24. Elzora
24
ELZORA
I stare at the impossibility that’s occurring. Ryes, my lovely, kind air witch is staring back at me in confusion. His face looks adorable, the expression so very him , as he tries to comprehend what’s wrong with me.
But what he’s missing is that the face he’s wearing, that the body he is in, is not his own. Because where it should be Ryes whose face is scrunched up that way, it’s Zohar’s who looks back at me.
“ZoZo, did you hit your head? You’re panicking me,” Ryes murmurs, brushing my hair out of my face so gently. But his touch is so wrong—his fingers thicker than usual, his hands softer. The dark skin of his hands causes my stomach to lurch. “Talk to me!”
“I—” The words die in my throat. How do I explain? How can I get him to understand that the tender concern in his eyes doesn’t match him but Zohar?
“Zohar!” Ryes’s call is more of a desperate scream as it echoes through the living room. I remain frozen, watching, trying to reconcile my reality.
Did I really hit my head this hard?
Or… or is this some kind of magicael backlash from something I’ve messed up?
The sound of multiple portals opening splits the air. Not one but three of my men rush over to us, panicked expressions on two of their faces and annoyance on the third. Necos and Mael portalled in separately, and they’re both very anxious, whilst Ciar’s expression is etched in frustration.
Oh, no.
Whilst the three of them are a group that’s not totally uncommon to be found together, none of them are who they look like, and it’s making my magicae twitch uncomfortably.
Or at least, I don’t think they’re themselves. The expressions are wrong, the energy is wrong.
“What the fuck has happened to us?” Ciar demands. That’s clearly not him. My dark witch would never talk to me that way, not with that look in his eyes.
It’s Etrix, maybe. Then again, it could also be Mael, and he’s just panicked.
“Who are you all?” I ask softly. I cringe as I push to my feet, and Ryes jumps up to his feet next to me to help me stand up. He doesn’t complain when I put most of my weight on him, and he holds me carefully as if afraid I’m going to collapse.
I don’t blame his concern. Blood has soaked through my shirt, the crimson stains spreading far wider than the actual wound on my arm warrants. Each breath I take sends sharp twinges through my chest, and black spots dance at the edges of my vision.
I wonder what he’s sensing from Zohar’s magicae—if anything.
Under normal circumstances, I'd be mortified that a simple fall did this much damage. But now, with how wrong my magicae has gone, the pain feels deserved.
A punishment to show just how badly I’ve lost control of everything.
“I’m in Ciar’s fucking body,” Etrix says, proving me correct, as he sneers in the way that only a royal prince could. “Why the fuck am I him?”
“He’s you, too,” Etrix says, appearing in a beam of light. Wait, no, Ciar says. This is already hurting my aching head as I try to keep track of which of my men is who.
“Oh, no,” I repeat, my eyes wide as I take in each of the men in front of me, that knot of dread tightening in my tummy.
“Oh, yes,” Ciar says with a taunting smile directed to his own body as he immediately decides to rile up the light witch. “I didn’t realise your dick was this small, Etrix.”
“Why the fuck you touching my cock?” Etrix demands, glaring at the dark witch. Or is he glaring at the light witch? Goodness, I can’t keep up. “I can safely say I didn’t decide to go wanking off your cock when I realised I was you.”
I grimace and lean back into Zohar—no, Ryes—for support. I feel woozy, and I don’t think it can entirely be blamed on the blood loss.
“I’m Jasper,” Necos says, raising his hand, looking around the group with an amused expression. “But I don’t think Necos is me.”
“We’re each other?” Ryes demands slowly. I nod my head against his chest. “And out of everyone, I got Zohar ? Why the fuck am I stuck with him? I could’ve been someone so cool.”
“What the fuck did you do?” Jasper asks, and he’s no longer amused—he’s sneering at me as if I’ve just ruined his life. Somehow, that expression on Necos’s face hurts so much more than it would have if it came from Jasper’s own body.
Tears well up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I caused this, and I can’t cower away now.
“I cast for balance and harmony,” I say, the words scraping against my throat. Each heartbeat pounds against my already aching temples, my guilt thrumming steadily beneath my skin.
