15. Esther #2
When I look out past the white stone archway and into the uncovered courtyard, my breath falters as I appreciate the view of the mountains and sea.
Trees within the small courtyard somehow thrive with pink and white flowers, as if the natural climate beyond the walls doesn’t affect them.
Past the room is a view out into the open, no roof or walls, just pure magic as the mountains surround it.
A subtle breeze sweeps through, catching on some fallen petals that tumble and dance together, yet there is no chill to the room.
Another gold bowl is knocked over, and I angle the blade toward the commotion happening behind the dressing screen as I approach it.
Grimace’s nose leads, sniffing out whatever is causing the commotion. Whatever they are, they’re a mixture of light and dark, and I can sense they are curious about my own magic.
Circling around the changing screen, I find three tiny beings with wings.
Their skin is the color of coal, and their wings are vibrant flames.
My eyebrows furrow when I see two of them tying up another on the floor, who’s trying to wriggle free.
When they see me, they panic and throw the third at my feet as a sacrifice and fly across the room, saving themselves.
I lean back out of their way, the little beasts combusting as they fly past. The third one tries to wriggle free, screaming and squealing as I loom over it.
It’s no bigger than the length of my finger.
This one appears to be female, with curves and long hair that doesn’t look right on something so small.
She’s facedown, the back of her ankles and wrists tied behind her back, and so I lean over and pinch the rope to bring her to eye level. She screams and wriggles until suddenly she bursts into flames.
“Ow, fuck,” I curse as my fingers singe, then she falls, screaming, and I catch her before she hits the ground. Her chest rises and falls as she realizes I’ve most likely saved her from an untimely death, but she does not look the slightest bit pleased or grateful.
“Fire pixies,” Regent says over my shoulder. I turn, not having sensed he snuck up on me, too preoccupied by the commotion before me.
“I’ve never seen them before,” I admit, fascinated. “I’ve only read stories, but I thought they were Felia blessed and prone to dark magic?” The little pixie turns her head in the other direction, as if offended to even speak to me.
“They were born of these grounds, so they are neither good nor bad. Certainly not loyal to one another,” he says, giving the other two a stern look.
They sheepishly fly over, perching on his shoulders, and begin mischievously tugging at his hair.
The other female looks besotted with Regent, but the male is focused on the one I hold, and he’s poking out his tongue.
“If you play nice, I can help you,” I say to the little fire pixie who side-eyes me. “Or I can give you back to your friends, tied up as you are. Maybe because of your attitude, I’ll even make you beg before I help you.”
Her face whips in my direction, and I try not to laugh as I hold out the edge of my knife. “They can understand me?”
“Pixies are intelligent. They’ve learned the human tongue so they can easily play pranks, but they will not speak anything other than their own language. They think themselves higher than humans and greer.”
“I somewhat agree.” I nick the edge of the rope, and it quickly falls loose, evaporating into smoke.
Her translucent red wings glow as she stands and dusts herself off.
Grimace crawls down my arm, sniffing her.
When she spots him, her eyes grow large, and the two gravitate toward one another, circling with interest.
“What is this place? Why doesn’t the cold reach here?
” I ask, looking around the small courtyard.
But as I look closer, I see the subtle flutter up ahead.
The white and pink petals I thought had fallen before have wings.
When my invisible chains seek past the little fire pixies, I start tasting the other elements.
More pixies come closer, some with earth-toned wings. Others with wings of flowing water, fluttering. Some are bright white and look like feathers. I comfort myself in the unfamiliarity of wind magic.
“This is the bathing chamber. It’s protected by the pixies. It is said that Neina once bathed in these chambers herself.”
I look to Regent. “I didn’t know the gods appeared.”
He casually shrugs. “So it’s said. Nonetheless, the pixies keep it in order, in case she or the harvest god ever return.”
The pixies seem to swarm Regent, circling him in keen interest and reverence.
It reminds me of the way he calmed the stormbears.
I don’t entirely understand his type of magic, but whatever it is, it’s the opposite of mine.
Creatures and beasts alike often shun me, so to have one dancing on my open palm, as if trying to instigate Grimace to do the same, feels nice.
Small, hot footsteps tap against my open palm as she steps back and forth, her hips swaying to a tune that the other pixies seem to hear, but I cannot.
It must be nice to live in a place like this, far away from humans and the wars.
“They’ll run you a hot bath, and I brought a change of clothes,” Regent says as he throws garments over the changing screens.
At the mention of the bath, the pixies flutter into motion.
Those with fire wings come to the edge of the bath in unison with the water pixies, and they push together the elements that come from their hands, tripling the size of them to create steamy water.
Six earth pixies flutter over the bath, some dropping bath salts, and the others dancing in the air with the pink and white petals.
One of the wind pixies, however, comes to sit on my shoulder, seemingly bored as he sighs.
Regent reaches over and taps him on the chin. “The wind pixies may not make a grand show of their power, but they’re important in their role of maintaining the barrier to keep the cold and other things out.”
The wind pixie’s back straightens, delighted with the praise, and he flies off again, dancing through the air with another male wind pixie. It’s wholesome watching something so pure yet mischievous.
Regent begins to remove his leather hooded coat, revealing the deep red gash from his recent wound in his arm, and the still-faint hue of dark veins beneath.
The poison isn’t yet done with him, but he moves with grace, most likely hiding the stiffness that his body should be experiencing.
Then he goes to remove his shirt, and I slam my hands on his chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Relax, little greer. The bath is all yours. I need to go further down, closer to the water to heal.” He juts his chin toward the ocean. “Besides, someone needs to remain on lookout.”
“Because of the pixies?”
“I told you that most beasts don’t come to a holy ground such as this.
But I never said it doesn’t happen. Although, thanks to you, we may have a guest appear at any time.
Of the assassin type. I’ll remain on watch.
You enjoy your bath,” he says as he removes his shirt completely, revealing the blue tattoos and scars.
In the light, I can see them better. They look old and painful, some of them even crusted in parts as if influenced by infection. Or perhaps even a curse.
“If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll assume you do want me to join after all,” Regent calls out, and I immediately divert my eyes. The same fire pixie whom I helped only moments ago flies up to my face, laughing.
“Do you still like those pretty little wings of yours?” I grit out, trying to hide my embarrassment. Her jaw drops open, and then she throws her arms over her chest and flutters off.