Chapter 64
NIKIAS
Nikias had said he couldn’t watch, but he’d been wrong.
He couldn’t look away.
Aimilia stepped into the rune as Nikias was shoved into a seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother and Commander Prisca. His mother’s grip was tight and bruising, while Prisca’s was firm. The rune glowed and expanded as his mother hissed in his ear, “What were you thinking?”
Aimilia shifted her leg, grounding her stance. What good was it going to do?
She almost cried out every time her arm moved. She couldn’t cast.
Nikias whispered, “This isn’t right. We can’t let this happen.”
Prisca said, “I’m not going to like watching this any more than you, Your Highness, but we can’t interfere. Commander Aimilia chose to accept, and that is the end of it.”
Nikias jerked his arms, but he didn’t knock loose either of their grips. “This is absolutely barbaric. This is going to be a slaughter. Her arm is broken. She can’t fight back.”
Prisca said, “Then let’s hope Cyprian is merciful.”
Given the look in the older man’s eye, Nikias wouldn’t count on it.
Cyprian watched Aimilia for a second before he shifted into his stance. “As soon as you yield, I’ll stop.”
Aimilia’s jaw clenched. Her only response was a tight nod.
He didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she just let him do this? He could easily have beaten Cyprian for her.
Was it about her pride?
Everyone knew that she was a skilled mage; winning had proven that. This wasn’t a fair fight. She wasn’t so naive and foolish as to think she had a chance of winning this, was she?
Cyprian’s hands moved and vitae lit up the air. Aimilia’s hands moved as well, or rather, one hand did. Her other stayed pressed under her stomach, fingers dancing as much as they could without disrupting her arm.
There was still a soft grunt. Aimilia breathed heavily through her nose.
Nikias was going to throw up. Her shield went up, just in time to block the bolt of vitae Cyprian sent at her.
Her finger was bare. Why was she so stubborn and prideful that she’d stopped wearing the ring he’d given her? He didn’t care if she hated him; why couldn’t she just let him protect her?
And then Aimilia began moving, taking advantage of the one thing she did have in her favor at the moment. Her legs.
Even if she couldn’t cast easily, she could at least run. Her braid whipped through the air, as did her red cloak. With just her feet, she managed to dodge the next two bolts Cyprian sent her way.
Cyprian hadn’t moved. He was clearly taking it easy on her, although from the way his brow furrowed and his scowl deepened each time one of his shots missed, Nikias didn’t know how much longer that would be the case.
Nikias shook his head. “It has to stop. Someone has to stop this.”
His mother snapped, “The brat made her choice. Now she gets to suffer the consequences.”
“I can’t watch this.”
His mother’s voice was clipped as she leaned forward, eyes brightening as another bolt shot toward Aimilia. “Then close your eyes.”
Nikias didn’t. Cyprian switched, becoming more aggressive. A vitae whip lashed across the air, and Aimilia threw herself into a roll to avoid it snapping around her ankle.
Her scream ripped through the air as she jostled her arm, but she sprang back up afterwards, staggering. Her face was red, and her arms even more scraped than before. But she moved her hands, another scream ripping from her lips as she cast.
At first, it wasn’t clear what she had cast, but a smirk overtook her lips, and she thrust both hands up in a quick motion. And then Cyprian went up, a vitae platform underneath his feet.
Cyprian fell off it before it could take him much higher than a foot, but it sent him to the ground, giving Aimilia a second to breathe. A second which she desperately needed, since she was now clutching her broken arm and seething each breath through her teeth.
It was a short-lived victory. Cyprian scrambled back up, face flushed red and boiling with fury.
Aimilia started running, but there was only so far she could go, not to mention the fact that she’d just finished a long race.
She was slowing. Aimilia barely dodged the first whip.
She wasn’t as lucky with the next. When she stumbled, that was when the vitae wrapped around her ankle and ripped her legs out from under her.
