Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
Eirabella
“Time to stop holding back! They’re crossing the bridge!” Rylan shouts as I shoot a barrage of ice spears at a line of attackers lunging for me.
I spin, eyes locking onto the makeshift ramp that the rebels have built, a crude structure that spans the river and extends into the chaos of our defence. Already, I see the Celadorn soldiers struggling to hold back the wave of rebels charging across it. My pulse quickens, and I realise what needs to be done.
“Stand back!” I shout to the guards around me, my voice firm, slicing through the noise. I glance at Thynara, her eyes wide and luminous with concentration. “Is there any way for you to pull our troops back from the ramp?”
Thynara’s gaze flickers with resolve. “I can try.”
I watch as our soldiers near the enemy’s makeshift bridge pause, their expressions blanking momentarily before their feet move, staggering back as if compelled by an unseen force. Wow. Well, okay, now I know why Rylan brought her. It’s just a few moments, but it’s enough to create an opening for me. I take a deep breath, summoning the well of magic that churns at my core, feeling it spill into my fingertips, sharp and electric. The river answers my call, the water surging and swelling, roaring up in a torrent that reflects the wildness in my heart.
The first crash smashes down onto the ramp, rebels crying out as they’re swept into the raging current below. The wave surges forward, relentless. I breathe hard, every muscle tensed, feeling the power in my veins, raw and untamed. The bridge groans under the weight of my magic. The rebels slip, hands grasping at the air as they fall. But I’m not done. The magic demands more, clawing for release.
I raise my arms higher, eyes locked on the ramp that dares to hold its ground. The water roars louder, a tidal force poised on the brink. My pulse thunders, and with a surge that ripples through my entire being, I command the river. It obeys, crashing down with a force that sends tremors across the ground, splintering wood, crushing stone.
“I am limitless!” I scream, my very own war cry, the words cutting through the roar like a battle cry. The final wave smashes the ramp into jagged pieces, scattering debris into the churning water below.
The sudden silence on that front is deafening. I stand there, breath heaving, watching the water reclaim the remnants of the bridge. For a moment, the rebels hesitate, the momentum broken.
“Well, okay. I mean, I was... going to take care of that, but... I guess, never mind,” Rylan says, stepping up beside me, fireballs still flickering in his hands. His voice is light, but his eyes are full of admiration. I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips.
But then the exhaustion hits, a sudden weight pressing down on me. My knees buckle, and the world tilts. Rylan’s arm is around me in an instant, his hold strong, his eyes darkening with worry.
“You’re pushing too hard. Pull back now ,” he says, his tone urgent, protective.
Before I can respond, a deafening crash echoes from the East Tower. The ground shakes, and the noise of battle swells again, louder, more desperate. Rylan’s expression hardens, the brief moment of reprieve gone. He shouts to the soldiers still holding the line, “Stay! Don’t let them gain an inch!”
We break into a run, the sounds of the crumbling tower and renewed fighting propelling us forward. My limbs scream with exhaustion, but I push it down, clinging to the flickering embers of my power. The scent of burning flesh and the metallic bite of blood fill the air as we reach the East Tower, and the sight that greets us steals the breath from my chest.
The destruction is indescribable. Stone and debris and broken bodies are scattered like trash after a fair, smoke rising from the tower in thick, suffocating plumes. The ground is littered with the fallen, both ally and foe, their moans rising in a harmonic song of inhumanity. My heart clenches at the sight, but then I spot Mathis, battered but standing, his sword clutched in his hand. Relief surges through me, and I forget all protocol as I rush to him, pulling him into a fierce hug. His chest rumbles with a startled laugh, and I turn to Grellor, who is splattered with blood, pulling him into an embrace as well.
He grins, a wild gleam in his eyes as he notices me scanning his armour. “It’s okay, lass, it’s not mine. Some poor deluded soul thought he could sneak up on Mathis here, so I introduced him to Helena. Who un introduced his head to his neck.”
I pull back, laughing despite his words. “Who is Helena, Grellie? You have a lady you haven’t introduced me to, you big buffoon?”
Grellor barks a rough laugh and holds up his blood-slicked sword. “Gods, no. Only one female for me.” He lifts the blade a fraction higher. “This beauty is Helena.”
A shared chuckle ripples through us, a brief, precious moment of levity. But then Mathis’s expression darkens, his eyes scanning the destruction with a grim set to his jaw. “It’s bad,” he says, his voice low. “Half our forces are down. The initial attack was devastating. It came out of nowhere, and it was almost as though our soldiers were just hanging around waiting for something to happen, and then when it did, couldn’t react.”
