49. Elara
Chapter 49
Alarge altar had been set in the middle of a hall so vast and so white that it had ceased feeling as though we were traveling through clouds and were now only part of them. The white ceiling stretched into a dizzying height of white stone, supported by pillars carved with white snakes that twisted through vines of flowers I had never seen before.
The wide petals looked similar to the water lilies that grew in the ponds of the palace, but broader. The delicate petals were long and spindly like the rays of the sun bursting out from the center. They were so unique, the delicate beauty almost breathtaking. I wasn’t even sure a plant like that truly existed.
It was all like something out of a dream. Save for the white snakes. I had had enough of snakes.
As soon as I entered the bubble of voices that had been murmuring in a steady stream reduced to a hush, the slow sounds of someone’s heels echoing through the crowd. I shifted, walking slowly as I tried to see what was coming, but the crush of nobles that stood between me and the altar wouldn’t budge.
I hadn’t so much as been offered a spot near my family, near my father who sat alone in a chair, curled over the side as he mumbled and whimpered like a wounded animal. I was near the back, behind Aeinya’s family, behind the gentry of the court, tucked nearly beside the peasants and pilgrims.
It was where I wanted to be anyway.
Where I would be soon.
“Representing The Goddess, who will oversee this binding, we welcome our Queen, Dalyah.” A swish of fabric accented the priestesses announcement, everyone around me bowing their heads as they dropped into a bow or a curtsy.
I followed right along with them, even if I didn’t drop my head. I didn’t dare, not after what my Uncle had said, not after all the weird warnings from the Fae. I kept my head up, bowing with the rest of them as I watched Mother swish her way to the far side of the altar, her body swathed in a gown that looked more like the ice that made up her soul rather than the clouds I was sure she was supposed to look like.
I wasn’t even sure Mother noticed me in the crowd, if she saw that I didn’t bow my head, or if she scowled at the way my hair wasn’t done up quite right. For the first time, I didn’t care. I stood there, staring at the backs of Batian and Aeinya for what would probably be the last time.
Batian kneeled before the altar, his back firm and strong as he held his hand out for the ceremony, his golden cloak matching his boots and tunic until he looked like a gold coin with a mop of yellow hair. The Sun Prince.
Aeinya merely sagged where she knelt in her dress, her breaths ragged as she hunched and clung to the carved marble altar. She was dressed in billows of fabric, her hair braided and bound into a circlet that resembled a crown, all of the flowers that were wound into it like the jewels.
They both looked lovely, beautiful even, and I knew they would be happy. I prayed to the Goddess that they would be.
Swallowing my goodbye, I waited until everyone had risen from their courtesy to mouth the word, those knots that had been forming in my chest since I had been ripped from my carriage sucking the last of my air as my face burned. I sagged against the column to my left, staring at the intricate petals of the lilies while my mother’s voice rang over everything, and for once she didn’t sound like she had been forced to swallow poison.
“Two souls in the eyes of the Goddess are precious things. Two souls aligned with the wishes of the Goddess and all that she sees within this world is a treasured thing.” Mother’s voice was light, airy, and different. It was almost as if she was different.
She looked down at Batian and Aeinya with all the love and adoration that I had spent so much of my life hoping to see from her. Pride. Joy. Love. Each emotion was bathed on her face as she looked at them. Expressions that she had once given me but had now faded into memories and dreams. Dreams that all of that would return.
It never would.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned to where the Ramal slumped in his chair, still mumbling and whimpering and seeing nothing. The last person to look at me with all of that joy, and even that had been wiped away.
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, but I let them fall. I let them wash away the pain that I was sure was plastered there and focused on what little I could see of Aeinya as Batian took her hand. They looked at each other with all the love in the world.
Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to escape from this place. Escape from this emotional hell that this wedding had turned into.
