16. Elzora
16
ELZORA
“ I ’m sick of feeling so useless,” I mutter, and Anomus looks up from the book he’s reading and arches his brow at me. I hate the way he does it so effortlessly, no judgment on his face as he regards me.
I should be judged. I wasn’t meant to say that out loud, and I’m whining to my… uncle about it.
“Why do you think you’re useless?” he asks, closing his book and shadow moving it over to the table.
Should the weight of him giving me his full attention give me butterflies? I don’t know, but it does.
“Maybe because I’m so far behind in magicael knowledge? Because I’m constantly crying or having a panic attack? Because I do silly things over and over in ignorance? Because I can’t just…” I sigh, rubbing at my chest, where the small soul rune from Vexus has settled.
It’s still new, but it feels so right, so perfect.
“I’m a liability,” I admit, hanging my head a little, knowing that if he’s truly as protective as my men, he’s not going to like what I’ve said.
“Do you know why soul witches are killed?” he asks, moving to sit on my sofa, a thoughtful expression on his face.
I nod my head. “Because they’re powerful.”
“In a way, yes. Soul witches are powerful, and they can do things that no other witch can truly do, but a person’s power level doesn’t come from their magicae type,” he says. “You’re not this powerful because you’re a soul witch. Your primordium comes from your bloodline, your genetics, your use of it, even.”
“So, identical twins, for example, might have different magicae types but are likely to have the same strength primordium at birth?” I ask, scrunching my nose up.
My uncle nods his head. “Yes, exactly. Me, you, Etrix, Eirik, we’re royal witches, and we’re genetically built to hold more power. You as a woman statistically have a larger primordium than I do as a man.”
“And the more we use our magicae, the bigger our well becomes,” I say softly, piecing that part together.
There’s a big grin on his face as he rapidly nods his head. “Exactly. So the day your binding spell broke, Vexus probably had the capabilities of being a stronger witch than you. But then you started using your magicae daily, you started bonding with your mates, and you matured—all of these things strengthen your primordium .”
“I get that. So, then, why are soul witches being killed if everyone can just grow their primordium ?”
“Well, there are limits to that growth. Eventually, you hit your max,” he says. “But let’s keep the focus on you. Soul witches have the power to do so much that terrifies people. You can see the dead, you can travel to the otherworld, you can raise the dead, you can soul travel, find soul mates… souls are our life source, you know?”
“I get that, kind of,” I say. “But, to me, being burned alive is far more terrifying than finding someone’s soul mate.”
“Sure, Mael could burn someone alive and probably has,” my uncle says. “But could he wipe someone’s bloodline out in a matter of seconds without even touching them?”
I flinch, and my uncle leans in closer, his eyes seeming to darken.
“Could Ryes, your air witch, take over someone’s soul and command them like a puppet master?”
His dark magicae seems to fill his aura, the room almost darkening, as the pressure of his words sink in.
“Could Zohar, your water witch, manipulate people’s dreams and trap them in an eternal torment?”
I want to let him know that Zohar can’t dreamscape, so couldn’t even enter their dreams at all, but it doesn’t seem important. Not when this horror that he’s describing is something I have the power to do.
I’d never… Vexus would never… but people like me, people with my power, could do it.
“It’s even believed that you can take a soul and merge it with your own, taking their magicae type, their memories… their primordium all for yourself,” he says, his words so low and terrifying that goosebumps spread across my skin, a shiver racing down my spine.
“We can’t do that,” I say in a nearly silent whisper, my fear pulsating inside of me.
The darkness fades from my uncle , and he nods his head as the energy in the room goes back to normal. “I know that, Elzora, but the people in our world do not. They listen to the fear mongering that’s shared, the lies and the exaggerations… they’re rightfully scared.”
“And yet, it’s people like me who pay the price,” I say sadly.
“No, love, it’s not people like you, nor is it people like Vexus,” he says, lifting my chin with his finger. “I won’t let you die, Elzora. But this fear is why witches like you are killed. Your power can be dark and deadly, but it can also be wonderful.”
