​# Chapter 1 – A Flower in Winter

“Come, Sela,” said a woman’s light voice.

The girl turned towards the woman seated in the white wooden throne atop the ivory and gold dais. Sela clutched her doll in one hand and used her other to lift the hem of her overlong tunic to ascend the stairs. She had learned this woman was to be obeyed, always. Sela wasn’t punished if she disobeyed. It was worse. She would disappoint.

The noise in the distance grew louder. The ground shook beneath her feet. The intricate crystal chandeliers hanging from the high, vaulted ceilings tinkled as they shook back and forth. Sela paused and looked at the massive white doors. She’d seen them open and knew they were nearly as thick as she was tall.

How could anything get through them?

The enemy had come to Eden. The army had already taken three cities. Godkiller had slain four gods, the God of Change being the first.

“Fear not, child," the woman said to her. "Today is not your day.”

Sela sat beside the woman and began to braid her doll’s long brown hair. The woman followed suit with Sela’s hair. The touching and soothing felt nice, and Sela let loose a soft but satisfied sigh. This was an activity they’d shared since Sela had come to the temple more than a year ago. The peaceful temple where nothing exciting ever happened. Until today.

The enemy had arrived at Eden’s harbour early this morning, Sela had heard around the temple. She wasn’t allowed outside today, so only heard bits and pieces. With enough of those scraps, she could build a little picture of what was happening.

Godkiller’s army had sailed into the port with ships in numbers far beyond the siege engines’ ability to fight off. Ballistae and catapults launched. Huge javelins punctured the sides of boats they hit. Flaming spheres turned a pitifully small number of ships into burning wrecks quickly sinking, but they hadn’t the power to stop the fleet powering into the harbour.

The enemy had taken the docks in no time, then pushed straight toward the heart of the city and Nature’s temple. They held the ground they took and cleared the roads unmindful of whoever owned whatever they moved. The point of the invading army found Nature Way and mowed down anything in their path. Civilians, she’d heard, were shoved into buildings unharmed, but they killed all soldiers and anyone who raised a weapon against them.

The tiniest of laughs sounded behind Sela and she glanced over her shoulder into the eyes of her mentor, the woman who took care of her and had since she’d come here. Those deep-brown eyes were soft and gentle, they revealed none of the fear the woman must be feeling.

Sela knew the enemy was coming for the woman and wanted to kill her. The whole city must be trying to make them stop but, from the sounds outside, weren’t doing too well. Nobody had bothered to tell Sela why the people coming wanted to kill the woman. They’d all been nothing but nice to Sela. On the very few occasions where she misbehaved and received punishment, it was far less severe than she expected.

There was a lot going on Sela didn’t understand, but she was familiar with the concept of death. It was a part of nature, so must be understood and accepted as the correct path. When she’d been new here and nobody knew who she was, she’d overheard people whispering about her teacher. They’d said the woman was thousands of years old and never aged beyond her current form. She’d had students numbering in the hundreds but had taken none in the last twenty years. None other than a very surprised Sela.

Shouts just outside the doors broke the peace. Startled, Sela jumped to her feet, hair pulling from the woman’s fingers, braid collapsed. The doll tumbled from her lap and bounced down the stairs until it came to rest on the alabaster floor.

Behind Sela, the woman took a deep breath. She turned Sela and pulled her into a firm embrace before kissing her forehead.

“Go, Sela,” the woman said with a smile as a tear escaped her eye, “to your place of hiding. You must remain there.”

Sela knew where she was supposed to run, but she didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay with her friend and protect her. There were so many things to tell her and things to ask her and things still to be done together. Instead of obeying, she stood and looked at the woman, feeling moisture forming in her eyes.

“Go!” the woman said more forcefully. “There is no more time.”

Tears welled up and rolled down Sela’s cheeks at the words. Not at the harshness of the command, not at the fear in the voice, but at the pain in the woman’s eyes. The frailty in the most powerful person she’d ever known. She wanted to ask a hundred questions and a thousand favours. She wanted them to run away together and vanish from the city. The eyes looking back at her seemed about to break. Sela couldn’t be the one to make that happen.