“It is in the eyes of the Goddess that we bind these two, in magic, in life, in love, in body and in soul. Your hands, please.” I knew what came next, the hand fasting as they were tied together by their Catalysts using ribbons blessed on the altars of the Temple. I waited for their Catalysts to step forward, but there was no rustle of red capes, no spark of magic. There was nothing, because the Catalysts weren’t there. As they hadn’t been there when we were preparing to leave the Runturin, or when I had been led to my mother’s tent, or laying with Aeinya below the carriage. They hadn’t been anywhere.
As Aeinya had said.
Once again, I didn’t see a red cloak anywhere, only the black uniforms of the snakes placed around the space in a wide ring like storm clouds in an otherwise perfect sky.
Instead of the Catalyst, Mother stood, but she did not raise a ribbon. She raised a knife, slicing the sharp point over either of their palms, sending ribbons of red blood onto the stone surface of the altar.
I didn’t remember this part, but perhaps it was different for the future Ramal. No one else seemed surprised, after all. I was the only one who stared in horror at the blood that dripped from them, that seeped through the ribbons as my mother wrapped their bleeding palms together. I forced myself to look away, the red color settling darkly in my soul.
In moments the consummation would begin. Then I would leave, I would leave everything.
Why was it so hard to breathe when I knew I was doing the right thing?
Uncle Jahn and his warning, his panic was playing on repeat as the scent of their blood hit me, my mother’s words still echoing over everything. I didn’t move from my pillar, still choosing to stare at the lilies, at the words traced in between each delicate petal.
“Beautiful aren’t they?” Someone whispered beside me as the boom of my mother’s voice sealed the binding magic and rattled over everything. I nearly jumped out of my skin, that rattling pain in my chest exploding in panic as I turned toward the pretty blonde, soft curls falling around her face and down the back of her threadbare dress. The dress was made for a larger woman, the neckline low enough to be scandalous, revealing the top of a golden tattoo that swirled and curved over her collarbone.
She was one of the pilgrims. She smelled of soap, the dirt I had seen covering them before scrubbed away, even her dress was clean, although a little damp. Perhaps I could ask her to stow me away, perhaps I could ask her for help. No words came, I continued to stare at the golden lines of her chest.
“The lilies,” she continued to whisper when I had clearly been staring too long. “They are beautiful.”
“I have never seen flowers look like this.” I nodded in agreement. She was talking low enough that no one turned, they were all too focused on mumbling the responses to whatever ordinance had been given anyway.
“They are Caspyn Lilies.”
I could have sworn the entire world had been pulled out from underneath my feet. I was falling and flying and forgetting how to breathe all at once.
Caspyn. The word written in blood and ash on the wall by that Fae. Was she Fae? Dozens of questions rattled through me as I gasped, trying to find air to put voice to them. What came out instead was near an explosion.
“What did you say?” I was far too loud, some of the ladies and nobility closest to me turning to scowl as I hissed over the silence of the next long ribbon being wrapped over the joined hands of Aeinya and my brother.
I was sure if I looked up I would see the knowing scowl of my mother, who so accurately predicted how I would ruin this day. I didn't look to her, however, I looked only at the woman who leaned closer to me until she was whispering in my ear, her hair ticking my nose. She smelled like sun, the aroma bright and foreign and somehow forbidden. If light had a scent, that was what she was. Her voice was a soft whisper in my ear, her words suddenly broken with tears.
“They are called Caspyn Lilies. They bring light into dark spaces,” she whispered, the words heavy as I swore the world moved and shifted under my feet. A few people around us gasped as the temple groaned. I tried to pull away, to see what had happened, but her fingers wound around my elbow even as everyone’s voices raised in gasps and awe.
“A union blessed! The Goddess approves!” My mother’s voice rang over all of the hissed concerns as the rumbling slowed and everyone turned back to the ceremony. I, however, couldn’t move. I was frozen as the woman hissed with a sound near a sob in my ear.
“Take care of him will you?”
“Him?” I pulled back, ready to demand answers, or passage, or even to simply say anything that would make sense of the last few hours, but she was gone. Swept away by the ladies and pilgrims that were filtering toward the wide doors as gauze curtains were being pulled round the altar, the ceremony moving to the next part of the binding.
