Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
I whip my head toward the terrace as a wave of power I had felt a couple days ago once again hits us. A group of mages line the edge of the terrace all readied with their magics, but this wave. . .
Mavyn stands near the edge where she had been before.
I had told her to not interfere, which I know was a mistake, but she is still recovering.
Not all of her ribs are fully healed and the healers said she’d need at least a week of having a good sleep schedule before they could even be okay with saying she’s alright.
That doesn’t even include whatever other pain she was induced to because of her nightmares or the sun death realm before the Willow of Lore ceremony.
Her dark hair lays in waves down her back. The ends freshly colored sapphire blue and rosy pink. But even from here I can see her eyes are dark red.
I face the oncoming rebels and allow Varian into my mind to link us together.
His brother had shattered Darian and Uncle Jerusil’s shields and some sort of being rains fire on us.
Select shields are placed back up as Thorne draws from the already brewing storm and cracks a dozen bolts of lightning throughout the field.
There had been select beings running faster past their first line of rebels, but now they hang back as that front line comes to greet us.
They’re planning something, the Dean shouts through our mind as thunder nearly makes us go deaf. For the love of gods and goddesses, Kyros, keep the sound actually facing the rebels.
Darian chuckles and a migraine is starting to form as all the minds within me conjoin together. He doesn’t say anything but thoughts that are not mine keep fluttering. Blocking them out as best I can, I focus on what is happening ahead.
Castiel and Thorne are the furthest out in the very front greeting the first line of rebels.
Their weapons drawn and slicing as the rebels meet them.
Varian stays towards the western side as the front line of rebels spreads sideways.
Their numbers seeming to come out of nowhere.
Much more than there had been two days ago.
My father and Thorne’s handle those that past Thorne and Castiel, with Darian and his father keeping hold of shields and Darian occasionally blasting them with his sound element.
Rosenbail of Maril steps up with me watching the fight begin. Both of us at the very back.
On Earth she had gone by Rosemary, but on Miy she is known as that.
Attending Syngenia with Ms. Elaycia and was one of the first goblin war leaders with an intellect and charm that made her the best. Rumor was she became one of the first spies for the Mage Board before disappearing off the face of the world. Literally – since she left this world.
I know she has a glamour on hiding her true body, but this one looks like it would be just a force. As tall as me with a silver breastplate and mask I’d be wary of if I saw against me. Not that they’re entirely scary looking, but her aura pulses with a controlled violence.
“You know Mavyn will not sit by and watch.” Her voice light and almost twinkling. “You would have had a better luck knocking her out and locking her in a room. She was trained by all three of us.”
I glance at her but only for a moment to keep my eyes on the battle.
All of them out there are so formattable, most of them with experience.
But there are still rebels who slip through.
In the back of my mind I hear Varian rumbling orders and checking in with all of them. Spread out through the field.
“She’s back up there on the terrace, isn’t she?”
She hadn’t made a move to change or get ahold of weapons. Though with just the bit that I have felt from her aura I wouldn’t think she necessarily needs weapons. She is a weapon.
Rosenbail hums. “You do not know yet, but I think you will. You are fated but there is not a sealed bond between you two. You have not seen her soul.”
I take my eyes off the battle to snap them at her. How could she have known that?
“When she first came to us I thought she was human with how she felt. No aura, barely any sparks of magic, eyes the lightest shade of pink I have ever seen. Not even Esmirra could tell. And then she told us what she did to that devil and mage who hurt her.”
I process what she said and shake my head. “What are you talking about? Mavyn was human.”
I can feel Varian at the back of my mind listening. Thorne too, even though they’re both preoccupied with the many people they’re currently fighting.
There’s another boom from where magic was able to get past Darian’s shields but I can’t even look at it. Rosenbail is shaking her head at me with furrowed brows.
“Mavyn was human,” I repeat. I’m realizing now I never told Elaycia and Esmirra what happened.
None of them know Mavyn was turned. “She said she had been attacked by a vampire on her birthday who shoved vampyr blood and venom into her and turned her into a vampire. That’s why she’s here.
The Mage Board gave her a choice of graduating the school or death because she didn’t have bloodlust.”
There’s another blast that shakes the ground and then a rumble of that death damnation aura.
Rosenbail actually laughs at me as aura responds back to Varian’s twins. An aura scented with berries and florals. Scented in god killing poison.
She throws her arm out and points at where Mavyn is still standing. “That girl is the furthest thing from human. She was never human.” Another blast explodes and it rocks more than just the ground. “Mavyn is not a vampire.”
How?
I can’t even silence Varian, or Thorne who’s attentions are both on me even as they continue to fight. More rebels are seeming to appear out of nowhere and I’m still stuck behind waiting. A last defense if everyone else fails.
Rosenbail laughs mockingly again as she shakes her head and faces the field. “You don’t know, but you will,” she repeats.
Damnation rolls and I cross my arms forming an X in front of me to add another shield behind Darian and his father’s. Except there’s something different with this wave. A feeling threaded through Percius’s damnation.
Faintly, I see something shimmering. A line curving up and towards us looking almost red. One of those beings from before who had held back from the front line has their hands up. And then a voice I’ve grown too obsessed with screams one word that has my blood turning cold.
“WITCHES!” Mavyn’s voice echoing down here and onto the field. “THEY HAVE WITCHES!”
Which is impossible.
We would have known if the rebels had witches.
That line of red whips down towards us as all the rebels who had been fighting disappear from the field. They all reappear behind those select beings who had run first and then hung back.
Behind the witches.
. . . nine, ten, eleven. Behind eleven witches.
There aren’t even that many witches left alive.
Time seems to slow for a moment as that line of red splits into a web and crashes down right where my family is. Where those that I had seen as brothers and uncles are. Where my own father is.
They’re all going to die.
And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.