She descended the stairs on delicate bare feet, hopped over her doll, then hurried towards the vines covering the west wall. She disappeared a moment later with barely a rustle of the verdant greenery. From inside the vines, she lifted a leaf a little so she could see.

The woman stood proudly upon the dais. She didn’t flinch when loud rumbling sounds announced something big and heavy arriving. The massive something smashed into the metal banded wood of the doors. After only a few strikes, a large, blunted metal head smashed through. It shattered both the thick wood and a peace which had stood for a thousand years.

Sela reached out to shift a vine and clear her view of the doors. There was the ram, still backing up, and a lot of soldiers. Those soldiers now stood around with their shouting dying down. Silence once again dominated the temple. The woman stood unmoving. She barely blinked, even as the dust particles from the breach reached her eyes. No air stirred her long white hair. Her lean muscles did not pulse or spasm or jerk about. She barely breathed.

Sela heard him before she saw him. The soles of his boots clicking on the stones creating a dreadful noise in the near perfect silence. A quiet command in a low, hushed voice. Then, with a slow, steady stride through the splintered oak, he came into view.

The tall man wore unadorned but clean armor bearing little dust or sign of recent violence. It was dark grey and meticulously kept. The hilt of a scabbarded sword protruded above each shoulder and a dirk hung at his hip. He wore no helm, allowing the world to see his sand-coloured hair, his beard, his face. He wore both hair and beard cut short and trimmed carefully. His stormy grey eyes scanned the room until they came to rest on the woman upon the dais. He removed his gauntlets as he walked toward one of the many stone benches populating the room.

“May I?”

He asked permission without a hint of mockery or ironic intent. Sela knew, somehow, if the woman said 'no', if she denied him this minor request, he would respect her will and remain standing. Saying 'no' would be petty, even when dealing with an enemy. The woman nodded, looking like she really didn’t want to. He nodded in return and sat on the bench. He placed his gauntlets beside him and exhaled a long, tired breath.

“How fare the people of Eden?” she asked him, folding her hands at her waist.

“Hale, insofar as they did not interfere with my objective,” he answered, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“Those who interfered?”

The man cocked an eyebrow in chastisement for an unworthy question. She moved on in the same vein.

“What is the disposition of Eden’s army and the temple guards?”

Palm open, he gestured at the empty space separating them. “I sit in this place with naught but air between us.”

Sela bit at her lip to stop from crying out and saw her mentor do the same.

Naught but air? Everyone? Her friends and even those she didn’t like so much?

“You live up to your reputation, Godkiller.”

He flinched slightly but didn’t reply. He just sat there, watching her.

After several heartbeats, she spoke again. “What is your objective?”

The anger in the last word surprised Sela. It was something she’d never heard from her teacher before. Even when Sela had broken a rule or done something stupid, the woman had never been angry.

“Since you speak my name, you are aware of my goal,” Godkiller answered. “The thing describes itself.”

The woman let out a high laugh to echo around the sanctum. “I am all that remains of this temple, Godkiller, and I am nothing but a priestess.”

The warrior shook his head, clearly disappointed. “Despise me. Curse me. Wish ten thousand years of fire and damnation upon the soul of my dead mother for birthing me, but do not lie to me, Goddess.”

“It’s a title, you fool.”

He snorted a soft chuckle but declined to reply.

“I know why you’re here,” she said. “I know why you razed this city, terrorized its people, murdered the men and women who stood up to protect what they hold dear. What do you hope to achieve by fulfilling the promise of your name?”

The man stared up at her for a time. Silent. His face looked like he was thinking about something or trying to come up with the right answer to a question he’d asked a thousand times before.

“An end to stagnation, Goddess. An end to you and the other Doctrines. Look at the people of this city. Some all but worship trees, others stone or the sun or the wind or the rain. All aspects of you. All relying on your benevolence. All subject to your will. You want to know why I do what I do? What I must?” he paused and looked at her, confusion clear on his features. “I bring liberation.”

The woman shook her head sharply, her eyes open wide, anger clear in them.

