Chapter 13 #2
Her eyes floated over Avarice, taking in the Aurora Sister’s light that bathed the city while her thoughts continued to wander.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. Aela rubbed her upper arms as a chill overtook her.
Preoccupied by Tarek’s demands and her own plans, she didn’t notice the black vapor that drifted through the open windows into her apartment, merging with the shadows under the furniture and in the corners of the bookshelves.
A thin shadow licked at her ankle, and Aela jumped, nearly falling through the open window.
Air abandoned her lungs as the city streets leapt up, dizzying her.
She snapped her eyes shut, trying to orient herself and not get sick.
With her arms bracing either side of the window, she waited until the nausea passed before stumbling back, keeping her eyes closed.
She fell onto the plush carpet behind her and rolled onto her side, hugging her knees to her chest.
I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.
Warmth threatened behind her eyes, and they shot open to banish the tears.
“No,” she growled to herself. “Keep it together.”
Sitting up, Aela pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, smearing the dark cosmetics that Tarek preferred she wear and pressing her tempestuous emotions deeper into her being.
Not now. I can break later.
She exhaled a harsh breath and dragged her eyes back to the open windows. “I have to get over this.”
The irrational fear would be the death of her sooner or later; she couldn’t afford this weakness.
She took small steps and forced herself to the edge of the floor-to-ceiling opening.
Even in the face of her fear, the curious part of her mind sparked to life.
It had been a long time since Aela had a pleasant dream where she soared above the waves of Solara.
What would it be like to fly, to be free? For it to be real?
Aela sighed as she pivoted away from the black velvet sky and made her way through her apartment.
Resting her hands on the marble countertop of the bathing room, she stared at the crystal bands around her wrists.
She closed her eyes and sought her magic.
Her elemental power crackled and flared, seeking release.
She tilted her head. There was a calmer, slumbering part too that didn’t acknowledge her delving.
A tug flared in her gut, and Aela homed in on the sensation, on the need that bloomed there.
Guided by a deep-rooted instinct, she opened her eyes and carefully, so as not to break them, slid the crystal bands off. At once, her power swelled beneath her skin, and she gritted her teeth against the strain of magic.
“This can’t be happening. This is impossible,” Aela gasped.
She could sense it then. Along with the violent lightning inside her, a milder presence lived—the water element of her Line that still eluded her. Tears, which had obeyed her chiding earlier, fell from her eyes and splashed onto the counter.
She tried to call forth only the water by closing her eyes and softly singing a lullaby her mother had sung to her as a youngling. Searing heat shot from her instead and shattered the mirrors mounted above the counter.
Having heard the crash, Zosma’s firm hands gripped her shoulders and spun her around. His face was carefully neutral as he scrutinized her for injury. Finding she was unharmed, his gaze collided with the crystal bands on the counter.
“Does this happen every time you take them off?” he asked quietly.
“This is the first time I’ve taken them off outside of...” A voice in her head told her to stop talking, but Zosma had not betrayed her after The Games. Maybe she could trust him.
Fates, I just feel so tired.
“I don’t know…” She helplessly peered into Zosma’s face, seeking answers she knew she wouldn’t find. His compassion drew more of the truth from her, and her gaze drifted.
“The lightning wants to come out. It’s all I can do to keep it contained. But it’s all wrapped up with my emotions and the—” she hesitated. “It’s unnatural,” she finished, letting her gaze refocus as she watched him study her. “We were not created to be controlled like this.”
“Whatever you do, don’t tell them,” Zosma said. “Look. There’s someone who might be able to help, but it will take me a few days to figure out a way to get you to her.”
Before she could reply, he left without another word.
Once he was gone, Aela looked around her ruined bathing chamber.
She couldn’t risk the use of small magic to clean up the mess, and the crystals Aela had traveled to Avarice with were long gone.
To keep her reliant on him, Tarek hadn’t outfitted Aela with anything aside from a selenite shard to steadily recharge her magic—not that she could wield her power, bound in crystal bands.
Selenite was the preferred communication stone of the realm, and it was a necessity for her to be at Tarek’s beck and call. She sighed and crouched down, gathering the fragmented pieces of the mirror when she saw the shadows beneath the counter move.
“Whatever you are,” she addressed the patch of darkness in a defeated tone, “you might as well come out. I know you’re there.”
The shadow seemed to still as it sensed her addressing it.
Aela wasn’t sure she was fully aware of what she was doing as she acknowledged the writhing darkness.
Maybe she was experiencing the effects of the crystal bands already and hallucinating.
She straightened with a groan and looked at the shards of mirror cupped tenderly between her hands.
Her shattered reflection stared back at her.
It was an accurate depiction of how she viewed herself: broken.
Aela clenched her hands and watched as blood seeped between her knuckles and coursed down her forearms. Grounded in the pain that throbbed inside her palms, Aela forced her hands open.
Crimson knives, none of which angled the same, pierced her flesh.
She sucked in a sharp breath and backed against the cold tile wall, sliding down to the floor to land among the other shards of mirror she hadn’t gathered.
The dark patch beneath the counter slithered closer to her.
Curious, Aela ignored the pain as the shadow thickened like the feeling of air after a heavy rainfall.
The next thing she knew, warmth wrapped around her ruined hands, and the shards of glass dissolved before her eyes.
Her blood vanished into the floor tiles, and the remaining shards of glass around her floated into the air before inserting themselves back into the mirror, magically making the mirrors above the vanity whole again.
Her gaze fell back to her open palms that rested on her thighs.
Smooth skin remained. Not even the calluses from her work in the mines marred her hands. She narrowed her eyes.
“What are you?” she wondered aloud.
The Darkness stirred over Avarice, city of Taurus, as a tendril of shadow traced a hair’s breadth over the wards surrounding the ancient starcity.
Certain non-elemental magics were an innate gift from the Gods and in the wake of their masters’ abandonment, the celestials had thrived—making advancements that would do the Gods proud.
Too bad they would never get the chance to see how their prized creations fared. Cowards.
They thought they could contain him. They thought they could stow him away, take what was his, and leave unscathed. Darkness can’t be contained. It has a way of slithering out.
Of course, wards were useless against The Darkness, but it gave the celestials something to toil over before their ultimate demise.
The Darkness smiled cruelly. He liked when they scurried—when the best of what the Gods created fled or tried to assemble a brave front to stand against him. It was a futile attempt.
Blacker than black vapor billowed and roiled over and within itself as agitation spread through The Darkness.
He had felt it—her power, flaring across the realm like salvation all those years ago—before The Darkness seeped through the restraints the Gods placed upon him.
The cage had slowly weakened and grown less rigid in the absence of the Gods.
Only after a millennium of isolation did the prison confining him yield to his will. The Darkness grinned to himself.
Soon.
What once seemed so distant would soon be within his mighty maw. Soon he would claim what rightfully belonged to him. Soon he would have his revenge.