2. Zai
Zai
Glowing steel whooshed through the air as I twisted my wrist, driving more heat into the metal ball to maintain control over it. Flattening it into a blade, I hurled it at one of the twenty wooden poles, punching a smoldering hole clean through.
The training ring stretched wide and empty around me. Room for a dozen fighters, yet for now, it was mine alone.
Always alone.
Karex watched from behind the stone wall lining the far side of the training area. Only his bald head was visible above the rim. The sun master’s face remained impassive as he tracked my every move.
The palace loomed behind him, rising from the mountain’s base, its pale stone and gilded towers gleaming in the sun.
A crisp mountain wind whipped strands of my dark red hair into my eyes. I ignored it, well accustomed to my unruly locks. Instead, I focused on the pull of the metal as it obeyed every flick of my command.
Calling the blade back, I split it into twin daggers that danced above my palms. With my heat magic pulsing into the metal, it easily bent to my will. My jaw tightened as I directed them toward opposite targets, both hitting their marks dead center.
Training was supposed to shape me into a fighter, but these lifeless poles had nothing left to teach me.
At twenty-four, I should have already been an adept, but Karex would never let me rise above novice—too eager to please the Sun King. And in my father’s eyes, nothing I did was ever enough to earn his approval. Yet I kept trying.
Flames roared toward me, Karex wielding his fire.
Heat washed over my arms and chest, no more than a passing warmth against my bolstered skin.
After a decade of training, my bolster magic came as natural as breathing, strengthening my resilience to heat and pain.
I kept it active from the moment I entered the ring.
White light exploded in my vision—Karex blinding me with light magic. I snapped my eyes shut and traced my daggers’ arcs in my mind. The glowing metal’s heat signatures burned bright, clear as day.
I guided their path without seeing, but hitting the poles was the tricky part. Live targets radiated heat I could sense, but wood was invisible to me. Karex loved this test. As if failing to detect dead objects somehow proved I was still too weak.
But I’d prepared a new tactic today. Instead of hurling the daggers in random directions, I flattened them into discs and swept them in a widening circle until one struck wood, searing through with a sizzling hiss. A grin split my face as I spun the discs faster, hunting my next target.
Something cracked against my upper arm, hard enough to bruise if not for my bolster. Whatever had struck me emitted no heat signature. Weird. I kept my eyes shut, refocusing on the discs’ trajectory.
Another crack against my hip sent me staggering sideways. “Ashes and embers! What was that?”
My discs clattered against stone as I lost focus, the metallic clang mingling with Karex’s scornful laugh.
The searing light vanished, and I opened my eyes. Two fist-sized metal balls lay at my feet, cool as the stone beneath them. Had he actually thrown those with his arm like some common non-wielder? I glared at his satisfied smirk above the wall.
Typical Karex. He never gave any instructions, just let me flounder until I stumbled onto a solution. And the instant I succeeded, he offered no acknowledgment, only threw another obstacle in my way.
My fists clenched. “Why do we keep doing this? It’s not like I’ll ever become an adept anyway.”
I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth, already predicting his answer.
His smile vanished. He rose, his upper body looming above the stone barrier, leather armor taut across broad shoulders. “This isn’t for you. It’s to protect those around you. We won’t stop until you prove you can control your powers.”
There it was, just as I’d expected.
And still, his words bit straight into the festering wound at my core. I was weak. I lacked control. The only thing I was good at was causing pain, misery, and death.
“I can control my powers.” My teeth ground against the words.
His lip curled. “Really?”
A scorching ball of fire hurtled at my chest. I yanked my discs up just in time, and fire exploded against them in a shower of sparks. He ducked behind the wall and sent more flames blazing my way, forcing me back a step with each block.
Anger ignited in my gut. My vision narrowed to that smug face peering over the barrier, every nerve itching to prove exactly how much control I had.
Merging my discs into a spear, I hurled it straight at him. Just before it hit his forehead, I snapped the weapon downward, driving it into the wall instead. Metal slammed into the barrier with a resounding crack, stone splintering beneath the glowing spearhead.
Karex stopped attacking and ducked out of view.
“See.” His voice drifted from behind the wall.
I panted. “See what?”
“No control. You’re not supposed to hit the wall.”
“I didn’t lose control. I meant to hit the wall.”
Another voice rang out behind me. “That’s not control.”
I spun to face my father. The Sun King stood at the edge of the training yard, his golden robes catching the afternoon light. His long black hair was pulled back in its usual knot, accentuating his high cheekbones, hard jaw, and those assessing eyes.
His two royal guards flanked him, hands resting on sword hilts. Their fitted drake-scale armor had been polished to a shine.
I hated when he appeared unannounced, always in time to witness my failures.
My hands clenched into fists as I met his glare head-on. “You’re the one always reminding me to be ruthless.”
His gaze swept over the cracked wall, heavy with disappointment. “Ruthless, yes. Not reckless.”
Frustration flared in my veins, but I lowered my gaze. I hadn’t lost control of my magic since that incident eight years ago, but every day since had been a struggle to prove I was strong and capable.
It was never enough.
Father’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, cold and demanding. “The guests for Celebration Week are lining up outside the palace gates.”
I blinked. “Already?”
“We’ll allow them in within a candlemark.” His gaze swept over my singed fighting gear and sweat-soaked frame. “Clean up and be ready in the courtyard.”
He turned without waiting for an answer, golden robes billowing as he strode along the promenade, guards at his heels.
“Well then, Prince Zaivareth.” Karex’s voice dripped with mockery. “Guess we’re done for today. I’ll see you here tomorrow at noon.”
“Yes, Master Karex.”
He marched off toward the master’s quarters without even a glance my way.
I stalked toward the palace, yanking at the leather straps of my training harness. The crisp mountain air cooled my overheated skin but did nothing to ease the irritation crawling up my spine.
Val had likely already dressed in some princely garb, his hair perfectly coiffed. And Iz practically slept in her gowns, always prepared. My siblings would be on time, while I’d be late. But I couldn’t muster the energy to care.
Celebration Week would always be the worst week of the year. I wished I could just fall into a coma and miss the entire thing.
I shoved through the heavy palace doors and launched up the stairs toward my chambers, my boots hammering against the polished marble.
One week. I just had to survive one week. If not for myself, then for Mother.
She had created Celebration Week over a decade ago, and Father insisted on maintaining the tradition in her memory. She would have wanted me to rejoice in the festivities. The thought settled like ash on my lungs, bitter and choking.
But for her, I’d grit my teeth and endure every scorching moment of the coming week.