I see the way he looks at Rylan, the unspoken acknowledgment of the dire situation passing between them. For the first time since this battle began, Rylan’s face flickers with something remotely close to worry. Before I can ask Mathis for more details, a sudden, panicked yell slices through the noise.
All of us turn toward the sound. Rylan reaches behind him, his hand searching in the chaos for mine, and I grab it, lacing my fingers with his and squeezing tightly as we push through the haze of smoke and carnage toward the shout. The destruction is staggering—stone blocks torn from the tower, gaping holes where walls once stood, and splinters of shattered wood jutting out like jagged teeth.
And then we see it.
The tower leans dangerously, cracks spider-webbing up its height, threatening to give in to gravity at any moment.
I scan the chaos, searching for an answer. My eyes catch on a series of fractured beams and a weakened base section just beneath the tower’s midpoint. An idea sparks, bright and reckless. Before Rylan can stop me, I tear away from his grasp and rush toward the tower.
“Eira!” he shouts, his voice sharp with alarm, but I don’t slow down. The tower groans, the sound a deep, throaty rumble that shakes the ground beneath my feet. I reach out, my magic surging in response. The river answers, threads of shimmering water rising and lacing through the air, coiling around the base of the crumbling structure like liquid vines. I grit my teeth and push harder, feeling the strain as I hold the weight of stone and wood aloft, freezing them in place.
“Hold!” I yell, voice straining against the roar of falling debris. The force of it trembles through my arms, cold and biting. The strain is almost unbearable, my muscles screaming, my breath ragged.
“I need Lira!!” I shout for the Terranir, the plea ripping from my chest. But amidst the cacophony, my voice is swallowed whole. The tower shifts, a splintering crack racing up its side. “Anyone here with Terra strength?” I scream again, desperation clawing at my throat.
“I’ll go find Lira!” Doran’s voice cuts through, understanding what I need, and I see him dart off, weaving through the chaos with a speed born of urgency.
My vision blurs, but I don’t let go. The water tightens its grip, the shimmering tendrils holding fast, buying precious seconds as I feel the world narrowing to the pulse of my own heartbeat. The roar of the battle fades for a moment, replaced by the sickening crunch of ice and stone shattering around me. Wringing every last ounce of my magic, I throw up another layer of ice around the tower, willing it to hold.
I said … I am fucking limitless!
“Eira, you’re going to burn out!” Rylan shouts just as there’s a surge of attackers along the front line.
“Go!” I yell, my voice raw. “You go where you’re needed! I’m okay!”
Mathis appears by my side, sword in hand. “I’ll guard her until Lira gets here,” he says to Rylan. “You need to go and take down their cannon or else all the magic in the world won’t hold this tower up.”
Rylan’s jaw clenches before he raises his hands and shoots his own water web up around the tower. Instantly I feel it strengthen. Leaning in, he whispers, “Just hold on a little longer, I’ll be right back.” He turns to Mathis. “Please…”
Mathis nods. “I’ve got her.”
Rylan gives me one last desperate look before he rushes off, and I feel my body shudder as the last of my magic hiccups out of me.
“I’m draining,” I whisper, the weight of the crumbling tower pressing on every nerve.
“I know,” Mathis admits, his voice tight with worry, “but I had to get him to go destroy their weaponry. We’ll have help as soon as Doran comes back with our Terranir. Just hold on.”
A sudden, blinding light arcs across the battlefield, and I look up just in time to see Rylan, fire blazing from his hands, incinerating the rebels’ weapons. Relief and awe wash over me, but it’s fleeting. A crack echoes from the other side of the tower. I stretch out my hand, drawing every last flicker of power left in me, and shoot up another layer of ice. It splinters almost immediately, and I gasp, throwing up another, more desperate shield. This one holds, but barely.
The strain is unbearable until I feel a familiar presence at my side. Doran steps up, hands raised, reinforcing my ice with his power, the layers thickening into a solid wall. He looks at me, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “What? I’m not completely useless. I need to prove myself so you’ll pick me for your cadre after all.”
A laugh bursts from my lips, strained but real. “You should have your own. I’m not better than you.”
His eyes glint with a mischievous warmth even in this chaos. “Ah, we both know that’s not true. But I have my value, too. I’m terribly handsome, you know. Girls love freckles.”
I open my mouth to respond, but a glint of metal catches my eye. An enemy arrow embeds itself into my ice wall around the tower. Before I can process what’s happening, the arrow explodes. The ice barrier shatters, splintering into a deadly hailstorm.
“Eirabella! Watch out!” Rylan’s shout is swallowed by the chaos. I throw myself to the ground, arms over my head as shards rain down like daggers, slicing through the air. We stay still until the sound of the ice falling quiets around us. It feels like a lifetime.
