Usually other people were present for these meetings. The Void Prime stood next to the window, gazing out over the predawn landscape. She, too, was much more familiar than she had been—enough so that Mirei could read the tension in her body, even though she was trying to hide it. Satomi had the kind of face that registered age by acquiring more dignity, rather than lines, but today she looked old and tired.
The door closed softly behind Mirei; she waited, then ventured to speak. “Satomi-aken. What’s happened?”
Satomi’s voice was quiet, flat, despite its richly trained tones. “Shimi is gone.”
“Gone?”
“From Starfall. She left in the night.” Satomi turned away from the window. The lamps in her office, lit against the early morning darkness of the sky, made her look even paler than usual, and painted her delicate features with shadows. The unrelieved black of her dress only accentuated it. Black was her Elemental color, and she’d always worn it on ceremonial occasions, but she hadn’t put it off since Mirei came to Starfall. Mirei suspected it was in mourning for all the doppelgangers who had died. Or, perhaps, for her own.
The Void Prime crossed to her desk and picked up the single sheet of parchment that lay on it. She scanned it, not appearing to really read the words, and then handed it to Mirei.
I have left, and will not return. I refuse to remain in company with that abomination. The doppelganger is taken out of us for a reason; to bring it back in is rankest heresy. It must be destroyed. To state that it is the Warrior and the Void is no argument in its favor
—
on the contrary, that is exactly why we must get rid of it. It is the destruction of life, the destruction of magic, the antithesis of everything that is this world, and if we welcome it back in, we will have committed a terrible sin. It will not be enough for that monster to leave. We must destroy it, and remove this horror from the world
.
Mirei shook her head in disbelief, putting the sheet back down. “She almost sounds like a Nalochkan.”
“She was raised in Kalistyi,” Satomi said grimly. “The Nalochkan sect was as strong in Kalistyi when Shimi was a child as they are now. Clergy never come into our halls, of course—Nalochkan or otherwise—but the influence still penetrates.”
“You mean…” Mirei fumbled for words. She wasn’t awake enough yet to handle this rupture to the tenuous peace. “She can’t actually
share
their beliefs—can she? To disavow the Warrior, to say she’s not even part of the
Goddess
—” It would be radical enough in an unranked witch; though the witches didn’t call themselves a sect, they had their own approach to religion, and rarely strayed from it. For no less a woman than the Air Prime, one of the five women who ruled Starfall and its people, to show such allegiance to an outside sect—