Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Rylan
The eyes of each council member meet mine as I stare at them, moving down the assembly table. “My sources tell me the rebels are probably planning to move during the Solstice. It’s a time when the kingdom is vulnerable, when our guards will be spread thin from all the events, and they know it. We’ve already noticed smaller movements—scouts, preparations—but nothing overt yet. They’re careful. They don’t want to tip their hand too early.”
The room falls silent as the information sinks in. I can feel the unease spreading, each of them trying to measure the scope of what we’re up against.
“Do we have confirmation on where they plan to strike first?” Duke Ornero asks, his voice tight with concern.
I glance at Mathis, who gives a slight nod. “Nothing concrete yet. But based on our most recent reports, their strategy appears to focus on the northern and eastern villages along our borders with Avaron and Solthera.” I let the pause hang for a moment before adding, “We need to divert attention there, but subtly. If we act too quickly, we risk alerting them and pushing their plans forward.”
The older councilman leans forward, his frown deepening. “This seems... coordinated. More than we’ve seen from the rebellion before.”
He’s not wrong. “The Nira’th Darin have grown more organised,” I confirm, naming the rebellion movement.
“Any sightings or word on Kyros Valen?” Father asks, his eyes unreadable, but I know he’s taking in every word.
I gesture to Mathis. “Captain Corvane?”
Mathis takes a step forward. “No word of Nira’th Darin’s leader for a few weeks now, Your Majesty. Last we heard, he was seen crossing the Khandyrr border.”
“Probably shoring up support in the coastal town,” I add.
“Who do we have down there?” my father probes.
“I can send Yosef,” Mathis suggests.
I nod. That’s a good idea.
The memory of my recent conversation with Astoris echoes in my mind: “Solstice is looking like the opportune time for the rebels to hit the capital.” Four months. We have a lot to prepare for.
The council members nod slowly as I repeat the action plan for the coming weeks, the tension in the room eased and now replaced by quiet resolve.
Mathis steps back as I retake my seat, and my father clears his throat.
“Now that we have that settled, there’s another assignment we need to discuss for our crown prince.”
I bite back a sigh. What the fuck now?
I can’t help but feel a surge of pride as I watch Eira during our next session. She’s standing in the centre of the clearing, her eyes closed, her posture relaxed but focused. There’s a calmness about her that wasn’t there before, a quiet confidence that tells me she’s starting to understand the power she holds. The way the morning light catches the streaks of blue in her hair cascading down her back, the way her lips curve slightly as she concentrates is such a perfect combination of godsdammned adorable and alluring, I have to look away. She is naturally beautiful in a way that drives me to the point of distraction, and I have to remind myself to focus on the task at hand.
“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice breaking the stillness after the ten minutes we’d agreed to work on just breathing before every training session. She opens her eyes and nods, a determined glint in her gaze that makes my chest tighten. “Ready,” she says, her voice steady.
The urge to reach out, to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, is almost overwhelming, but I keep my hands at my sides. “I want you to form an orb like yesterday, but this time, I want you to shape it into something else—a blade, a shard. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just sharp and precise.”
She nods, closing her eyes again as she focuses on the stream of magic within her. I watch as she breathes deeply, her hands relaxing at her sides. There’s a brief moment of tension in her brow, but it smooths out as she finds that calm centre we worked on yesterday. I can’t help but notice the delicate curve of her neck, the way her lashes flutter slightly as she concentrates. I seriously need to pull my shit together before I drag her to the closest private corner of this fucking castle and bury my face between her legs, inhale in her scent until I get drunk on that sweet nectar flowing from her core.
Blinking away my carnal thoughts, I focus my attention back on her. Slowly, I see the magic begin to gather in her hand, forming a small, shimmering orb of water. It’s beautiful, but it’s just the beginning. “That’s it. You’ve got it. Now, shape it,” I say quietly, stepping closer, my voice barely above a whisper. I’m so close now that I can feel the magic radiating from her skin in ripples of heat, and I wonder if she feels it too. Focus, Rylan. “So, the mistake a lot of water wielders make is that when they think of water shaping, they think of it as making a knife made of water. The trick is imagining the purpose of the object, its intent, and simply using water as the medium to create it. Give it function rather than just form. That way your creation will be imbued with the essence of the object and not just the physical shape.”