Around me, faces I love wear expressions on their faces that I have never seen before. Necos’s usual distant professionalism is tainted with Jasper’s icy expression. Ciar’s devoted intensity twisted into Etrix’s royal disdain.
And the amount of annoyance that is directed towards me from men who have offered to literally kill anyone who even utters a bad word against me… it’s something I’m not used to.
The weight of their stares settles like stones in my stomach. These are my men, my loves, but right now, they feel like strangers.
It hurts.
“But, Zohar, ZoZo? You’d really pick him for me? I could’ve had someone so much better,” Ryes whines, waggling his brows at Zohar.
My air witch leans down to kiss my cheek, a familiar gesture made foreign by Zohar’s body. The rough scratch of stubble against my skin startles me—Ryes’s kisses have always been smooth, gentle. This small difference, more than anything, drives home what I’ve done.
I’ve broken everything. I deserve their anger.
“You and Zohar are two very opposite men, just like Ciar and Etrix are. Logically, it makes sense based on what I cast for,” I offer quietly.
“I do not agree with that assessment in the slightest,” Etrix sneers, and it’s so cute on Ciar’s face. Ciar does not sneer that way, not even a little bit.
“Wait—you beamed here, Ciar,” Mael says with a frown. He turns to look at Etrix’s body and raises a brow.
“Who are you?” I ask, not able to easily identify him like I could Ryes and Etrix. He’s not Mael, but it’s hard to differentiate him from the others.
“Eirik,” he says almost dismissively, his mind focusing on something else. We watch as he produces a very large fireball. “Oh, wow.”
“What?” I demand, confused as to what has happened. I clutch at Ryes’s arm—well, Zohar’s—and try not to think about how it’s hairier than it should be.
My head is pounding.
“We’re not just in their bodies, mo sholas .” Ciar’s words come from Etrix’s lips, and the air shimmers seconds before I feel the familiar light magicae. Etrix—well, Ciar— appears right in front of me in a beam of light so bright it makes me squint.
But it’s not the impressive use of magicae that has me holding back the impulse to throw up but the fact that my shadow-wielding dark witch should not have access to these kinds of abilities.
Etrix’s amber eye twinkles with Ciar’s mischief as he adds, “We have their magicae. Luckily for me, light magicae is pathetically easy to master.”
The air grows heavy with dark energy as Etrix—trapped in Ciar’s body—now realises that he can have some fun with his new reality and flexes with his borrowed powers. Shadows curl around his fingers, a small smirk tilting his lips up. “You’re one to talk, you play with fucking shadows for a living. Bit embarrassing, really.”
His tone might be full of bitterness, but I can feel the flutters of excitement through our bond. He’s curious despite himself.
“You’ve both got embarrassing powers,” Jasper says, his tone so much drier in Necos’s husky voice. “Children can create shadows with light— humans can even do it. ”
Cackles emerge around the room, and my stomach drops as I watch them all begin to experiment with each other’s powers.
I can’t bring myself to find anything good about this, not as the knowledge of what I’ve done has truly sunk in. Raw light magicae is in the hands of my dark witch— a type of magicae that can literally kill him. Would it in this form? I have no idea, but I’m terrified as Ciar takes the risk.
The possibilities, the dangers… every breath I take multiplies the dizzying thoughts in my mind, and I can’t function past the anxiety.
“Oh, no,” I whisper, my eyes darting between them as the blood drains from my face. “This is not good.”
“Zoe!” A familiar voice roars through the rooms, echoing off the walls. I cringe, knowing that Necos has figured it out, and by the sounds of things, he is not happy.
He appears in front of me, and, of course, he’s not himself. He’s Vexus, and honestly, this is the worst I’ve ever felt. Seeing such an annoyed expression on my upbeat soul witch’s face, directed at me, is the worst I’ve ever felt.
I want to be sick. Or cry.
Or cry whilst being sick.
The runes on his arms are lit up gold, and I know it’s because he’s truly so annoyed that he can’t contain it.
Oh, no.
“What have you done?” he demands, his voice sounding so strange with it being laced in anger. I’ve never, ever heard Vexus talk to me like this before. “I’m in Vex’s fucking body and can’t access my magicae at all.”