Then the silence that follows is suffocating.
Finally, I lift my head, vision blurred by sweat, mist, and dust. Doran is lying over me, his body a shield. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“I think so,” I breathe, glad that I can do so. “You?”
He smiles, the corners of his lips twitching. “Please. I’m a water wielder. Way better than the other Strengths.”
I laugh when I feel his body slump slightly. “I would suggest you roll off me unless you want my rather moody mentor to come over here and make you,” I say, trying for levity.
“Ah, would that I could, Eirabella,” he says, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before.
I frown “What? Can you get up?”
“Sure. But, I… think I might need a minute.”
But there’s a hitch in his voice and a slight tremor. Then he shifts, and something warm and sticky drips onto my back. I run my hand through it, and the truth dawns, slow and terrifying, like a nightmare refusing to let go.
No.
“Doran?” My voice trembles, barely a whisper. He winces as he tries to move, his face pale, his breaths shallow. I slide out from under him, trying not to notice the painful grunt that shudders out of him.
I kneel by his side, my eyes washing over his body.
And my heart stutters.
An icicle the length and width of my arm has impaled him straight through his torso, crimson spreading in a pool beneath him. My breath catches, and a scream claws at my throat.
“Doran? No. No,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes as if to rub away the sight. “No, no. This isn’t happening.”
He looks up at me, eyes bright with pain but still managing a weak smile. “Well, depending on what ‘this’ is, I think you might be wrong this one time.” His voice is barely more than a whisper, each word dragging against the air, forced and pained. He tries to smile, but the expression falters as he coughs, blood staining his lips.
“No,” I choke out, shaking my head in disbelief, clutching at his shoulder as though I can hold him here through sheer will. “Doran, listen to me… you’re going to be fine. I’ll… I’ll get help.” My voice cracks as I try to stand up, desperation clawing at my throat. “Help! Someone, please! He’s hurt!” The words are loud, yet they feel small, swallowed by the battlefield, the world turning its back on us.
His hand reaches for mine, his grip weak. “No. Eira…please don’t… don’t leave me.” His gaze is steady, piercing through the fog of pain, holding me still. “Please.”
“I…I have to get some help! Ill be right back.”
He grimaces as he tries to squeeze my hand. “Please. Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone. You’re… you’re my best friend, my only true friend here… Don’t leave me. Not now. Please. Just…just sit with me for a minute ” His voice wavers, but the sincerity in his words is like a knife to my heart.
I swallow, unable to step away, not with the pleading in his tone. I sink back to the ground next to him, scared to touch him, so I just squeeze his hand. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
Relief eases the fear on his face. “Good. I…I won’t be long. I…don’t think I have long.”
“No, no, don’t talk like that!” I whisper, pressing my hand over his, feeling the life slipping from him with each second. “You’re going to make it, Doran. You’re going to be fine. We promised… remember? That we’d join each other’s cadre, whoever became Aquilith. You’re not… you’re not leaving me now.” My voice breaks, the words tumbling out, desperate, pleading.
He smiles faintly, his eyes beginning to glaze, but he’s still here, still fighting to stay with me. “Promise me, Eira. You’ll… you’ll win the trial. For me. You’ll be the best Aquilith…” His voice falters, his breathing slowing to shallow gasps. “Better… than Selene… she’s going to be so furious when she loses to t he peasant. ”
A strangled laugh escapes me, tears blurring my vision. “She’ll be more than furious. I should pick her for my cadre just so I can make her polish my boots and fetch my tea every morning. But you’ll be there too. You’ll see. We’ll have a grand time torturing her.” I press his hand to my heart, trying to transfer every ounce of my strength, of my will to live, into him. “You’ll be right there beside me, Doran.”
A spark of humour lights his eyes, even as they begin to dim. “I’m imagining it now… Make her get…you snacks, her favourite ones. But I wouldn’t… wouldn’t… e-eat… them. Probably…poisoned,” he gasps, the words barely audible. “Wish…I could be there to see it.”
“You will be!” I can’t breathe. Why isn’t there any air in my lungs? “Just hold o-on,” my voice breaks, as I watch the scarlet bloom all over his tunic. His words trail off, his eyes glazed with the last flickers of humour. I swallow a sob, my hand trembling against his cheek. “You’re going to stay, Doran. You’re going to stay, and you’ll help me torture her!
