Chapter 57
As the Magical duels in Aterna came to a close, the victors of the duels collected their rewards and accolades with triumphant faces. First prize and third prize went to a Senshi Warriors, with one of their Bellator stealing second place. Eryx and Drystan, Roswyn and Alphard, abstained from the tournament, giving others a chance to shine.
And shine they did.
The Senshi Warriors fought with a tenacity that gripped Mal’s attention and consumed his mind. He thought of them endlessly. The power radiating from their swords and arrows. The agile and controlled strength they embodied.
He had to have it.
The Bellator were a wild mass of Magic, disciplined in an entirely different way of battle. Obscuring and tricks, bending nature and trapping the senses were their strengths. Their possibilities endless.
But the Senshi were designed for war. He could smell it.
They enjoyed their time with his Bellator. The Supremes in his ranks delighted in finding their power match in playful rivalry. They ate and danced together at Crystalmore, celebrating their triumphs and newfound comradery.
“We look forward to hosting you next,” said Lithandrian, pulling Mal from his thoughts. “I have many contenders eager to match up against your Warrior’s swordplay, High Lord.”
“Their swords are only a part of their fight,” said Reeve with a proud smile.
“Ah,” replied Lithandrian, her eyes narrowing slightly, “but it is all of the Elven’s strength. And in a battle of arms, I believe you’ll see how greatly that matters.”
Reeve toasted her. “It is not lost on me that Eryx has transformed their swordplay with the customs his father learned from your people.”
Lithandrian seemed pleased with his remark. She excused herself as her husband inclined his head across the hall.
“I have an idea,” said Mal.
Reeve cocked a brow, his effortless arrogance on full display.
“You and Maeve. A little display.”
Reeve stalled.
“You want me to fight her?” Asked Reeve, his smile fading.
“Why not?” Asked Mal cooly. “A spectacle it will be, I’m sure.”
Reeve nodded, licking across his front teeth.
“And here I was expecting you to place yourself,” replied Reeve.
“Our day has not dawned,” said Mal without missing a beat.
“Do you foresee it?” Asked Reeve.
Mal smiled. “I am no seer.”
“No,” said Reeve. “You haven’t got one of those I’m told.”
Mal looked across the hall to Roswyn, where he and Alphard shared drinks with the Senshi. “Poor Emerie,” was all he said.
“Yes,” said Reeve dryly, following Mal’s gaze. “Poor girl.”
“Maeve has trained well,” continued Mal. “You’d honor her to not hold back.”
“A closing duel in the ancient times was a fight to the death.”
Mal looked across the hall at her. Where she stood, leaned against the Throne Room wall, watching guests with uneasy eyes. “You think she won’t die for me?”
“No,” said Reeve. “I’m certain she would. But you die before she does, correct?”
Mal’s eyes snapped to Reeve, as though he had forgotten the High Lord was present for that Magical vow he made in the foyer at Sinclair Estates. He’d been emotional that day, terrified of losing her after Kietel took her.
And since that day, it was written in Magic: Mal would die before Maeve did.
Mal’s cool demeanor returned as he looked away from the Reeve.
“As I said,” began Mal, “don’t hold back.”
He left Reeve without another word and crossed the Throne Room towards Maeve. Her eyes flitted up to him and she pushed off the wall, meeting him halfway.
“The closing duel. You and Reeve.”
Maeve’s mouth fell open. Mal nearly chuckled.
“Don’t worry, Little Viper. He won’t kill you. But I expect to see you try to kill him.”
“I’m not capable of killing him,” she said softly.
“I said try. Bring that lightning out.”
“I’m not angry enough for that.”
Mal sighed and spoke with a sharp ease. “What do I need to do to provoke you?”
Maeve looked up into his dark eyes. There were barely any flecks of green in them.
“Is this punishment?” She asked.
Mal laughed softly. “What have you done deserving of punishment, Maeve? Move to attack me in front of all the other realms? Constantly question my place as your Prince?” He paused. “Look at me with such a soft disdain I hardly recognize you?”