Her brow furrows slightly, and I can see the concentration etched on her face. The orb begins to elongate, the edges sharpening as she pulls the magic into a narrow, blade-like shape. It’s a delicate process, one that requires a careful balance of control and intent, but she’s handling it well.
“Good,” I murmur, leaning in just a bit closer, my breath stirring the hair near her ear. I catch a hint of her scent—light and floral—and it sends a jolt of pure heat through me. I force myself to focus. “Keep going. Don’t rush it. Let it take the form you want, but don’t force it. Imbue it with life.”
She nods slightly, her breathing steady as she continues to shape the blade. The water shifts and flows, responding to her will with a fluid grace that’s mesmerising to watch. Slowly, the blade takes form, sharp and sleek, its edges glinting in the morning light .
“There,” I say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “You’ve got it.”
She opens her eyes and looks at the blade in her hand, a mix of awe and satisfaction in her gaze. The water blade gleams in the sunlight, its form sharp and precise, a testament to her growing mastery. I should step back, put some distance between us, but I don’t. I’m drawn in, closer than I should be, and when she looks up at me, our eyes meet, and the air between us seems to thicken.
“I did it,” she breathes, her voice filled with a mix of pride and disbelief.
“You did,” I agree, my own pride swelling in my chest, unable to ignore the way her lips part slightly as she catches her breath, the way her eyes shine with excitement. “Gods, your intelligence is remarkable. You…pick things up so quickly. Like you innately understand everything I’m saying.”
“Truly?” she asks, her teal eyes like vast oceans on a sunny day, all sparkle and shine.
“Truly.”
She lets out a sound of pure happiness. Fuck. I bet the sounds I could make her elicit from those pink lips just as she comes from my mouth on her would be fucking delicious.
“I guess that means I’m officially dangerous now,” she says with a playful grin, completely oblivious to the thoughts running rampant in my head as she twists her wrist and the blade twirls in her hand.
“Ha. You didn’t need a knife to cause me damage,” I say cryptically, running a hand through my hair. “But let’s keep the deadly sharp objects away from your mentor, shall we?” I conjure a water stick and jab the tip of her knife away from me.
Dodging my stick, she jabs the knife back in my direction as she laughs, the sound light and musical, and I feel it tug at something deep inside me. “Don’t worry, Rylan. You’re safe… for now,” she promises before curling her fingers inward, making the knife transform back into a perfect sphere that she throws up into the air before making it dissolve into thin air. Damn. Now that she’s gotten over her fear, she’s learning fast.
“That’s a relief,” I say, chuckling, though my heart skips a beat at the way she says my name. In that first week after she’d learned who I really was, she’d barely spoken my name. And now when she does use it, I forget how it ever sounded on any other’s lips.
I give her a few more shapes to practise, each one more detailed than the last. For the last one, I have her recreate the statue of one of the realm’s rarest creatures, the drakor, that stands guard at the castle’s entrance courtyard. Critically inspecting her first attempt, I give her a few more tips on how to shape more intricate forms, and she adjusts, taking in every word. Within minutes, she’s recreated the shape perfectly.
Trying to keep my voice from showing how impressed I am, I instruct her, “Keep it there,” I gesture to her hand, “I want to see how long you can hold onto the shape while doing other things.”
We wander over to a bench by the side of the training grounds. Eira sits down, still cradling the miniature drakor, examining it with a mix of curiosity and pride. I sit beside her, closer than I should, but not as close as I want to.
“You picked that up faster than I expected,” I say, breaking the silence.
She glances at me, a small smile on her lips. “It’s easier with you guiding me now. And not just yelling,” she says pointedly, knocking her leg against mine, making me freeze. “I feel like I can actually do this now.”
“You’re doing more than just ‘actually doing it,’” I reply, my tone light but sincere.