“She was seeking some balance and harmony,” Eirik says, unsurprisingly coming to my defence. He gives Necos a pointed look, and the two communicate using only their eyes—or mentally, I’m not too sure.
I don’t even try to hear them.
“Can you summon everyone here?” Ryes murmurs as the two of them get into a debate. “You’re struggling to stand, and I want Zohar to heal you.”
I nod slowly, tugging on the bonds I share with each of my men. Their runes light up, even the ones here, since I’m calling on each of them, and some warmth fills me at how instinctively they react.
It doesn’t take long for each of them to show up, but I finally relax when Zohar appears in Ryes’s form. His eyes widen, even if they’re not his, and I know he’s already adapted to the situation and can be calm about it.
“Can you help Ryes heal me?” The words come out thick and slurred. Blood loss or panic? I'm not sure anymore.
Zohar nods his head, moving to our side with the grace that usually belongs to Ryes. At least someone isn’t falling apart.
“It’s easy, Ry, don’t worry,” Zohar says, his voice gentle as he guides Ryes’s hands—his own hands, technically–to hover over my wound. “Just pull on your primordium —yes, just like that. Feel how it flows through you like water?”
“Mhm,” Ryes murmurs, and I’m surprised by the quiet awe in his voice.
“You’re doing perfect. Now imagine her arm healing, the blood returning to the inside of her body, her skin closing up.” Zohar pulls forth on Ryes’s magicae, and although it doesn’t heal me, the soft yellow glow in his hands as he moves it up and down my arm gives Ryes a visual indication of what to do.
My air witch immediately follows the instructions, and I rest back into him as some of the adrenaline starts to fade and the pain truly sets in.
“Good. Now, say ‘ sana’ as you work. Let your intent guide the magicae.”
Ryes nods jerkily, following Zohar’s instructions. I can feel it working almost instantly and relax as not only my arm and knees heal, so does my headache.
I’m still a bit unstable, but that’s clearly from panic rather than blood loss. Because, of course, that’s going to make it easier to handle this massive mistake I’ve made.
“How do you feel?” Ryes sounds nervous, and I take his hand in mine and kiss the soft, dark skin.
“I’m perfect. You did amazing.”
“Well done,” Zohar says, nodding at Ryes supportively. “She’s fine now. You managed perfectly.”
“I am,” I echo, and Ryes sighs in relief.
I squeeze his hand and kiss Zohar’s cheek—well, Ryes’s body’s cheek—before moving out of their cocoon of warmth and nonchalance. They’re the only two who don’t really seem to care about the change.
Ryes is even excited now that he’s adapted.
“Okay, everyone,” I call, raising my voice a little. It silences them almost immediately, though, and all nine pairs of their eyes come trained on me. “I messed up, and I’m sorry.”
“A sorry hasn’t fixed it, though,” Jasper mutters, giving me a glower from Necos’s body.
Is there a thing like body armour but for your soul? I’m far too sensitive for this kind of day.
“Which brings me to the next step,” I say softly. “Can we figure out who is who so I can try and undo it?”
“Zohar and Ryes are each other, as are Etrix and Ciar,” Eirik says, and I nod. Eirik is in Mael’s body, but Mael is not in Eirik’s.
“Where is Mael?” My eyes scan over the two familiar-yet-wrong faces before me, hoping he’ll just raise his hand and make this easier on me.
The silence stretches as neither man moves.
“Where do you think he is, princess?” The words come from Ciar’s lips, but the aristocratic drawl is pure Etrix. His earlier anger has transformed into a predatory sort of glee, like a cat with a new toy.
I have no idea why I expected anything different from any of my men. Now that the initial panic has gone, most of them are thrilled about this new development.
“I don’t like this game,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself. My discomfort only seems to amuse them more.
The remaining two men stand side-by-side, grinning at me as if this is a fun experiment and the world isn’t ending.
The casual way they’re handling this only heightens my anxiety. Don't they understand how dangerous things are?
Body-wise, I have Eirik and Jasper. People-wise, I have Vexus and Mael.