“Liberation? Do you pretend not to know what happened in Nova after you killed Aleph?"

"I am fully aware of everything. I walked the streets, hauled bodies, and bandaged wounds." His voice was heavy, but the words sounded rehearsed. "The separation had unexpected impacts on—"

"Impacts? You call them impacts? You severed their connection to their Doctrine. Thousands went mad, thousands more died. You call this liberation?”

“The Doctrine of Progress–”

“Is no different from the rest,” she cut him off.

“Enough!”

Sela heard anger in his voice for the first time. He’d been calm through the conversation. To hear him shout startled her.

 “I didn’t come here to argue theology.”

Calmer now, the man turned his head towards the smashed door. He didn't shout, yet the deep baritone of his voice carried easily upon the still air.

“Sword bearer.”

A boy walked into the room. He was a lot older than Sela, though barely in his teens. His handsome face was unlined, without the slightest hint of facial hair. He carried something in his bent elbows, a long object wrapped in rough and dirty linen, and struggled with the weight of his burden. He wore a uniform but didn’t look like a soldier.

The boy looked around the room with wide eyes. He almost tripped when he saw the woman on the dais, but he steadied himself and stopped before the man on the bench. Godkiller stood and gently gripped the boy’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

“Be calm, Regret. Our path is righteous.”

The boy nodded, but Sela saw he was doubtful. His eyes still darted about, and he licked his lips too often.

Godkiller slowly unwrapped the object in the boy’s quivering arms. An eternity seemed to pass before the warrior lifted an ugly black sword into the air. It was an unforged sword and didn’t even look sharp. It was dull and flat and didn’t glint in the light. Its surface was dark and dense and brooding. It looked a mean, nasty weapon.

“Long ago, I heard a rumour of a rare type of rock which possessed extraordinary properties.”

The man spoke in a conversational tone, as if they were discussing a unique blend of grapes in a fragrant new wine.

“For over a decade, I made the rumour my guiding light. I read and travelled and spoke to wise women and men from different Doctrines all over the world. All in pursuit of this rock. I found it. Do you know where?”

The goddess didn’t answer. She just watched the man on the floor below with cold eyes.

“Off the southern coast of Reclamation,” Godkiller went on. “Not a dozen leagues from the fair city of Eden.”

Sela watched the woman’s eyes widen at the information. The stone for the wretched weapon coming from close to her city seemed to terrify her.

“In truth, the basalt makes for a terrible sword. Unwieldy. More blunt object than refined weapon. Imagine my surprise when I learned the tales of its efficacy in other regards were true.”

“It took what seemed an age to kill Aleph. One wound after another, weakening him before me, sucking the strength from he who I’d admired my whole life. When he fell to his knees, all I saw on the face of a god, my god, was confusion. Confusion. No god, no goddess, should experience confusion.”

“I am not confused, Godkiller.”

He stopped admiring the sword and turned to face her. He gestured towards the foot of the dais, indicating the time had arrived for her to descend.

“I don't tell you this story to be cruel or to demonstrate my own conceit. No, I tell you, so you’ll know what will happen. When you die, this sword will sever your people's connection cleanly. There will be suffering, but Eden will not experience the horrors of Nova."

"You make it sound a gift."

"This was never personal. It was inevitable. Like this stone sword, I am a tool for the greater good.”

She moved for the first time since the initial strike of the battering ram against the temple door. Her steps down the stairs were slow and deliberate, each taken with both pride and purpose. She took each tread with the grace and dignity Sela had always seen from her. Her features were calm. She displayed not the least trace of fear. Sela’s heart ached at the knowledge she was about to lose the teacher she loved, but she’d been told to stay where she was and remain hidden and she would not disobey on a day like today.

Six eyes watched Goddess take those final steps. Godkiller’s were perfectly emotionless, cold. The sword bearer’s were fearful and blinking. Sela was sure anyone would see the confusion and fear in her eyes.

Why does this have to happen? Why couldn’t we convince him not to kill her?

“I ask of you one boon,” the Goddess said as she stopped before the man.

Godkiller hesitated, then nodded.

“I ask, upon my death, you leave this temple immediately.”