The knot in my tummy tightens as I whisper, “Could it… could it taint me? Could I eventually do those things?”
I don’t know why I’m so at ease blurting out all my fears to this man because even if he’s my uncle, we’re not really family . We’re strangers to each other.
And yet, I feel completely safe and at ease with him.
“A soul as pure as yours?” Anomus asks, laughing lightly as his face completely softens. “No, Elzora, it could not. Your power is you, and you are good .”
“And yet, I’m useless when it comes to the important things,” I say quietly. “I have all this power, all these abilities that nobody else possesses, and I’m not strong enough to actually use them.”
“You’re not a fighter, Elzora,” he says. “But if you want to learn how to utilise your magicae properly, I’ve got just the person who can help you.”
“Why can’t you help me? You help Vexus.” Did he hear the whine in my words? The longing for this connection, for this support?
I’m remembering all the times I dropped in on my soul witch, and he was training. Training with Spyte… my uncle .
Anomus rolls his eyes. “You’d be far easier to train than Vex. He’s a… superbus .”
“Arrogant one?” I ask with a giggle. “He’s not arrogant. He’s… lovely.”
My uncle groans. “If I were around to raise you, trust me when I say you’d never need nine soul mates.”
I laugh, bringing my knees up to my chest. “You’re deflecting.”
“Am not.” He scrunches up his nose, and I laugh harder. “What?” There’s a pout on his face that mirrors my own.
“You scrunch your nose up when you lie just like I do.”
At that, he returns my grin. “Your dad did it, too. I used to try and train myself out of it, but now, I like that it’s something we both shared.”
“Do you miss him?” I can’t bring myself to look at him as I ask the question.
“Every single day,” he says quietly. “I miss them all, Elzora. My anima nexum , my brothers, my sisters… I miss the family you should’ve had.”
“The family we both should’ve had,” I murmur. I reach for his hand, letting my magicae help soothe the pain on his soul as tears fill my eyes at his pain.
“Your little air witch mentioned something to me.”
I frown. “I’d be wary about agreeing to something Ryes could want.”
“I’ve picked up on that. However, this was about a concern he had about you.”
Why does the simple act of him caring give me butterflies?
“What is it?” I whisper, terrified to know what truth Ryes has found in my thoughts that I might not have even realised myself.
“He mentioned you’ve been wondering why I didn’t lose my mind when I lost your mum,” he says, and I freeze, pulling my magicae from him as I drop his hand. “I might have lost part of my soul that day, but the thing is Exsern never held my entire soul the day she died.”
“Then who held part of it?” I whisper. My mouth feels dry, my heart racing so much that palpitations seem to echo inside my mind.
“You, lux animula mea ,” my uncle says softly. “In bonded circles like ours, a child born to a union in the bonded group is a child of the group. Biologically I’m your uncle, but magicaelly… I’m just as much your father as your dad is.”
He called me his little soul light, and it’s such a dark witch kind of nickname for someone they love. I don’t know how to process this, how to feel about everything.
This man is believed to have killed my parents. I know that’s not true. I can feel his authenticity, his lack of bonds, his pain at them being gone—and there’s not a single dark mark on his soul that could be because of this.
No, my uncle… my dad? … Anomus is a good man. A pained man, someone who has faced a lot alone .
But, at his core, he’s a good man who loves me.
I can feel how deep it goes into his very being—his love, his devotion, his… obsession .
My uncle’s… my dad’s entire reason for living is… me.
It should be a heavy weight, but it’s not.
“You stayed healthy because of me?” I ask, looking up at him as tears drip down my cheeks. He nods his head, tears in his eyes, too. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He shakes his head, wiping away his tears, as he gathers a surge of strength from within. “Don’t be sorry, Elzora. You saved my life, and now, I get to be here and help you live yours.”
He reaches over and wipes my tears, and I let my magicae soar between us with the connection. We’re quiet for a moment, and it feels nice—bonding, even.
“For now, though, let’s pause this conversation here,” he says, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Every conversation I have brings more questions.” I huff out a sigh. “I don’t want to stop now that we’re finally talking things through and I’m getting actual answers.”