Aeinya’s family and the last of the nobles moved closer to the altar; closer to those curtains and the shapes of Bastian and Aeinya as he laid her over the altar. The look of joy on his face was radiant as he gazed down at her, pushing at her skirts.
“Step forward for the taking,” My mother’s voice rang over everything and I stepped back, taking one last look at the people who should be my family. The people who didn’t see me at all.
“I’ll be going,” I whispered the soft farewell as though they cared before I turned, racing after the last of the noble ladies before the door to the temple had closed, blocking off the bright candles of the ceremony and leaving us in the pitch of night, only the stars above leading the way.
“What a lovely ceremony,” one of the ladies sighed as though she had witnessed miracles, and not the loss of everything that at one point in their life had meant something.
The knot was still there, but so was the taste of freedom, if not mixed with confusion.
Caspyn.
I had no idea what that meant, or what that woman had meant, but I suppose it didn’t matter. I needed to find her, and if not now, then later when we were away from this place. When I was one of them. Perhaps I would even get one of those pretty tattoos.
The priestess’s gaze followed me as I raced down the steps; impossible seeing as all but their lower jaw was hidden by those oversized hoods. Nevertheless, I swear I could feel them watching me, their heads turning after me with every step as I raced past the ladies and children that were making slow progress down the long winding steps in my attempt to reach the forest.
To where I was sure the Boy was waiting for me.
No one even looked my way as I reached the foot of the stairs and beelined for the forest, doing my best to blend in with group after group as they headed to their glowing tents and warm beds. Their banter about the beauty of the ceremony blended with the sound of crickets and night owls as I walked past the last tent and raced toward the tree line, toward where I told him I would be waiting.
I had grown up hearing the stories of this forest, of the dead Fae who walk through the red trees and snatch travelers who had lost their way. They were all stories, but my heart still tightened, every muscle knotting as I plunged myself into the trees and the heady aroma of musk and death that I wouldn’t expect from them. I half expected some monster to dart after me and suck my blood or devour my soul, or any of the other dozens of things I had been told Fae did. Of course, that was before I had realized they were all stories.
Or, at least the Boy didn’t do those things.
I had only broken through the trees by a few steps when the lights of stars and tents fell into darkness, leaving only haunted shadows of red skeletal trees that stretched over the bare forest floor. They stretched and grabbed, shadows blending with inky fingers that dripped and twisted from bark.
Forcing an exhale, I darted between two gnarled trunks, telling myself that this place was not haunted, no matter how much it felt like it was. No matter how much each step brought on a new horror I didn’t expect. All but him.
The Boy who stood like a shadow against the trees.
“Boy!” I gasped and he turned, his cloak billowing as I raced to him, that expanse of fabric over his face turned toward me.
He had come!
We could leave together, and soon, there would only be freedom. We could dance barefoot together, and he could take off that shroud.
I nearly ripped it off then. I would have if I had gotten close enough. He raised his hand to capture me, but instead a blast of what felt like lightning ripped from his palm and slammed into my gut, sending me flying through the air and into a tree.
A crack that surely couldn’t have been just bones echoed in my head. The impact rattled in my joints as I screamed, the dirt of the forest floor rising to meet me as I fell.
The Boy… He had attacked me with magic. Magic that he shouldn’t have, magic as forbidden as mine. He had never said he had magic, he had never shown any sign of holding power, even when we stood in the training field. He was Fae, the Fae did not have their own power, it was why they had stolen the Lynar’s magic in the Black War.
My head spun from the impact of both tree and ground as I forced myself up, everything rotating and moving in ways it should not as I looked toward the Boy who was rushing toward me. His gate was quick and awkward as he stared through that expanse of fabric, the black layer rippling as he breathed.
“Boy?” Even the word spun as I forced them out. “It’s me.”
He didn’t stop as I croaked out the plea and he raised his hand again.