Maeve’s jaw loosened.
Mal’s expression shifted as his eyes traced across her face. Sorrow swept across his green-flecked eyes, as they faded momentarily to their flawless natural color.
Maeve stepped towards him, hope swelling in her chest.
“Mal,” she said softly.
His eyes lifted to hers, and with one breath, hope faded and the small flecks of green returned to his now hardened face.
“You best go prepare,” he said.
Mal’s voice echoed across her mind as she stepped onto the pale ground of the arena, her eyes on Reeve where he waited for her at its center.
Do you so easily forget he placed that poison?
Maeve had not forgotten. She’d never forget.
If the Gods were cruel in nature, she must have been their favorite to mock.
Is it through negligence or naivety that you think he truly was unaware the goblet still held such a deadly curse?
A fated bond with the man ultimately responsible for the poison that killed her most beloved.
That perhaps, in your father’s loyalty to me, Reeve felt threatened?
She wondered how long Reeve had known.
He’d kept their bond from her. He’d known and hadn’t shared it with her. He could speak into her mind and had never been forthcoming with such important knowledge.
Reeve slid off his overcoat, revealing the black beaded tunic underneath. The finest clothes in Aterna. No shining armor in sight. His broad shoulders and fit frame looked deadly in all black. The jagged marks of Vexkari that he wore along the side of his face and down his neck nearly glowed.
He contested my presence here, you said so yourself.
Reeve stepped across the arena, Magic pulsing from each step, until he stood in the middle of the large, black, seven-pointed star.
It’s twin was a few steps away from Maeve.
It would be easy to find out.
I’ve never been in an Aterna’s mind, Maeve replied to Mal.
It will bend to you, like they all do. See just how far you can go into his mind.
Mal slipped from her thoughts, and she closed the door that allowed him entry. She needed all her strength to last even a single spell in a duel with Reeve.
“You could surrender your win now,” said Reeve with a practiced and perfected shining smile. “Save yourself the embarrassment.”
“The only embarrassment I fear is that of cowardice.” Maeve stepped into the black seven-pointed star in front of her and said cooly, “Do I look like a coward to you?”
“No,” said Reeve with a small chuckle. “You look like your father.”
Maeve’s insides twisted and plummeted, drawing rage from her core.
Rage that he wasn’t present.
Rage that he lied to her.
Rage that she had no answers, nor an idea of who her mother was.
Rage that Mal was slipping into something twisted and she had no idea how to save him.
Lightning, electric and sharp, prickled at her fingertips.
They formally acknowledged one another with a small bow.
Reeve glanced down at her hand with an eager look in his eyes. “So be it,” he said with a grin.
Lightning erupted from her fingers, refracting across the bright crystal walls encasing them. Cheers of excitement boomed around them.
Reeve was gone in a swirl of violet, fire-like mist before her Magic made contact. She whipped around; he stood at her backside.
With a single wave of his hand she stumbled sideways.
Maeve Obscured quickly before she hit the ground, righting herself a few feet away. She slammed up a shield as a small burst of Magic spiraled towards her. It slammed into her shield, sparkling to the ground.
Maeve’s eyes narrowed at his purposefully weak attempt.
Reeve shrugged.
Maeve conjured Magic to her fingers, directly aiming for him as she simultaneously slammed into his mind.
Maeve recoiled against his mental shields. The Magic shooting from her hand vanished as she winced at the throbbing pain behind her eyes. His head cocked to the side playfully.
You want into my head? Reeve’s voice echoed across her mind. You have access. You need only use it.
She’d never use that bond to connect with him. She hated that he was in her head at all. She pushed again, using every bit of strength to slice through his shields. This time, she fell to the pale crystal floor of the collegium with a smack.
Her palms cried at the impact of catching herself.
She withdrew her Magic pressing against his mental shields with a frustrated sigh and pushed up off the ground, glaring at him over her shoulder.
Too afraid to feel something other than hatred, Maeve? He taunted.
Maeve stood tall and faced him.