His eyes twinkle. “I’m not going anywhere, lux animula mea, so we’ll have forever to answer them.”
“Everyone says that, and then they seem to die,” I mention, and he gives me a sad smile. I don’t push, knowing it’s futile, and honestly… my brain needs time to process this information drop. “Why won’t you train me like you train Vexus, then?”
“Vexus is learning how to use his magicae to fight, Elzora. That’s not what you need to learn,” he says. “Right now, you need to learn how to survive.”
“I need Vex to survive, too,” I say quietly. “I can’t lose any of them.”
“And you won’t. But your other men, Elzora, they already know how to survive. You don’t, not intentionally, anyway. Don’t get me wrong, when you give into your magicae and let it guide you, you have an amazing natural instinct. But you don’t know how to rely on that.”
I frown. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Think of when your men go off on a case. Do they seem different to you?”
“More focused,” I say, thinking about it. “They’re calm and just seem to know what to do. They’re more powerful, in a way, maybe. As if their magicae is just there .”
Anomus grins. “Exactly! They know how to prepare themselves for survival—for entering the animus bellatoris— and you don’t.”
“The animus bellatoris ?” I ask, confused. The warrior mind?
“That’s the specific term that we’re referencing. You need to be able to enter that state of mind at will, not just in a life and death situation. Your men, they can do that. They know how to utilise their magicae to their advantage, the best ways to direct their abilities, and they even know their limits.
“So, my dear daughter, before you can learn how to fight , you need to learn how to survive ,” he says, pulling me to my feet, an excited energy filling him.
His energy is infectious, and I can’t help the giddiness in my steps as I follow alongside him. We come to a stop inside one of the training rooms. It’s a little busy in here, and he nods his head to those who wave or greet him, but otherwise, he doesn’t stop.
I lag behind, anxiety churning away, replacing the excitement I was feeling, at the eyes on us. My… dad leads me to an empty training mat and gestures for me to get inside.
I don’t sense Vexus or Zohar here and have a glance around the room, just in case I’ve missed them, but they’re not here. I wonder where they might be training instead.
I can feel the energy thrumming through them both, and I know they’re using their magicae together, and they’re having a good time.
I kind of wish there was a familiar face around whilst I was doing the same.
“Get in,” my dad commands when I still don’t move. My legs tremble as I move into the ring, but to my surprise, he enters with me and sets the wards around us both.
I don’t know what the controls he’s using do, but before my eyes, mannequins start appearing around us. They’re strange because I can sense they’re not real, but they’re filled with magicae.
No specific type, and they look human. They’re all wearing the same uniform that I’ve seen people at this compound wearing and vary in heights and expressions.
There’s a dark flash on the floor, and it’s strange the difference that is now in the mannequins. I can sense different types attached to them. Some are light witches, some dark, all the elements are represented. There’s no time here and no soul, but all fourteen of them are magicael now.
I’m so curious about the mechanics of it all.
“I want you to let your magicae guide you, Elzora, into taking down the dark ones,” Anomus says. He steps out of the ring, but the wards that surround us still contain him. He swings the controls to face him and presses another couple of buttons.
I frown, moving towards the centre of the ring, as these mannequins start moving around me. They start rotating around, jumping, crouching, hurling… nothing .
I pull on my magicae, and focus on taking down the dark mannequins, but nothing really happens. My magicae doesn’t know how to respond because they’re not doing anything.
“Why are you just standing there, Elzora?” Anomus calls.
I shrug. “I can’t… I don’t see the point in this. They’re not really attacking, and my magicae doesn’t see the… harm in leaving them as is.”
He grins. “Then I suppose we need to up the ante, don’t we?”
I miss what he does because in a matter of seconds a beam of light is thrown at me, and I drop to a crouch to avoid it. There’s a hissing sound from behind me, but my legs are swiped out from underneath me before I can even turn.
My head smacks onto the mat, surprisingly not hurting much, as I get drenched in a bucket— or pool— of water. My teeth start to chatter as the life-like mannequins continue attacking me.
“Fight, Elzora! Stop just lying there!”