“Boy… Stop…” All of that magic was rumbling inside of me, it was screaming and pressing against my skin as it fought to escape, to attack. But not him. I couldn’t attack him. I wouldn’t.
A cold breeze whispered over me as I was pulled from the ground by a hand that did not exist, magic I didn’t know was possible lifting me, tightening around my neck as it held me there.
I screamed, I writhed, doing anything I could to fight against a hold I could not see. How do you fight against nothing? With magic, I supposed, but I couldn’t use that. Not against him.
I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I sobbed at the realization, at the promise, even as the hand tightened the grip firm before I was slammed into a tree, every inch of my body compressed against the red bark. My body ached, my lungs screaming for enough air.
That stretch of black fabric rattled with each breath as he reached me. There was none of that acceptance and joy I usually felt from him, however, there was only dread.
“Boy…” I gasped, desperately wishing for his name, for him to stop, for him to step back. Instead, his physical hand clutched my throat, long fingers pressing and gripping and squeezing. He was forcing all of the air from my lungs with his bare hands.
His cold bare hands.
Cold hands that were all wrong. The fingers were too short, the palm too wide. The touch was all wrong.
Because he was all wrong.
“You… aren’t… the… Boy…” I forced out each word with the last of my air, my mind buzzing. He wasn’t the Boy, and I certainly wasn’t going to die like this.
A scream ripped from me as I raised my hands, pain slicing down my arm as I worked to let all of that magic that was skittering under my skin explode out of me.
Nothing happened but a few sparks of flame and wind.
My hands slammed into his gut, a rush of air popping against the fabric as he exhaled with a groan and stumbled back a step. His hands didn’t leave my neck completely, but the partial step he took away from me was enough to let me take in one frantic gulp of air.
My vision was popping in black and red, my lungs screaming and burning as I lifted my legs, using his hand against my neck and the firm pressure of the tree as leverage. The last of my air vanished as the pressure of his hand increased. That was until both of my feet and those heavy fighting boots made impact with his crotch.
He screamed as though someone had cut his bits from him and he stumbled back, the loss of pressure against my neck sending me to the ground. I gasped and gulped in air through the burn in my throat in desperation. My magic fizzled even as I forced it back to the surface; I would need it.
My lungs were screaming, my arm of fire as I clung to the narrow trunk of the red tree, pulling myself up as I faced the imposter who was already standing, already flexing his hands as lightning crackled between his knuckles. The threat of the attack was screaming between us as he laughed with a sound that I had never heard come from the Boy before.
“You are not the Boy,” I said again, each raspy word burning through the fire in my throat, the ache in my lungs. He laughed harder, pushing his hands forward and sending all of that crackling lightning toward me.
I lifted my own hands, forcing all of the burning waves of my magic toward him, thinking of water and ice and anything that would stop what was hurtling my way.
Fire sputtered to life, sparking from me as I sent it toward him. It wasn’t enough to stop the attack that was burning through the air from reaching me. It was going to hit. Then, in a pop of flame it vanished, leaving only a bit of smoke and flame behind.
I could only stare. I hadn’t done anything. I hadn’t felt anything rip from me.
Even the imposter stepped back as I looked at my hands, trying to figure out what happened as a shape as ominous as the Boy stepped into the clearing beside me. It was not the Boy, but I recognized him at once, the tangled waves of his dark hair, the smug grin, the black leather tunic and breeches that were stained with what I now recognized as blood.
Except, instead of eyes in a blue so bright they cut through the world, he looked at me with eyes of two different shades of sky, the color seeming to shift as I watched him, both eyes sliding to ice. That same feeling of before smothered me, some forgotten energy ripping me apart as every fiber of my soul screamed to attention.
The chill of his magic smothered me, all of the power that I had been trying so hard to release rising to my skin as if in answer. The heat of my magic pressed against my skin as though the sun had lodged itself inside of me at his approach and was in need of escape.