She went flat on her front, arm pinned beneath her.
Her scream was going to haunt Nikias’ nightmares. She flung her other hand out, sinking it into the dirt, but Cyprian was dragging her back toward him. All her fingers did was pull up dirt as she went.
Nikias didn’t care what the rules were. He tried again, this time succeeding in ripping himself out of Prisca’s grip.
He got his foot under him and started to push off, but his mother’s bruising grip elicited a hiss.
That combined with the vitae that burned through his cloak, slammed him back into his seat.
Once Cyprian had finished dragging Aimilia toward him, he flipped her over onto her back. Nikias could see as her head tilted back, the tear tracks streaming from her eyes as she tried to crawl on her broken arm.
Cyprian snapped, “Yield already.”
Aimilia closed her eyes, and her whole body jerked as she convulsed.
Yield. Nikias stared at her, begging her to put them both out of this misery and just yield already. This wasn’t proving anything. All it was doing was torturing her and Nikias by proxy.
There was a soft, choked, “N—no.”
Then Aimilia’s foot slammed into Cyprian’s shin. She knocked him off balance, giving her just enough time to push herself up with her good arm. She started to crawl away.
Nikias opened his mouth, but then two hands were on his throat. He only just barely got out “S—”
His voice died before finishing the word.
Nikias gasped and choked. His mother pulled her hands back, and then she dropped one to his wrist. A burning overtook his arm, and Nikias looked down to see a rune now pinning his arm to his stone seat as well.
If he tried to break out of it, it was going to leave a grievous burn.
His mother settled back in her seat and said, “If you won’t be quiet and let this play out, then you’ve left me no choice, son.”
Aimilia was crawling through the rocks with only one arm. Cyprian had gotten back on his feet, rolling his eyes. He simply walked as he caught up to her. He then grabbed her by the back of her cloak and jerked her back.
She cried out again. Nikias’ screams didn’t leave his lips. Cyprian grabbed Aimilia by the hair, sinking his hand into the base of her skull and tilting her head back.
“You are making this harder than it needs to be.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re done.”
But she wasn’t. She reached behind her, screaming as she moved her arm. She grabbed Cyprian by the head, finishing the rune she had been casting as she went.
Nikias’ breath caught in his throat. The same paralysis rune she’d used on the dog.
But right before she finished, Cyprian grabbed her arms and ripped them away.
Aimilia let out a desperate, panicked cry as her rune disappeared.
Cyprian grabbed her by the cloak again and flung her.
Aimilia went rolling through the dirt again, more scrapes and bruises accumulating.
Would he really not stop till Aimilia yielded? When was Aimilia going to yield?
A bolt of vitae flew through the air; Aimilia jerked as it made contact with her side. Another one followed, hitting her square in the side. The whip flew through the air again, locking around her ankle. Aimilia’s good arm twitched, but it barely moved.
Cyprian dragged her back through the dirt again, although this time he didn’t stop. He moved across the ring, dragging Aimilia behind him.
Nikias had seen her do that move plenty of times before; she must have learned it from somewhere.
Although seeing it performed on her was so much worse.
It seemed to last an eternity, before Cyprian finally stopped and approached her again. This time Aimilia lay on her side, eyes squeezed shut.
Nikias couldn’t tell if she was even conscious anymore. He presumed she was or else the walls would have fallen. Nikias’ arm throbbed from where the burns had been seared into him as he kept trying to break free.
Cyprian knelt in front of her, grabbing her jaw in one hand and tilting her face toward his. “Have you had enough?”
Nikias could only just barely make out Aimilia’s words. “S—stop, please.”
Cyprian said, “Say it.”
In a choked, broken whisper, “I yield.”
Cyprian let go, and Aimilia slumped to the ground.
The walls fell, but Nikias was already sprinting across the ground. Angry red burns tore through his arm, but Nikias didn’t care. His lips moved, but Aimilia’s name never actually left his lips.