When I think about it, it’s not actually that hard. “Mael is in Jasper’s body. Vexus is in Eirik’s.”
“So very right, little love,” Vex says, beaming with Eirik’s smile. It’s so weird but also kind of endearing.
Mael just crosses his arms, sporting Jasper’s usual disgusted look as he refuses to acknowledge that I was right.
“How did you guess?” Zohar asks, coming to stand beside me. I reach down to squeeze his hand.
“Mael and Jasper have been having the most tension,” I murmur as Jasper immediately avoids eye contact, and Mael sneers that much more. “Eirik and Vexus are very oppositional.”
“Oppositional?” Eirik asks with a grin. Wait, no, Vexus asks. “It’s not my fault that your little princeling wears a stolen crown and acts so fucking righteous.”
“No, it might not be, but that doesn’t mean you’re better than him,” Etrix says, stepping forward as he gathers Ciar’s magicae. I can feel the swirling in the air, the pure lethalness that surrounds him.
It’s toxic, dangerous, powerful .
And so terrifying in the hands of a light witch with no experience.
I’ve messed up so badly.
“Do not do it,” I say, moving so I’m standing in front of Vexus. Etrix sighs, and the magicae instantly dissolves. The look of betrayal on his face hurts, though.
Everything hurts.
“I’m an emotional wreck, today. Can we please try and figure something out so that we stop with all the fighting? It’s…” I trail off and wipe my eyes, ignoring the pained expressions on some of my men at the sight of my tears. “It’s a lot.”
“What were your intentions earlier when you cast?” Eirik asks, stepping forward. His body is leaner as Mael, and his touch so different when he cups my cheek. Looking into his amber eyes and not seeing his usual icy grey eyes is so weird.
But I can tell in the softness of the smile, in the intensity in his gaze, that this is Eirik. Eirik, my royal prince, who adores me and loves me and only ever wants what is best for me.
Eirik, who would move heaven and Earth if it meant securing my happiness.
“I’m so chaotic. I feel anxious and out of focus, and I know part of this is because of the maturing, but I… it doesn’t help that we’re constantly at odds when we’re at home. Outside the house, we’re such a good unit, but here? Everyone seems to hate each other, and it’s killing me inside,” I whisper, feeling under scrutiny with so many eyes focused on me. “So I wanted to try and use my magicae to help calm my mind and stop it affecting me so badly.”
“Fuck,” someone mutters. It was low enough I didn’t catch who said it, but nearly all of my men seem uncomfortable with what I said.
“Oh, baby,” Mael whispers, and I flinch hearing it come from Jasper’s voice.
“Messing with your mind in such an unspecific way is very dangerous,” Eirik says just as softly as me. He cups my cheek, and I lean into his warm touch. He feels just like Mael but with all the comfort of Eirik. “You could’ve really hurt yourself, darling.”
I nod, ducking my head and letting my hair fall forward to cover my face as the tears fall. I didn’t mean to hurt myself, all I wanted to do was help myself. I tried so hard to keep it all in, to stop complaining and just do something .
I’m feeling so useless, and I’m in such a dysregulated state of mind that I can’t function with the threats happening, with the drama, with anything. I just… wanted to do something for once.
Instead, I’ve messed everything up and affected the people who are actually doing something. It was an accident, but I should’ve done better.
I should’ve known better.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes on the blood-soaked bottom of my t-shirt. I’m a mess, and they all know it.
“In terms of the body switch, this type of magicae has never happened before,” Necos says, stepping forward. His words sound very enunciated whilst he’s in Vexus’s body, and his smile is a lot more cheerful in this body. “But it’s safe to assume that only you will be able to undo it.”
I look over at Eirik’s body, wanting confirmation from Vexus. Mael—in Jasper’s body—kicks him to get his attention.
“What?” Vexus asks, and I know he’s not really been listening. I don’t know why, since the mental bond between us all seems a bit fractured since Ryes isn’t in control of it anymore, and I’m too chaotic to pick up thoughts right now.
“Do you know how to undo this?” I’m practically begging.
