Chapter 23
Elariya
To get the hells out of this place, I had to use my time magic.
And I had to learn how to phase.
One step at a time, though. Get the grip on my time magic first, then tackle phasing.
Both were serious challenges for someone like me, who not only had no memories of what I’d previously learned but was also out of touch with her magic.
But I had to do it.
I leaned forward in my chair and focused on the stag beetle I'd found in the garden crawling across the table.
In the subtle lights of the library, its amber-patterned shell caught the warm glow of the candles, making it look like a tiny piece of living jewelry against the dark wood.
The creature crept along, completely unaware of the magic I was about to attempt on it.
Around me, the library held its breath. Floating books drifted between shelves, rearranging themselves, and candlelight trembled in the draughts that slipped through the towering stacks.
The quiet felt watched, and even here, buried in the manor’s farthest wing, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being contained.
I drew in a deep breath, shoved my nerves aside, and focused on the spell I'd found in the book Arielle had given me.
It was one of the first spells a mage would learn at the academy to harness control over the elements of time.
"Kythara vel'neth, thaelon mi'dar. Seren'dor kalanis, veridian talar," I muttered, doing my best to keep my voice loud enough for the spell to take, but low so no one would hear me.
In the common tongue the words meant: ‘Time bend and slow within my control. Let the threads weave beneath my will.’
I was trying to replicate the same thing I did in Morg?ven when I slowed the magic around the sword. But this attempt was meant to be guided by intention rather than desperation, shaped by the spell's structure instead of pure instinct.
For a heartbeat, the spell worked. Magic thrummed through my veins while a subtle golden gleam surrounded my hands and enveloped the beetle. A warm tingling spread through my fingertips, like electricity dancing under my skin, and the creature's movements became sluggish.
Eagerly, I watched the beetle.
Each step stretched into a slow motion as if it were moving through thick honey.
My heart leaped with triumph as its left side stalled completely.
But then something shifted. The air crackled and fizzed. The beetle's antennae twitched, then suddenly, it lurched forward with surprising speed, as if breaking free from invisible chains.
Damn it. I’d lost control.
The poor beetle scuttled across the remaining distance of the table in quick, jerky movements, completely free of my magical influence. I caught it just before it could make its escape over the edge and placed a glass over it. I wasn't done trying yet.
I pulled in a deep breath and steadied myself. Mustn’t get frustrated or fret.
I’d known from years of reading my grandmother’s books that nothing slowed magical progress faster than frustration. Of course, back then, I shouldn’t have been reading her books or attempting spells, but I couldn’t be blamed. I was a mage, and I was only doing what I was born to do.
This spell wasn't working the way I'd hoped, but it was important I stayed focused and positive. Forget the impending timeframe and concentrate on what I needed to do. Getting upset was fruitless. It wasn’t as though I was used to any of this. I was running on a wing and a prayer.
The wing being the fact that I’d used this type of magic before. At least I knew how to connect with it.
I glanced at the large oak doors. I’d sought the refuge of the library for the privacy. And access to resources—like the map I’d managed to find. I’d tucked it between the cloth covering of my journal.
I’d come in here before nightfall, after spending the day finishing my second read of my journal, reviewing the spell book, and taking notes.
I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed as much down here as I would be if I were in my room. I was buried at the back of the furthest wing of the manor, where no one seemed to go.
I also thought no one would question me if they did go looking for me—which they most likely would. What they would see was me trying to do exactly as Wolfe instructed.
They would never guess that his weak little Ziyka was planning to make a run for it.
Weak.
No. I wasn’t weak. Not intentionally. There was a vast difference between weakness and being out of your depth.
I was way out of my depth last month when I first came to the magical realm.
But coming here rejuvenated me, teaching me things I’d never done. I was even able to save myself and Wolfe from a hoard of rebels after I’d realized that my magic could make things age within the space of seconds.
Earlier, as I thought about how I was going to escape, the whole aspect of my magical capabilities struck me anew. Opening my eyes to the fact that I was no longer out of my depth.
I could use magic, too. Just like everyone else.
And… I had something none of them had.
