Chapter 29 #2
“Oh, hey! There she is—our axe thrower! Delia’s here, guys,” Joel announced to everyone in Sharlam.
And although I wasn’t looking at the king’s stall, I could vividly imagine Mounir looking at me in disgust at the enthusiastic bellowing of my name.
Aegir must have seen my facial scrunch as he leaned in and said, “Relax, I’ve set a sound barrier. All he can hear is distant mumbling.”
My lips curled.
“Hey, Delia!” Darius called. I even received a small nod from Alarik, who stood with his back against the sandstone wall next to his brother.
Aegir blocked my view and refilled my cup, giving me another wink. I could get used to those—the winks.
“Ah!” Joel barked, leaning in. “Day drinking on the job, I see.” I couldn’t fully contain my chuckle.
“Here,” Darius said from my other side. “Eat something.” He was offering me a piece of flatbread stuffed with fig and goat cheese.
“Oh, no thank you,” I replied, lifting an arm. “I cannot.”
“What do you mean you cannot?” he asked, wincing.
“We have strict ration laws.”
“Nonsense. Aegir, you must—”
“Drop it,” Aegir all but snapped. Darius just shrugged and took one big bite out of it.
“It’s starting,” I breathed at the blaring sound of trumpets.
The steady rhythm of stomping boots mimicked the beat of a powerful heart as an army of a thousand soldiers marched across the racetrack, following the steps of the captain before them.
“Halt!” the captain bellowed in the Earthen tongue. And as if the soldiers’ minds and bodies were somehow interconnected, they came to a synchronous stall.
“Comm—ence!”
With absolute accuracy and structured precision, the men marched two steps forward and squatted, lifting their arms. Sand granules snaked their way out of the barrels that were strapped to their backs.
And a graceful dance of sand wielding commenced.
The grains swooshed and buzzed at their command.
They were pulled and pushed through the air just like wind does to a feathery dandelion seed.
Their planted feet pivoted, scraping against the gritty terrain just as their lifted arms moved.
My lips parted as the sand granules all came together, forming monumental sandstone statues that floated and rotated above our heads.
The spectators clapped and rose to their feet as a statue of Amfir formed before our eyes.
Then the whole place turned wild with excitement as the Wielders made Amfir’s statue come to life.
The granules shifted, giving us all the impression that Amfir himself was wielding sand.
Then his body disintegrated into a hundred little children that scattered away.
Amfir—god of sand and fertility.
People screamed their throats out as if they’d never seen sand being wielded before. Though now that I thought of it, some probably never did.
Albeit living in Ramel, coming across a Sand Wielder wasn’t a common encounter, and that was because Wielders were by law employed by King Belzari.
The gifted ones became soldiers, builders, or miners, often found in the soldiers’ quarters or at the glass factory, depending on the strength of that individual.
When the show ended and the soldiers cleared the way, I moved forward with gleaming eyes.
My belly grazed the sandstone balustrade.
Aegir leaned at my side, giving me a puzzled look, but then he understood the reason for my premature excitement.
I beamed as they took the stage, instantly filling it with unshackled fierceness and deadly promises.
My eyes settled on Princess Yosefa, who was proudly mounted on her resilient black mare.
She was the star of the show, the point of a triangle as the horses of her fourteen Sand Warriors took formation behind her.
The melodic music filled the air and they graciously obeyed, moving gracefully to its commanding beat. The equestrian dressage performance started off slow, showcasing precision and synchrony of both female warrior and horse—seamlessly merging sophisticated elegance and combat.
The Sand Warriors halted as soon as the music did, and they readied themselves in formation. My hands clenched the banister—I waited for it.
Then they finally cried their wild shout for all of Ramel to hear. The drums pounded, and the Sand Warriors unsheathed their swords, raising them up in the air, pointing them towards the sun.
And then it began.
The music amplified, and I swore my thundering heart was beating in its rhythm.
I frequently gasped at their manoeuvres.
My head swayed—how was it possible for someone to stand, pose, balance, and even flip on a moving horse, while holding a sword in hand?
I wished for it to never end, but the show ending meant that the races were up next, and that was just as exhilarating.
The sounds of their thundering hooves—as they whipped through the air—gave me gooseflesh. As did the crescendo of supporting voices and cheering that reverberated around us.
I would definitely call this a wonderful day.
And not only because I indeed correctly predicted the top finishers in all four tournaments!
But also because of the festive atmosphere, the company, the beautiful, formidable horses, the cheering crowds.
I wished Semuel was here. It would have been perfect—well, almost perfect, as my attempt at keeping Princess Yasmina hidden crumbled.
It happened the moment she walked in the middle of the track and played the flute for long, boring minutes.
“I would let that one play my flute anytime,” Joel said, chuckling. “Boreas, look at that pair.”
“I’m looking, don’t worry,” Darius assured him, biting on his lower lip.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at them. And as if Yasmina wasn’t already the great centre of attention, she was also the one who was to announce the betting winners. Which meant that I would soon hear his name coming out of her mouth.
Yasmina started with Lord Senn, the other winner.
She gave him a warm introduction and a long congratulations.
Then she revealed that he had chosen to keep the prize—all one hundred gold coins—for himself.
People still clapped and cheered for him.
I didn’t. Then she turned her attention to our stall, carrying the spectators’ gazes towards Aegir.
Her eyes fixed on his, and she gave him the brightest smile.
Even her tone changed. She spread the word that the Ice Fae were visiting Sharlam to buy glass for Nivaria’s castle.
Everyone fixated on Aegir, including myself. But when the princess revealed that Aegir would be donating his prize, his gaze found mine. Everyone watched him. Everyone. But he watched only me. And I could tell that he was holding back a smile, his lips slightly angled.
“The capturing and generous Lord Aegir Hailin will be donating his prize to…the Orphanage of Dunes in Kalnar!”