The spinning in the world came to a halt as I lifted my hands, staring at all that bright burning energy that was under the skin of my palms. I expected them to be glowing, but there was nothing but dirt and the charred scraps of my dress from where they had fallen away.
“It seems that I am late. Apologies,” he growled, placing a hand against one of the many red trees of the forest. He didn’t look away from me even as the tree turned to the color of pitch, the bark breaking and flaking away to something close to ash.
“Although, you seem to be doing fine without me. If he has a cock left after that kick I’d be surprised,” his lips pulled into a half smile that didn’t match the darkness in his voice as he turned, the tree drifting to nothing but dust on the wind as he faced my attacker, the shrouded imposter taking one wide step back.
“Oh come now, we were just going to have a little fun,” the newcomer said, taking another step toward the imposter as he unsheathed long curved swords the length of my arm. The imposter took a panicked step back.
I shuffled back as the imposter did, eyeing the newcomer warily. Something about the blue-eyed man was turning my magic into light, but there was something else about him, something that I wasn’t sure I wanted to see, not with the way he held those blades, the wicked things glinting in shades of blood and death. Something that the imposter already understood.
“Vynari,” the imposter snarled the odd word. It was beautiful somehow, spoken like a curse and a prayer. I had heard it before.
The man in my chamber, the Fae, he had said he was a Vynari, a Walker or something. This man, this Vynari or whatever he was, looked nothing like that Fae. Although, the imposter knew what he was, what a Vynari was, and he feared him.
The blue eyed man smiled as he stepped forward and promptly vanished into nothing. A moment later he appeared behind the imposter, the blades already swinging through the air.
Somehow, impossibly, the blue eyed man, the Vynari, had walked through nothing. He had moved from one place to another without so much of a blink.
What magic was that?
“A Walker,” I whispered the other word the Fae had given me.
The imposter ducked, the black cloaks shifting through the air like shadows as they countered one another in movements so fast that I couldn’t see more than a twist of inky shadows as they fought, the glint of the blade flashing between them as that Vynari sliced again, and this time the scent of blood rang through the clearing.
Someone was hit, the imposter judging by the way the grunt echoed over everything. Before I could get a look, five more figures raced into the clearing, all of them dressed like the Boy.
“By the Goddess.” I moaned, looking between them as though I could somehow decipher if any of them were the right one.
They all looked the same. They all stood the same.
But none of them stood like him.
Knowing that he wasn’t attacking me should have been a relief, except now all of the others were racing toward me, some with swords outstretched, some with hands out in impending magic.
“Elara! Move!” The Vynari shouted, fire erupting from his hands as he shoved the first imposter back, throwing him into a tree like a rag doll. A second later the ground rocked beneath my feet, the soil splitting open as a wide gaping hole spread through everything. Trees quaked, bare branches quivering as they slid into the opening maw, brush and dirt sliding in and taking two of the men with it. Their screams shook with the trees as the ground swallowed them whole. Two more men jumped over the crack in the world with flailing limbs; their hands out, that sparkling lightning, already crackling between their fingers.
“Elara!” The blue eyed Vynari shouted again as the new imposters sent more lightning right towards me.
I lifted my hands, screaming as I focused on one branch of that magic as the Boy had instructed. Fire. It dripped and rippled from my palms before a line of oozing fire shot forward to slam into the one nearest me. The attacker screamed and stumbled back, his black tunic blazing into an inferno. It was enough for him, but not for the one who was raging right behind him. I looked at the blue eyed man, panic in his face before his jaw tightened and he vanished.
One moment he was across the clearing; the next, hot hands held my bare arms, pulling me back as the sparking attack breezed by me, erupting against a tree and sending red splinters everywhere.
They flew through the air like sparks of blood, the dark slivers of scarlet growing bright as everything exploded in a blast of white and gold.
That sun I felt before had erupted from me. Heat was everywhere, it rippled over my skin, it rippled through the air around me in waves of golden light brighter than the daytime sun.