She looks down at the drakor, her fingers tracing the detailed edges. The movement draws my attention to her hands. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold them, to feel that strength and grace in mine. To feel them running through my hair and down to cup the nape of my neck as I’m—She’s your disciple.
She will be the future Aquilith.
Whatever you’re… thinking, can’t happen .
“Do you think I’ll be ready for the trials?” she asks, her voice pulling me out of my self-lecture.
I pause, considering her question carefully. “You’re on the right track,” I say finally. “But there’s still a lot to learn. The Keeper Trials are designed to push you to your limits, to test not just your skill but your endurance, your creativity, your ability to adapt under pressure. It’s not just about power—it’s about how you use that power.”
She nods, absorbing my words. “But… you think I have a chance?”
I gesture to the creature hovering above her hand. “I don’t have the smallest doubt, Eira.”
She smiles softly, and it makes my heart squeeze. Then she bites her lip for a moment, a question lingering before she asks, “You… have more than one Strength? I’ve seen you wield both water and fire. Is that common?”
I shrug, leaning over to pluck out a weed. “I wouldn’t say it’s common, but it’s not unheard of. Most people are actually capable of training to wield some basic magic in more than one essence, but rarely does it become strong enough to be considered a Strength.”
“Like you,” she says.
I nod. “And once you go through the Keeper binding ceremony after you win the final Keeper trial, that’s when you’re bound to the Keeper gemstone, every Essence has one, and anointed into the Keeper circle, all of your Strengths will become…enhanced. It just so happens, I have more than one.”
She nods, understanding. “So you were both Keeper of Fire and Water as well as Celestaris?”
“Not exactly. I became Emberon, Keeper of Fire, ten years ago. Then two years ago, when the Celestaris at the time retired, I competed in and won the Master Keeper quest to become Celestaris.” Memories wash over me. “In the past, the Celestaris would keep their Keeper position as well as Celestaris. But it’s become clear to me over the last two years that there should still be a full set of six Keepers, as well as the Master Keeper,” I explain.
She nods, mulling over my words. “Your father said you’d found a new Emberon, but also that you were responsible for the Aquilith role being unfilled. What did he mean?”
I grimace but force myself to answer. I owe her that much. “Er, in the final battle of the Celestaris quest… we fought and… he didn’t make it.”
Her eyes reflect the horror that I feel. “You… killed a Keeper?”
I grimace. “That wasn’t the goal. But it was the result. It happens. The Celestaris quest is… it’s, um, indescribable. And sometimes, people don’t make it.” Guilt floods through me.
She falls into silence, and I wish I could read the thoughts running through her mind. When she turns back to me, I can see the empathy in her eyes. “I’ve seen what you can do. I can’t imagine anyone beating you in a battle. Are you the strongest in the realm?”
“There’s always someone stronger, Eirabella. Don’t ever forget that.”
She tilts her head slightly, studying me. “Feeling chatty today?”
Her words catch me off guard, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest. She’s right. I do feel more comfortable with her, more at ease than I have with anyone in a long time. “I guess I am,” I say, my tone a bit softer. “You make it easy to be.”
“Hard work for me, though!” she exclaims, throwing her free hand in the air. “Getting you to talk is like squeezing water out of thin air.” She balls her hands into a fist around her water sculpture. A few seconds later, a small stream of water falls from her fist, and she grins, impressed with herself. “Apparently, it’s even harder than that. Maybe you should try making it easier for me.”
I smirk, temporarily losing the grip on my mask. Leaning in just a bit, I lower my voice to a teasing whisper. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She holds my gaze without a word, but then they seem to glaze over for a second, like she’s concentrating on something. And I realise too late that she’s opening her hand and conjuring a ball of water. She manoeuvres it so it’s hovering over my head.
“Don’t you dare!” I warn her. “Stick to my lesson plan, disciple!”
She throws her head back with a laugh that sounds like a fucking angel’s choir. And then she grins and says, “Where’s the fun in that?”
I barely duck out of the way before the water ball explodes over my head.