Her hood begins to burn bright and molds itself into a gleaming golden crown. Inch by inch, she transforms. A gold dress clings to her body, which is no longer that of an older woman. Her skin glows, her face is young, and her hair is long and blonde. She radiates light. When she holds up a shield, I know exactly who she is. We all do.

“The Lady,” I whisper to Braizen, who looks as mesmerized as I am.

Everyone drops to their knees in awe; even the Kings lower themselves and hold their arms towards her.

“Lady and Shield,” my father cries. “Forgive us, goddess, most gracious!”

She glides forward, the hem of her dress barely touching the dais steps where my mother’s lifeless body still lies.

“You have been warned not to swear to me. You have been taught in the Way, yet you both blaspheme as if they are commands. As leaders of your people, you ought to be ashamed. The poisons your tongues so readily spew!”

The two kings lie flat and shaking on the marble. Mumbled apologies rise from their mouths, but the Lady isn’t impressed. She faces the guests, and I hear sharp cries of fear.

“Ivar, you prayed to the Lady that Baelliles will be vanquished. To rid the world of their wicked Kingdom.” She flicks her wrist; her delicate fingers point toward the ceiling. One by one, people dressed in green grab their chest as if they’ve been stabbed and fall to the floor. My eyes stretch as far as they can go. She’s killing them.

“Pierced by their King’s deceit,” The Lady moans.

Braizen’s breaths grow heavy in horror, and we watch more bodies fall into piles.

“And Vaskis, you prayed to the Guard that Verdana would fall into the sea, yes?” Her eyes snap towards the entryway, and the door flies open. A giant man dressed in glittering armor steps through. He glows, just as she does, only it’s a cloud of silvery dust that surrounds him. He lifts his sword, and I wince as I hear it slice through the air. Braizen squeezes my hand so tightly I can no longer feel it. Groups of people dressed in blue clutch their throats, writhing and coughing as if they’re drowning.

“Mercy! I beg of you! Mercy!” From his prone position, my father shakes his clasped fists.

The Lady turns her attention back to our fathers and smiles.

“Stand. Now.”

They immediately obey her command, but they’re both trembling. King Vaskis’ jaw quivers relentlessly.

“I will not kill you for your sins, King Ivar of Verdana, and King Vaskis of Baelliles. But because of your blasphemy, I will curse your lands. I will ensure that your Kingdoms will not receive the peace you sought after!”

She raises a flattened palm, and heat roars through my body. Something urges me to rise. It calls to me, rise against her.