Cyprian stepped away from her and turned out to face the crowd. The crowd was deathly silent. Not a single person cheered.
Nikias crashed to his knees in the dirt beside Aimilia.
Her arm was tucked into her chest and her eyes were closed.
The tear tracks were the only thing that cut through the grime that had accumulated on her face.
Her hair was half spilling out of her ruined braid, sticking to her skin and still slick with sweat.
Her head was in the dirt, and her eyes were closed.
The only sign of life was the very slight rise and fall of her chest.
Nikias looked up, trying to scream for a healer, but the rune on his neck prevented him.
No one else had moved. They were all just watching Cyprian.
He gathered Aimilia into his arms and began looking for an injury that was within his ability to heal.
The crowd murmured right as Nikias began to cast a healing rune over a burn on Aimilia’s side that had torn through her chiton.
Nikias looked up, the glow of vitae from his rune making it hard to see, but he was able to make out Prisca rising from her seat, slowly approaching.
Nikias tried to call out again, but the rune on his throat flared. Let them all see it. Nikias didn’t care anymore. If his mother wanted to try and collar him like a dog, he didn’t care if anyone knew it anymore.
Prisca said, “Commander Cyprian, it seems you won.”
Cyprian looked back over his shoulder, and Nikias narrowed his eyes at him.
He was dead. Nikias didn’t care what it would take, but he was going to make him pay for this.
Cyprian said, “Yes. I won.”
Prisca cleared her throat and turned back to the crowd, calling out, “Commander Cyprian has won his challenge, thus making him the new Head of House Mitis.”
There was some scattered polite applause, but even the most ruthless Runai would have had a hard time stomaching watching that display. The Runai loved to fight, but there was no pleasure in watching a match that was so completely one-sided.
A soft groan came from his arms. Nikias immediately abandoned everything else to look at Aimilia.
He’d just barely finished healing the large burn when her eyes blinked open.
She stared up at him and her gaze was glassy and unfocused.
She stared at him for a moment before she choked out a whispered, “N—Nikias?”
He nodded, holding her still with one arm and cupping her face with the other. He could only nod in response.
She squeezed her eyes shut again. “It hurts.”
Another tear slipped out of her eye, this time falling to Nikias’ palm. The soft whimper that left her lips tore Nikias in two. He had no idea what the healers were waiting on, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to just sit there, holding her and completely useless.
Not again.
He moved on to the next burn that he could see, casting as quickly as he could. He fumbled the rune the first time, but the second time it took. She opened her eyes again. She looked up him and said, “What—What are you doing?”
Nikias kept healing since he could not speak. She looked down and stared blankly at the rune healing the burn on her leg. Then her head slumped against his shoulder. “Stop. Please.”
She couldn’t be serious. Nikias couldn’t trust a word she said right now. She was practically unconscious and delirious from pain. And even if she was serious, Nikias wasn’t going to stop. Until the proper healers got there, Nikias was going to do everything he could to take care of her.
She muttered, “After everything… Why are you still here?”
Despite the futility, Nikias tried to speak.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
Nothing came out.
“I can’t—” Aimilia let out another sharp, gasping noise full of agony. “I can’t—just let it be over.”
Nikias had no idea exactly what she was begging for.
He looked up again as he finished on the second burn.
Everyone was deathly still and silent, the crowd torn between watching Nikias and Aimilia and watching Queen Clelia, Commander Prisca, Cyprian, and what looked like a messenger from Areator off to the side.
The messenger was wearing black.
His mother’s face had gone alabaster white and ashen as her eyes widened.
“Let me go.”
Nikias looked down as Aimilia went completely limp in his arms, finally drifting unconscious. Her words ricocheted through Nikias’ core.
He looked up again. Nikias knew what they were hearing. His father was finally dead.
His eyes fell to the woman in his arms.
Had there ever been anything he ever touched and hadn’t left it in ruins in his wake?