Pure light illuminated the forest as though it was day, it spread around me as the stranger stared in shock. I could only look back at him, at the light that was reflecting off every tree from every bush, turning the inky sky into an azure bruise before a sunrise. The light was beaming from his skin, peering out of his soul.
“You’re glowing.” He stated as if it was the most boring thing in the world. He wasn’t the only one who was glowing, it seemed.
The light, it was from both of us.
The Vynari pressed his lips into a hard line before pushing me behind him, all of that light traveling back down my arms and into my hands as the man’s hands slipped from my arms. His blades twisted and sliced through the air as he raced toward the last of our attackers, one of them rushing to him, while the other raced right to me.
Focusing again on the fíra magic, I pushed that rumbling power out of my skin. I lifted my hands, yelling as that pain mixed with the power that ripped from me in a wave of gold and red, light and fire twisting around one another before they slammed into the chest of the attacker and sent him back into the tree. He slid to the ground as the blades of the stranger sliced through air as the last shrouded men rushed him, the world seeming to slow as the imposter's head slid from his shoulders before dropping to the ground, what was left of the body following behind.
I could only stare, my heart that had forgotten to beat over the last few minutes catching up in a quick staccato that pounded painfully against my ribs. He had done that so easily. Quickly. He had clearly done that before, killed before. He had said he was late when he arrived, but late for what exactly?
“What…. Who… Who are you, Vynari?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay level, my chin to stay high. “Were you sent to kill me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Princess,” he snarled, everything about him dangerous as he cleaned the blades of his swords on his cloak, wiping the blood from them before resheathing them. “I am fairly certain these men were the ones sent to kill you.” He knocked his head toward what was left of the imposter, kicking him as though he was nothing more than a weed. It made my stomach turn over.
“He is not your man. None of them are.” He had clearly said it as a comfort, but I already knew that. Besides, I had bigger questions. Starting with the light that had exploded from us when he touched me.
“I know they aren’t him.” I was firm as I stepped forward, keeping my jaw squared as I glared into his ominous scowl, his face speckled with blood that was far too dark even in the night of the forest. “Now tell me–”
“Don’t let her know that you know that,” he whispered, cutting me off as he moved his cloak around him, hiding his long swords from view.
“Don’t let who know?” I asked, the thunderous roar of feet sounding from everywhere. Shouts and screams ripping through what had previously been a deafening silence, that roar of feet growing closer.
“Dalyah,” the stranger said as he stepped around me, clearly taking a more protective stance. “If you value your life, and mine, you will only tell her what is needed.”
“I don’t even know who you are.” Not that I wouldn’t save him, he saved me after all, but I didn’t know him.
“My name is Caspyn.” His focus was through the trees as those thundering footsteps reached us, at least a dozen of the Ramal’s army breaking through the forest with swords drawn. They paused at seeing me, my dress torn and singed, the splatters of blood covering me, before their swords all turned to the stranger.
Caspyn.
The name on the wall. The lilies. That girl telling me to take care of him.
Him.
This man who had saved me.
He didn’t so much as flinch as the guards rushed him. He just stood there as two guards grabbed his hands and shoved them behind his back, two more keeping their swords on him.
“Wait! Stop!” I rushed them, my mind still whirling around what had happened and what he said. I already knew I had to save him, even without his name. Whatever that name meant.
“Get back! This monster will kill you!” The guards howled, even as the stranger glared into the darkness of the trees as Mother stepped into the clearing.
She still wore that icy dress from the wedding, her crown a spiked circlet of knives atop her head. All of that love and joy I had seen on her face before was gone, replaced by the usual scowl as she looked over the clearing, her lip curling even as she feigned disgust.
“What in the world has happened?” She spoke in a high whine, as though she was appalled. Or, rather, as if she was trying to sound worried. I couldn’t tell which. I had never heard that tone from her before. Her voice carried as some of the royals and pilgrims filtered through the trees after her, clearly drawn to the noise. They all wore bed clothes, or were in different stages of undress, not that they would let that keep them from what was sure to be entertainment. The crazy princess, at it again.
