Chapter Four #2
I lean back into the wall behind me as his voice drones on, battling the heaviness tugging on my eyelids, my eyes tearing up with the confusing threat of sleep. My attention begins to dip until I only hear snippets of the stableman’s voice.
‘…and the thing about Ingvorts, is that you’ve got to grab them by the horns and assert dominance very early on… terrible tempers… broke my leg it did…’
I yawn, not even bothering to hide it, as my vision slowly edges with a soft frame of darkness. But I’m not tired, I think as my conscious mind protests against my body as it screams for sleep.
As though hit by a crash of wind, the stuffiness of the candlelit room is suddenly penetrated by a cold that snuffs out the flames from their wicks in one big ominous breath.
I smell the smoke before I see it billow into the room in my narrowed vision, consuming everything possible until I am surrounded by nothing but the absolute darkness of night.
My blood turns cold.
He is here. And I am certain he will be my death.
‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited to finally see you, Princess,’ his voice echoes from no particular direction, and I am defenceless against it, dazed by the sudden shift in the room.
This is how I die. In the dark, without even coming face to face with my murderer, paralytic with the horror of it. I feel my face contort in a weep, but the sound does not make it past my lips.
‘You’re afraid,’ he says, from the left and the right and in front of and behind me.
The room vibrates with a deep resounding chuckle.
‘You certainly scare easily. Just the thought of me makes you weak with fear. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed that I don’t have to employ much power to break you, I had expected a little more pushback from a Reyheni royal. ’
The ghost of his breath caresses my nose.
I feel the presence of his face in front of mine, but I remain blind with the darkness.
I breathe deep. It would be a dishonour to my entire bloodline to die without at least trying to survive.
I owe it to my father, to my people, to myself. I have to muster up some power.
I dig deep inside myself, where the smouldering embers of my newly manifested ability reside. I will not let him extinguish it fully, I have to keep it burning with every ounce of life coursing through my body. Please Orlaith, I plead with the Goddess of fortune, I need power.
But it’s no use. I know I have to do this on my own. The gods don’t answer prayers wept in weakness. I delve inwards again, screaming internally for my power to rise, grabbing at it with both frantic hands and hauling it up to the surface.
There in my fingertips, my skin sparks with energy, and finally, cupped in my palms is a handful of fire.
The best I can do. A measly display of my strength in comparison to the wildfire I produced this morning.
My hands tremor with the flicker of the flames, and I dare a look up into the light it releases above me.
His face is a sickening sight of pure malice, the red glow of my power engulfing his eyes with the illusion of the anti-god’s inferno as he looms over me.
The sharp features of his face, casting shadows that make him seem all the more gaunt and lifeless as he grins with diabolical amusement at my desperate attempt to fight against his spell of smoke and shadow.
‘Finally.’ He drinks in the dread in my eyes. ‘You wish to play.’
I grind my teeth. Of course, this is a game to him.
The toying with my mind, the petrified weeping to the gods for salvation.
Even the tears that escape down my cheeks as I try to gather up enough courage to speak my case.
He genuinely relishes the torment of my hopeless attempt at survival, and I will not give him the satisfaction of it being in vain.
‘You do not scare me.’ It comes out a pathetic croak more than a daring statement of defiance. He raises his eyebrows.
‘The racing of your heartbeat indicates otherwise, Princess.’ My title sounds like violent strike on his tongue.
Can he really hear my heart pleading to break out from my chest?
The thought of it makes me feel nauseatingly vulnerable, especially as he crouches down and leans in closer, our faces now inches apart.
‘Oh, come on now.’ I can taste the metallic tang of his breath. ‘I expected you to be a lot more fun, Princess. Why so sour? I was under the impression you were rather partial to some teasing.’
I retreat back from him in pure disgust, horrified at the very notion of enjoying the company of so vile a creature as him.
‘What the hell do you want from me?’ I spit. The flames in my hands swell, as does the heat that radiates from it. It’s searing but at least it’s stronger. More powerful.
He feigns an arrow to the chest. ‘Such hostility, Princess. You have me wounded.’
‘Did you come here to hurt me? To scare me unto submission? Because you may have had me fooled with all your shadowy scare tactics and your words of threat, but what kind of weapon is smoke and darkness when it actually comes to killing me?’ I erupt.
And he only takes pleasure in it. He rubs a hand over is mouth and looks around in the dark that encircles us, before turning back to me.
This time his eyes are on the fire in my palms.
‘I already told you. I came to have a look at you.’ The words are saturated with an agitation that I can’t understand.
He came here just to see me? There is no possible world I can imagine where that makes sense in this situation.
He is here, in the very kingdom where the Relic is kept, standing before the sole heir to the throne and all he wants to do is look?
‘You really expect me to believe that’s why you’re here? That you being here has nothing to do with the Virtuae Re—’
‘I don’t give a fuck about your Relic,’ he snarls. I can’t even hide the shock from my face.
‘Well, I’m afraid you are not welcome here, you twisted shadow bastard. Go back to your hellhole.’
The energy in me drones louder in my bloodstream, the current surges through my arms and pulses out to the flame in my hands until it slowly sparks brighter.
‘You’ve seen what I am capable of conjuring,’ I threaten, knowing full well it’s taking all my strength to keep this pathetic excuse of a fire burning.
This earns a scoff from him, and he leans towards the flames.
He hovers both cupped hand over the fire.
The sound of sizzling ensues, but the aroma of burning flesh neglects to fill the air. He grins.
‘And you have no idea what I’m capable of destroying.’
The light from my skin dims completely as his cupped hands meet mine, his touch both glacial and blistering, his smoke tingling between us as it streams out from his hands.
I gasp at the violation of the act, sinking back into the complete dark in the absence of my flame.
A gust of wind erupts, and I slam my eyes shut in reaction, the smell of charred cedar and beeswax swirling my senses in the gale.
My body sways, the wind comes to an abrupt halt, and I hesitantly blink my eyes open again.
I am back in the glow of candlelight.
The stableman’s voice muffled but returning at a steady rate to my ears.
I search the room frantically for any signs of smoke or lingering shadow, disorientated and desperate for signs that my senses aren’t playing another cruel trick on me.
‘Eira?’ Lillienne’s voice rings. I find her sitting on a pew across from me, unmoved and alarmed at my sudden panic.
‘He was here.’ I stare at her wide eyed, my breath trembling in my throat.
‘Who was here? It’s just been us the whole time, Eira. Just us and Mr Erskine.’
My neck snaps to the stableman, sitting on the stool, a disturbed look on his face and his hat clenched tight in his fist on his lap.
How could they not have seen him? He was right here, all dark and taunting.
A cold caress traces the bare skin of my chest.