The power of time.
Back in Morg?ven, it was my time magic that enabled us to free Wolfe. Had I not used it, he would have died. The magic placed on the sword would have consumed him. Killed him.
We would have all died. It was by my magic that Wolfe was free and able to get us out of that Godsforsaken realm.
My magic. Not Arielle’s, Bastian’s, Alaric’s, Garrick’s, or even Wolfe’s.
Mine.
And it was my magic that was needed to find the ring that had chosen to hide on a temporal plane, trusting in me that I would find it.
I definitely hadn’t given myself enough credit. That changed now.
Now that I needed my magic to save my family. But there were two obstacles standing in my way: the magical shackle around my wrist and the actual getting out of here.
The shackle would alert Wolfe if I tried to escape. The plan was to slow—or even freeze—the magic on the shackle so he wouldn’t be able to sense me or know where I went when I left. I also planned to cloak myself with a spell that would either slow down anyone who tried to track me or stop them.
That was why I was practicing on the beetle. And I needed to more than just feel the magic.
In Morg?ven, I had Arielle and Alaric helping me, and I only needed to slow time for a few seconds to enable them to get to Wolfe.
This would be different.
I needed to control time with a spell.
If I could control the beetle, I’d also be able to do the same with an inanimate entity like the spell on the shackle, no matter how powerful it was. Time followed no rules but its own.
I needed to see how long the spell would hold, and, more importantly, if it would stay under my control.
Controlling the spell enabled me to switch it on and off at my will. And the best part?
Time magic was not like the other source elements that flowed from the Fray. It responded only to itself. So, once I activated a spell, only I or another wielder of the elements of time could deactivate it.
Meaning no one here would be able to find me. Sure, they’d know I was heading home; I knew that. But the goal was distance.
I just needed to get home.
Despite everything that was said about the dangers, I couldn’t imagine Wolfe or any of the others tearing me away from my family if I was already there with them. Especially if they had no plan.
It was a vague hope, but I was relying on the dissention between them. I at least knew that Alaric and Arielle were on my side—even if they were bound to Wolfe.
That just left the actual getting away. Since I couldn’t run away from four-winged Fae warriors and a powerful mage, and I doubted the dragons would turn on their master and allow me to fly them, phasing was the answer.
Yes, I’d portalled before, but that was by accident. I had no idea how to do it again, and even if I did, I didn’t trust myself quite yet with such a high-level ability.
Phasing was similar to portaling but drew on elemental magic from the natural currents of Galaythia to allow you to pass through the Void. So, essentially, you wouldn’t be using your own magic like with portaling.
I’d never done it before on my own. But I had a work-around.
I was going to use Galdrlore, the main spell casting system used by the Fae and other beings who couldn’t command the Fray’s power.
It was simple spell casting. I just needed to use a spell to unlock a gate in the Void, then I’d have to try to navigate it. That’s why I’d needed the map.
The plan was to reach the Borderlands as quickly as possible, then buy or barter passage through the Veil. Then I’d get back to Stormfell by horse.
It sounded straightforward, but I knew there were many ways that plan could go wrong.
So, so many ways. I might not be able to get as far as the Borderlands nor get someone who was willing to break all the laws between the magical and mortal realm to get me through the Veil, and even if I managed to overcome those, I might get to the mortal lands and find myself unable to secure a horse or passage to Stormfell.
It was a little over two days’ ride from the Veil borders to Stormfell.
And that was if you encountered a smooth travel—at least that’s what Father used to say.
Traveling through the Borderlands meant passing through mage realms like the Ravenwood, where Mother and Grandmother were from.
They were lands I’d always dreamt about visiting.
Hopefully, if I ran into any trouble, I’d be able to find some respite or assistance there.
I knew I needed all the help I could get. I had three days to make this happen.
Three days before Thayden returned to Stormfell.
If tonight went well, I’d leave in the morning and take it from there.
That was the plan.
I sighed heavily. Enough thinking. Back to the beetle.
It had started batting its wings frantically against the glass, tiny legs scrabbling for purchase as it tried to escape its transparent prison.