I flinch at the frustration in Anomus’s words and try my best to pull on my magicae to get it to help me. But every time I think about doing something, I’m drenched, or blown to the side, or my entire body heats up.
They’re not hurting me. They’re just… taunting me.
I don’t know how long I lie there, pathetically unable to fight back, but all it does to my morale is confirm what I already knew: I’m useless.
“Okay, enough,” my dad calls, and the mannequins stop what they’re doing, returning to a standpoint, and all the dirt, waters, and even sand disappear.
“What happened there?” he asks, moving into the ring to offer me a hand up.
I can’t meet his eyes, not after hearing his constant disappointment during that embarrassing fight. “Even when I focus on hurting or taking down any of the mannequins, I’m getting attacked before I can actually do any damage to them. I can’t focus enough to do it.”
“There’s no real threat to your life there, which is a big reason I wanted to do this experiment.”
“To prove I’m useless?” I whisper.
His eyes widen, his jaw dropping, and there’s a true expression of horror on his face. “ That is what you thought I was doing?”
I wrap my arms around my waist, feeling so much smaller.
“Oh, lux animula mea ,” he whispers, pulling me in for a hug. His head rests on the top of mine, and I’m pressed into his warm chest. “I would never, ever , do something to belittle you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.” Can he tell I’m crying? Can he feel that I’m wetting his chest?
He squeezes me gently, and it’s almost tentative as he brushes a soft kiss to the top of my head. He’s as nervous about our new relationship as I am— wow .
“If I put any of your mates in this ring, they’d have managed to… neutralise those mannequins within a matter of seconds. They don’t need to be in the fight-flight-or-freeze mode in their nervous system to react in the fifth mode. You do, for now.”
“So, I need to learn how to tap into that feeling, even when I’m just being teased?” I whisper.
He nods against the top of my head. “Yes. Right now, there’s no point teaching you how to fight because unless your life, or one of your mate’s lives, or even someone you care about, is at risk… you’ll not be able to get past the panic or the freeze .”
“Oh.” I pull back a little to look up at him, noting the concern etched into his expression. “I understand, now.”
“You’re not someone who truly values yourself, lux animula mea ,” my dad says softly, and I flinch at the truth of his words as they echo around the ring. “But think of your mates, who need you to survive, who need you to make it home to them. Think of your kingdom and the people who are being harmed on the daily because you’re not at the head. Think of the soul witches being born and brutally being murdered because you’re not able to protect them against the wickedness of King Etonik. That’s the kind of mentality you need when in this ring, when in any fight.”
I nod my head, pull my shoulders back, and connect with my primordium.
“Let’s go again,” he says with a smile. It’s like his pep talk was exactly what I needed to get my magicae to obey because when he starts the machine back up, and I start to get attacked once more, it’s completely different— I am completely different.
I start to really move, completely in tune with my abilities, and I actually attack .
It’s like a dance as I dodge the energy from the fake witches attacking me and returning their energy back to them twice fold. I think my dad is messing with the settings somehow because no longer are all of the mannequins witches or people wanting to hurt me, they’re sometimes innocent and need saving or they’re just random people walking by.
I don’t falter, I don’t get hurt, as I let my magicae guide me. We filter through their fake souls, and I just instinctively know what to do.
As my exhaustion grows because I do not have any true athletic skills, I launch a large attack of my own, wanting to end this.
My heart is pumping steadily, my veins coursing with a mixture of magicae and adrenaline, and when I unleash this wave of power, it does exactly I wanted.
And then some.
I somehow manage to short-circuit the entire system. The mannequins, their magicae, and the damage we caused in this battle, all disappear in a blink as the wards around us drop.
Oops.
I’m covered in sweat, my body absolutely aching, as I stand in front of my dad… but I’ve never felt more alive.
“I am so proud of you,” he cheers as the room explodes in claps.
My cheeks heat up so fast, and I can’t look away from Anomus. I can’t face all of these people who seem truly enamoured with what I’ve done.
“You’re more capable than you know, lux animula mea ,” my dad says softly. “But teaching someone to survive… well, there are better teachers on this compound that could help you harness your magicae so much better.”