Charged Magic spiked at her hand, bright blue and volatile, as she reared back.
He extended his hand, palm flat, as her lightning barreled towards him. He made no attempt to dodge her attack, in fact Reeve welcomed the deadly Magic into his palm with his eyes on her.
It did not dissipate, or slice through him. It snapped and jerked in his hand.
He brought his hands together, a pained expression she’d never seen him wear rippling across his face as he held her lightning.
Maeve’s mouth fell open and she froze.
The pale blue electric paths crackled around him as he took control of the energy, despite the agony it brought him. He held a tight breath as it moved through him, wrapping up his arms and illuminating more and more.
The crowd had grown completely quiet. The air buzzed with anticipation and shock. Pure awe and terror mixed across Maeve’s expression. She didn’t even attempt to hide her emotions.
Reeve’s voice sounded across her mind. You feel marvelous.
Her arms hung limp at her sides as sharp breaths rose through her.
She’d never win. He was always ahead of her in knowledge and in power.
Only he heard her as she fought the shake in her voice and whispered “I do hate you.”
Her lightning swarmed back to his hand.
“I know,” he said with a quiet resolve.
Her vision shifted to the image of a dark night sky and the sound of a small cry.
Maxius’ tiny hands reached towards her, gripping the fabric of her cloak as massive tears streamed his delicate face. The tall, hooded figure before her took him in their arms.
Maxius continued to reach for her in distress. Maeve’s heart cracked open.
“This is not forever, Maeve,” said the hooded figure.
His voice was familiar.
“Then why is my heart breaking?”
The hooded figure held Maxius tenderly.
“How am I supposed to walk away?” She asked, her voice breaking.
Warm wind swirled around them, settling Maxius against the hooded man’s chest and calming him instantly. He breathed deeply as his eyes fluttered close beneath thick lashes.
The vision snapped back out of view, and Reeve stood before her in the coliseum once more.
Maeve’s overwhelming feeling of loss prevented her from understanding what happened next until bright light blinded her.
Her body registered the shock in a delay as he flung her lightning back towards her. An invisible shield slammed up before her, not of her own Magic, dulling the blow. It was gone before she could understand whose Magic it was.
She cried out as her eyes squeezed shut against the burning hot Magic.
The bit of lightning that clipped her shoulder throbbed as it courses through her body. Blood soaked through her clothes, damp and warm as it moved down her arm.
She peeked up at Reeve and realized she was on the ground, not having felt the fall. He stared down at her, his mask back in place and clicked his tongue.
“Your Viper is wounded, Dread Prince,” announced Reeve loudly.
Maeve scowled up at him through the pain.
“You should stay down,” said Reeve.
She pushed one foot into the ground, her other knee pulsing in pain. She pulled herself completely upright and staggered, gripping her stomach. The coliseum tilted and her view of Reeve blurred.
“You cannot win,” he said. “It would be honorable for us both if you yield.”
Maeve dug her heels in and did not reply.
Her father had taught her to never back down. Mal had trained her to never sacrifice her honor.
Please don’t make me , he said into her mind. She didn’t miss that his voice was wrought with pain. His face remained leisurely arrogant. Yield .
Maeve had never spoken to him through that ancient connection. And she didn’t intend to start.
She pulled her spine tall, her chin proud, as what could only be described as heartbreak shattered across Reeve’s face.
Her arms dropped to her side.
There came no apology as his divine Magic whipped across arena. She had nothing left of a shield. She knew it would be an all but fatal blow.
But she would take it for her honor.
For her Dread Prince.
She’d do it to show Mal, as she always did, that her oath as his Second was never taken lightly. Even now, as her dreams of their future slipped away behind his dead eyes.
And to show Reeve that no matter what Magic lingered between them, she chose Mal.
What other choice was there? She would go down beside him, or not at all.
The side of her vision registered Maxius as he stepped towards her from a mass of dark swirling mist. In that same blink, a cracking sound rang through her ears, echoing off the now blurred walls of the hall as her jaw snapped. And darkness encased her.