“Upon my honour,” he answered with a nod.

In a single smooth motion, he swung the strange basalt sword horizontally. The effort to swing it with enough force perpendicular to his body must have been immense, but the sword struck true. If the woman were the mortal priestess she had claimed, the dull stone blade would have broken her neck, smashed blood vessels and shattered vertebrae in a violent, blunt force impact. Instead, the blunt sword cut cleanly through the goddess’ neck, neatly severing her head from her body, both of which hit the white floor a moment later. The head rolled, once, to face away from the wall of vines.

Sela bit down on her lip to hold in a gasp as tears tracked down her cheeks. Promised though Godkiller was, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself until after he was gone.

She needn’t have worried about the noise, however. The sounds of Regret retching would have smothered her soft gasp. The boy covered his mouth and retreated to the far side of the temple to vomit against the wall.

Godkiller ignored the boy and stared down at the unforged sword. Sela focused her attention on it but was too far away to figure out what he was watching. He thrust the weapon out towards Regret when he’d recovered, and the boy immediately wrapped it in linens.

“We are finished here,” Godkiller told Regret. “Inform the generals we leave Eden as soon as his men have loaded the contents of the treasury aboard the ships.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell them not one person sets foot in this temple after we leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

Regret moved towards the exit but paused after a step.

“Sir?” he asked. His voice was soft, almost too soft to be heard from Sela’s hiding spot.

“Yes?”

“What will they do now? The people of Eden. Now you ... now their goddess is dead?”

“They have no Doctrine now, Regret. Without the goddess, the Doctrine dies, too. The people can choose to live, or they can choose to die.”

Die.

Sela flinched at the word and let the thread of vine she was holding go. There was enough room to see the two still in the temple.

All of Eden could die. Without Nature to support them, would they be able to survive? What would happen to the farms and the gardens? What would happen to the animals people kept?

Regret didn’t move. He just stood staring at Godkiller. Sela couldn’t see enough of his face to make out his expression.

“You have doubts about what we accomplished here? In this city and in this temple?"

“It was so beautiful.” Regret nodded as he spoke. “It was all so beautiful. The buildings. The walls. The harbour. This temple. Everything was so beautiful. We destroyed it.”

“Give me the sword, Regret,” Godkiller said, extending his hand.

The boy recoiled at the order and clutched at the weapon. The general sighed at the response, then spoke more softly.

“I will take the sword. Stay here for a while and enjoy the beauty, but do not tarry overlong. I expect the treasury will be loaded within two bells, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered, visibly relaxing, and handed over the wrapped sword.

The commander turned and strode from the temple, leaving Regret behind.

Regret looked around the temple slowly, his gaze pausing on the vine wall in which Sela hid before moving on to the paintings and sculptures decorating the space. He stared up at the top of the dais upon which rested the throne of Nature then lowered his head to look upon the body on the floor.

Regret stepped around the body and the small pool of blood. His foot brushed an object on the floor, and he jumped. He crouched down and picked up the doll Sela had dropped earlier. He turned it over in his hands as he examined it, his eyebrows twisted up as if in thought.

Sadness overwhelmed Sela, her throat tightening up and her eyes blinking rapidly. Not only had she lost the woman who was like a mother to her, but she was also going to lose her doll, one of her only possessions, too. A single soft sob escaped her lips.

Regret looked over to the vine wall again, studying it for a moment before stepping over. Carefully, he brushed aside leaves and flowers until he was suddenly face to face with Sela. Up close, even with the uniform reminding her of Godkiller, he was a cute boy. His hair touched with a hint of red and bright blue eyes.

“Hi,” he said, offering a small smile.

“They’re dying.”

“Who is dying?”

She gestured to the wall garden. “The plants. The flowers. They’re all dying.”

He followed her wave and looked to the plants growing from the wall. What had started as a slight rumple in the leaves had slowly turned to a soft yellow, then to a deeper tone. The flowers were wilting and falling to the tiles around the pair. The entire garden wall was withering up as if scorched by the sun on the hottest summer day.

“You killed her,” Sela said to Regret. “You killed Nature.”