“If you say so,” I say softly.
I do my best to ignore the people who are looking at us. I always seem to draw eyes on me, no matter what I do, and the way these people look at my dad is as if he’s their saviour—which, honestly, for a lot of them, he is.
But knowing their gaze is because of awe doesn’t make the attention any less unnerving, though.
“But right now, you’re exhausted,” my dad says, grinning at me. “So, we’re going to do some lighter work… unless you want to take a break?”
I shake my head. Part of me doesn’t want to leave my dad, not right now, not when we’re bonding in his world… not when I’m finally getting to do something.
“What can we do of the lighter variety?” I ask, biting my lip. I wring my hands together when his gaze turns scrutinising, and I don’t push his magicae away when I feel it brushing against me.
“Something that is very important is figuring out how to use the bonds you have with your men” he says.
“You need to learn how to utilise the mental part of our world,” Necos adds, and I turn in surprise to see my dark-skinned mate walking towards us. He’s wearing a pair of skin-tight shorts, that seem breathable and good for a workout, and a red t-shirt. Very dressed down for him, but appropriate for training. I smile at him tiredly, and he returns it. “You’ve got the potential of being a natural in the battlefield, Zoe, but the goal is that you won’t ever need to be in it.”
“So, you’re all going to do the hard parts whilst I hide out?” I mutter, not liking the sound of that in the slightest.
Necos grins at my dad, over my head, and I sigh. I don’t like the idea of the men in my life teaming up against me . It was so much better when they were all on my side.
“Yes,” they say as one.
I scowl, and Anomus laughs. “Elzora, my love, you’re not going to be hiding out—you’re going to be doing the hard parts. You’re so powerful, so capable, and we’re going to utilise that. But we’ll be doing it safely.”
“First things first, you need to go get yourself ready,” Necos says, looking me up and down with a pinch in his brows. “And then come back here properly.”
“I am ready,” I say, looking down at my leggings and t-shirt. They’re the proper spandex style ones that absorb sweat and fit nice and tightly. They’re a special kind, made from Etrix’s aunt, that even help absorb magicael energies so that anything being sent my way is less damaging to my primordium .
I’ve been wearing them the whole time I’ve been here, and my dad didn’t complain when I fought in it just now. I frown at Necos as his frustration grows.
My time witch’s eyes narrow, as do my dad’s, as the two men engage in some kind of staring contest as they… argue. I can’t hear any silent communication, but they’re clearly in a disagreement, and I can’t tell who is winning.
I tap my foot on the floor, looking between the two of them with a raised brow, when it continues past a minute or two. Neither one speaks, but they both give me their attention, and I hold in my groan. “Are we going to now do something or…?”
“Of course,” Anomus says with a nod. He leads Necos and I over to another training mat, not seeming to care about the one I broke. He does the same thing he did before, raising wards around us, and stands in front of the console.
Necos heads into the centre of the mat, gesturing for me to come by his side.
“I’ve worked with Vexus extensively on his own brands, and he knew what each rune did. So it’s time to figure out what the ones your men have do and how we can utilise them.”
“I do, too,” I say, not liking the implication that I don’t know something. Which is silly, since I barely know anything . “I just need to touch one magicaelly, and I can feel its purpose.”
Necos nods. “That’s understandable, but yet, you don’t use them.”
I frown, looking between Necos and my dad. “Why would I? The storing magicae is helpful when it comes to my outbursts, but I can’t imagine a use for it any other time.”
“There are uses for that outside of your anxiety attacks, Zoe,” Necos says. “But that is only one rune out of them all. Today, we’re going to catalogue every one of my runes, and then you’re going to write at least three uses per rune before our next session.”
I nod my head slowly. “And the others?”
“Are they all different?” my dad asks, his eyes darting to Necos before falling on me.
“Not all the runes are different,” I say, wrapping my arms around my waist. It feels like I’ve done something wrong, and I don’t like the discomfort this… inquisition is causing. “There’s overlap between each of my men, for sure, but I wouldn’t give a fire witch the same runes as a water witch. It would be limiting.”