“We found this man and his band attacking the princess. They clearly dragged her from the ceremony to kill her,” the guard who held a sword to the stranger's neck announced, his strangled voice loud and flat as he let it carry to those who were still arriving. There was something off about the way he spoke, as though he had said those exact words before, or he was reading them off a piece of parchment.
The corner of the stranger's lips twitched; he had noticed it as well.
“Thank goodness you caught him! Thank goodness she is safe!” My mother was forcing so much concern into her voice she was choking on it. Mock horror lined her eyes as she rushed toward me, hands out to gather me into her arms in some elaborate show.
I didn’t know what she was playing at but I wanted no part of it. I stepped back, wishing my Boy was there, and not all the fake ones that were on the ground. Dead. The moment I stepped away her eyes went to Caspyn, to the man who stood and scowled at her with more hatred than I had ever seen in a person. It was as though he would destroy her with just that look.
I had felt that emotion towards her before, but I had never shown it. I had never risked so much to look at her as though I would be the one to destroy her.
Caspyn did.
I saw that look, I saw every emotion I felt in myself reflected back at me. I should have been scared, but it was too familiar for me to have fear.
The queen smiled back at him, her lips spreading thin as she licked them. She looked at him as if she wanted to eat him. That smile spread further before she schooled her features into that same calm hatred as before.
“Lock him up!” My mother was decisive. “Lock him up for attempting the life of the princess!”
“No! Stop!” I screamed, rushing between him and the guards who were now using their swords like the prods I had seen them use on the cattle in the fields. They barely stopped as I stepped between them, one of the sharp points pressing against my hip.
“He wasn’t trying to kill me! He saved me!”
“Saved you?” My mother laughed, the mockery traveling through the crowd as if they were trained to laugh on cue at the poor princess. It was hard to ignore the way that realization knotted in my gut. I balled my fists, burying them in the singed and torn edges of my skirt as I stepped closer to her, still keeping myself between the guards and Caspyn.
He had saved me, I would save him. But it was more than that, there was something about him. Something I needed to save. I didn’t know how to explain it.
“Yes. These imposters,” I gestured to the bodies that littered the forest floor, “they attacked me. He came and saved me.”
“It’s true–” Caspyn began from behind, his cloak rippling as the guards pulled him back. I knew he was reaching for those blades, which I was sure would help any other time. But not now, not with her. I tried to gesture to him to stop, but I wasn’t sure he saw, or even had any idea what I was trying to say.
“I highly doubt that,” the queen’s eyes widened, her focus darting from side to side as more of the guards closed in. “He’s a murderer, Elara. Don’t let your childish mind?—”
“I’m not a child! I know what I saw.” I stepped closer to him, even as the guards closed in, their swords drawn. The forest was littered with people now, with guards, with all of the Lords and Ladies from their tents, and with the pilgrims who had clearly followed the noise. That same woman from before stood in between the trees, tears slowly falling down her face as she watched, a blonde man who was absolutely covered in tattoos standing beside her, his hand on her shoulder.
“I’m not a fool!” I yelled louder as I stepped closer to him, closer to that bright pull of him that I had felt before. Light and hope. “I never have been a fool.. He saved me. He’s…”
I didn’t know what else to say as I stepped into Caspyn, my back pressing against his chest and everything erupted in light again.
Bright golden beams went everywhere, somehow brighter than they were the first time, they rippled over everything. The trees turned gold, the sky illuminated as that bright energy swelled through me again and exploded in a wave of power. The guards were thrown back with a shout, swords dropping to the ground as they fell. The queen’s eyes went wide in what I could only explain as true horror.
She mouthed something I couldn’t make out as I turned to Caspyn, facing each other in the glow of the light that came from the two of us. The guards were still finding their feet as I said the only thing that made sense, the only thing I could think of that would save him.
That would save us both.
“He’s my Catalyst.”