LVII | KING AND QUEEN
She looked up. When Celvene met the dragon's form, she realized Zelphar was riding the dragon—with Aleksandr sitting right behind him. The king of Noriya was untouched, cape billowing behind him.
Aleksandr, however, had seen better days. His entire body was stained crimson, a glazed pain swimming in his pale eyes. Slumped over, he gripped his side, and Celvene had a feeling that Zelphar's corruption magic could not heal. It could only harm.
I did that. Somehow, I did that. Or... did Zelphar?
When she looked at Melantha, a pained, vacant expression overtook her features, like she was gazing into an abyss. Celvene moved to grab her, to shake her, to reassure her. Anything to let her know that her monster of a father could not hurt her.
Aleksandr didn't seem to process his daughter stood before him, his vacant expression revealing his physical torment—and maybe mental, too. All this time, and Celvene still hadn't seen Melantha and Aleksandr speak. Perhaps that was for the better.
"Well done. I did not believe you'd have it in you," Zelphar said, lips curling up in an odd grin, and Celvene paused in her tracks, glancing back up at Zelphar.
The corners of the smile shook. Celvene swore she could see the sheen of tears in his eyes, even from far away.
"Of course, this was not the full extent of our power.
It was merely us sending a message, though I suspect this will be the last time we must resort to measures such as these.
Your city knows its end approaches. But I will not keep my troops in a losing battle.
You may have won the battle, but you have not won the war. Keep that in mind."
"We will not fall so easily," Celvene said. She curled her hand into fists, and for just a moment, it felt like they were still coated in blood. She wondered if she'd have the courage to use corruption magic once again—against the very man who cursed her with the ability. "Aizasea will not relent."
Zelphar chuckled, though the laughter was flat and mirthless. He curled his hands around the reins of his dragon, and the creature snarled, pleased. "If that helps you sleep at night, let it run freely through your head. Let it sing as loudly as it pleases."
"Your army is gone, Zelphar. Are you looking to follow their path?" Celvene stood, and though it still made her woozy to stand, she raised one of her hands. With the other, her fingers brushed her runespowder, which was almost empty.
If they were to fight, Celvene was going to need to make her spells count.
She knew, realistically, she couldn't fight a god and win.
But her father... he was a god. She had the same blood as him.
If anyone in the city could take down Zelphar—or at least buy citizens more time to escape—it was her.
Her, or Oriel, Celvene supposed. But they seemed out of commission.
"Oh, my army is far from gone, Celvene. We will meet again, little queen. Your city is safe for now. But we will have our way," said Zelphar, smiling. The sight made Celvene's stomach churn.
"You can't get off that easily!" shouted Celvene, fumbling to open her runespowder. When she did, her hands moved on instinct, and she conjured a fire spell. Flames lit to life in her hands, and as she gritted her teeth, she could feel tears prick at her eyes.
Beside her, Melantha loaded an arrow into her bow and released it before Celvene could process what had happen. The arrow whizzed through the air, almost grazing Zelphar's jaw, but the god didn't so much as blink.
Zelphar's grin widened. "I fear it is too late for your party tricks to stop us, Celvene. I know the truth. You have given yourself to the art of corruption magic, and I'm afraid that leaves you connected to me. You are my puppet, and I am your master."
Celvene's hands shook, but she didn't entertain Zelphar with a response. Another arrow flew through the air, straight for Aleksandr, beside her. The arrow disntegrated mid-air as Zelphar clenched his fist.
Celvene hurled her fire at Zelphar's dragon, and though it collided with the garnet scales, the dragon remained unaffected. It flapped its wings, sending a gust of wind out, and her flames extinguished with a sharp hiss.
"Oriel, can you hit them with something?" asked Celvene, but when she looked at the scholar, they looked to be half-conscious, eyes drooping. Celvene clenched her teeth, but she needed to get rid of Zelphar and Aleksandr before tending to Oriel. "Melantha, can you—"
Another arrow. This one lodged itself into the neck of the dragon, and the creature cried out in pain, stamping its front paws against the ground.
Celvene dumped more runespowder into her hand, keeping herself upright as the ground shook, but before she could cast an ice spell, she was interrupted by a deadly voice.
"Good luck on your journey," said Zelphar, voice low, and with that, he lifted his reins in the air and brought them down with one swift movement. "Just remember: I did not fight for a reason. Do not celebrate this victory too hastily."
The dragon took off, though its flight was rocky. It soared through the gap in the ceiling, vanishing into the twilight sky. Even if Celvene's energy wasn't seeping from her bones and making her eyelids droop, she doubted she'd be able to take down the dragon.
And perhaps it was for the best—while she'd won tonight, she wasn't ready to face Zelphar. Not yet.
He'd plucked arrows out of the air like it was nothing. He wielded the same magic as her. And he was right—he had a reason to not fight. Celvene didn't know what it was, but for him to flee so easily, she had a hunch it wasn't good.
But there was news to celebrate tonight. Not just her victory of Aleksandr—there was a promise of a new future. A prosperous future.
Aizasea had survived this day.