“I see. So, you need to catalogue each of us,” Necos says, and I nod slowly.
“And the bond with Vexus? You gave him new runes, too.”
I can’t help but grin. “I think he’ll be the most diverse. I don’t know.”
“We’ve been theorising over it,” Necos says. “I thought you might just recharge the ones he’s already done.”
My magicae is growing restless. I’ve just had a really magicaelly charged battle, and now we’re standing talking—and I get the feeling I’m being doubted.
“Her magicae is far too possessive for that,” Anomus says with a laugh.
“For now, since I’m here, let’s work on mine. I want you to identify a rune without touching it,” Necos says firmly. “And we’ll talk about what it does and how you could use it.”
“ Ostendere ,” I say as Necos’s runes appear in the air in front of us. I point to the first. “Shield.”
“And that does?” Necos asks.
“Creates a protective barrier around you,” I say, marvelling at the magicae within. “It’s made of soul magicae and should be able to sustain a couple of hits and buy you time.”
I shiver at the thought of why he’d need this kind of thing.
“Can you think of three ways to utilise this?” Anomus asks.
“Well… it’s a shield, so use it when under attack?” I offer with a frown. “When else would it be useful?”
“It could be used as part of an offensive strategy rather than defensive,” my dad offers. “Depending on the intent when using it, you could use it to shield you from sight and buy you a few moments to build your plan.”
“It could serve as a shield for someone else and not just me,” Necos adds. “If I’m with someone else who can’t use their magicae, then this is something that could benefit.”
I nod slowly, looking at the floating runes above our heads. “We kind of just established the same use of the rune, though, and just used it in different contexts.”
“How about instead of just identifying ways to use the rune, you think about ways that you could develop it,” Necos suggests, and I turn to face him properly with a grin.
The thing I like best about Necos is his intellect. He’s smart and is an amazing teacher—when I don’t need to worry about outing myself. Being here with him, when he adapts his teaching style to fit my needs and concerns, it’s so energising.
I love to learn, and this is the perfect way to do so.
I hold up three fingers. “We could see how many hits it can last for.” I put my middle finger down. “We could see if specific types of spells drain it faster.” I put my index finger down. “And we could see if it’s more powerful when I call it from you or when you do it yourself.”
“Very good,” Necos says with a proud smile. “And that is something we’ll work on. What about this one?”
He gestures to a smaller, circular rune that I know is for him specifically.
“ Circulus ,” I offer with a small smile. “Loop.”
“And it does…?” my dad asks, tilting his head in a way I know that I do, too.
“Come on, Anomus,” Necos says with a smirk. “It clearly loops time.”
My dad lets out a huff. “I figured. But why would you need a rune that can do that when you have that ability already?”
Both men turn to me, and I shrug. I can guess, but it’s not like I consciously placed all of these runes on his body.
“Because this wouldn’t drain his primordium . It might not be as powerful or last as long, but this is an additional burst of power for him.”
“A lot of these will be like that,” Necos says, and I nod.
“ Movetempus, tardus, festino, gelo, praeteritum, futurum ? —”
“ Futurum ?” Necos echoes. “I’ve got a rune that lets me see the future?”
“That’s not possible,” my dad says, shaking his head. I try to not let his doubt upset me. “Only an oracle witch?—”
“Guilty,” I say, blushing as his eyes widen. “But that’s a rune you have access to, yes.”
“And how could we develop this?” Necos asks.
“Test whether your intention will guide it,” I say, thinking it over. “You could see how long the visions last. It’s also one I could trigger and see if I can guide my natural abilities rather than having them come at random.”
“Those would all be very helpful things to know,” my dad says softly. “You’re a powerful witch, lux animula mea .”
I look over at him with a smile. “I’m glad I’m doing something useful now.”
My… dad and I share a look, and those butterflies flutter inside once more. I’ve been wondering if it’s weird, but I think it’s normal.
I so desperately want to know him, so desperately want him in my life… and I’m terrified that he’s going to be snatched away like every other member of our family before now.