He shakes his head, grinning so mischievous. “Nope, but I’m in no hurry to undo it. I could do so much good in this body.” He snaps his fingers, and air rushes around the room, smashing the vases and rustling my hair. He tilts his head, and I know that he’s not bothered at all—truly, just focused on the new learning opportunities. “Well, once I refine it, anyway.”
“Let’s not mess with the magicae you can’t control,” Necos says, frowning at Vexus, in Vexus’s body. This is seriously messing with my mind.
“Definitely an upgrade from being a criminal’s kid, huh?” Jasper says dryly.
Etrix snorts. “I’d rather be Vex the criminal than an earth witch.”
I let out a long sigh because it’s like nobody even heard how much this is hurting.Zohar grabs my hand, rubbing soft circles into the back of my hand with Ryes’s slender fingers.
“Come sit,” he says softly, and I let him lead me over to the sofa. Ryes plops himself down on the floor, resting his head on my lap.
Instinctually, my hands move to his hair, but then I freeze. Zohar has an afro that is not suited for running fingers through it. “Sorry, Ry, but in this body, you get no hair scratches.”
“Fucking hell, Zohar,” Ryes groans, leaning his face into my thigh, groaning. “This is the worst thing about being you. I was happy until your fat head had to ruin it.”
“Sucks to be you,” Zohar teases before frowning. His head snaps over to where Mael is sitting. “That is fucking disgusting to say.”
“Wait, what?” Mael demands, his voice gruff in Jasper’s tone. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did,” Zohar protests.
“He probably didn’t,” Ryes says cheerfully. “That’s just their thoughts that you’re hearing. Fun stuff, honest.”
“Oh, Zo. It must be a hard adjustment,” I say softly. I reach for his hand and murmur, “ Silentium .”
“What the fuck did you just do?” Necos’s voice demands, and I freeze before remembering that he’s Jasper, and whilst it was a venomous bark, it wasn’t actually intended to be that way.
“She stopped me from hearing the thoughts,” Zohar says, smiling softly. “How?”
“She’s far more powerful than you,” Vexus says. In Necos’s voice, the words sound far more pompous than my soul witch would’ve intended. “It’s easy for her to take away your magicae if she wants to.”
“Only a cavea can do that,” Mael says. “Right?”
“No,” Vexus replies, and there’s another rush of air. He’s so distracted as he works with Eirik’s magicae.
“I wasn’t trying to take it,’ I say softly. “Just quiet the pressure in his brain so he can function. Ryes has had years to learn how to cope, and Zohar hasn’t.”
“You’ve helped wonderfully,” Zohar reassures me, and I squeeze his knee, cuddling into him more.
“Well, as fun as this is,” Etrix says dryly from Ciar's body, his borrowed shadows writhing restlessly around him. He looks over at Vexus, who's still playing with his new elemental magicae. “We can’t stay like this forever. We’ve got important shit to be doing.”
A harsh laugh cuts through the room—Mael’s amusement, in Jasper’s voice, the sound deep and twisted. My heart clenches painfully, and I avoid looking at him. “Imagine if Etonik summons his darling son today.”
The only thing worse than that bitter sound was the words accompanied by them. Some of the others join in on the laughter, the sound echoing off the walls in a cacophony of wrong voices, wrong bodies, wrong magicae.
It’s all wrong. Everything is wrong.
I can’t breathe.
The room starts to spin as the implications of my actions hit me.
They’ve got assignments. Dangerous ones.
Missions that require split-second reactions. And they have unfamiliar magicae.
Combat situations that require muscle memory. Memories their bodies no longer hold and could be the difference between life and death.
They could die.
They could die.
The truth crashes over me, a shiver wracking down my spine. I haven’t just messed up. This isn’t just a slight inconvenience.
I’ve handed each of them a weapon they don’t know how to use.
I’ve taken their power.
Their expertise.
Their lives.
I’m sending them into a battle they’re never going to win.
They’re going to die.
I’ve… I’ve condemned the men I love with my entire soul to death.
I burst into tears, my magicae exploding out of me in a wave of golden light that encases the entire room and the people within it.
There’s a loud cry—the distraught sound of the soul witch who has destroyed everyone she loved.
Again.