He smiles faintly, his eyes beginning to glaze, but he’s still here, still fighting to stay with me. “Promise me, Eira. You’ll… you’ll find… Penalynn. Tell her I’m sorry. I wanted… I wanted to make the world safer for her. For us. That’s why… why I couldn’t ask her before…” He trails off, the pain flickering in his eyes matched only by the regret carved into his voice. A faint, heartbreaking smile touches his lips. “In my top drawer… there’s a box. It’s hers. Please… tell her… tell her she was always the one.”
“You are going to tell her yourself! Falon is going to make everything alright, and then I’m going to go with you to Brewer Falls and watch you get down on one knee and ask that girl to marry you once and for all!”
He frowns, fingers gripping my hand tighter, as if using the last of his strength. “Promise me! You need to promise me…I…I need to know…
My chest tightens, the enormity of what he’s asking hitting me like a blow. I nod, tears blurring my vision as I take his hand in mine, gripping it tight. “I promise, Doran. I’ll find her. I’ll tell her everything. She’ll know how much you love her… how you’ve always loved her.” My voice cracks, the promise clinging to the air between us, fragile as glass. He lets out a sigh, his grip loosening as his strength fades, and I press his hand to my heart, feeling his pulse grow fainter with each beat. “I’ll make sure she knows, Doran. I swear it.”
As the words leave my lips, he nods, barely there, his eyes drifting shut once more, his breaths slowing. "Good… good. Thank you." He lays back down, smiling up at me. “Closer…”
I ignore my tears dripping onto his face, mingling with the trail of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. “I’m right here.”
He blinks, breaths shallow, erratically raising his bloodied chest. “I knew, I…knew the first time I s-saw you, you w-were going to change everything. Master Gavrik too. Saw it all. Power…streaming…out of you. We b-believe…i-in…y-you. It was a…privilege… to lose… to you.”
“Doran. No. Stay with me,” I whisper, my forehead pressing against his, feeling the dampness of his hair against my skin, the soft, fleeting rhythm of his pulse. “Doran, stay. We’re not done yet. Please, please don’t go. I need you, my friend.”
“Be…the…best…Aquilith…for…me, my funny… brave friend… Keeper of…water. All….I…ever…wanted…to..be…”
I watch him slip away, every fibre of my being pleading for him to stay, to hold on just a moment longer. But his body relaxes, his last breath leaving him like the dying embers of a fire, until he lies still, an unfathomable quiet settling over us.
His hand limp in mine.
No.
No!
“Doran!!!” I scream, the grief hitting me like a tidal wave, hard, fast, drowning me in a single crash. The sobs come, hard and unrestrained, wracking my body. I sit there, unable to move, cradling his lifeless form as my heart fractures into a thousand pieces. The world around me blurs, the sounds of battle dulled to a distant hum, replaced by the unbearable silence where his voice used to be.
He’s gone, and I’m left with nothing but the aching void where he once was.
I hold him, numb and shattered, and the sounds of the battle bleed back into my awareness—a brutal contrast to the silence he’s left behind. Around me, others have stopped, their faces mirroring of my grief, eyes filled with shock and sorrow as they realise what has been lost. Someone reaches out, their hand brushing against his shoulder, and a fierce, protective anger flares within me.
“Don’t touch him!” I cry, my voice raw and fractured. “It’s too late to help him now… and you don’t deserve to touch him.” My words hang heavy in the air, weighted with bitterness and heartbreak, and I clutch Doran’s lifeless form tighter, unwilling to let him go, unwilling to let anyone else near him. I lean down, my voice a broken whisper. “Rest easy, my friend. I’ll keep my promise… I swear I will.” Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and brushing the hair off his freckled face, I lay him gently onto the ground. “I’ll be right back. You just rest here, Doran. Everything will be okay.”
I rise, the weight in my chest transforming into a searing, sharp pain that takes over my entire body.
Doran can rest.
But not me.
Fingertips tingling, I scour the battlefield and find my mark.
Before I take another step, Rylan appears, eyes wide with concern, his hands outstretched. “Eirabella. It’s done. Their weapons are gone. We destroyed them. They’re retreating. It’s over.”
I don’t respond. His words are meaningless, hollow echoes against the tidal wave of fury surging inside me. I push past him, my feet carrying me forward with singular purpose.
Mathis reaches for my arm, his expression stricken. “Eira, stop. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
Grellor joins him, stepping in front of me. “Think, lass! This isn’t you.”
But I shove them aside, my body moving as if possessed, drawn by the magnetic pull of my fury. I reach the river’s edge, and a tremor runs through the ground as the water begins to churn, responding to the raw force of my magic. The current twists and writhes, a living thing reflecting the storm inside me. It spirals up, higher and higher, the whirlpool dark and vicious, tearing at the sky with a roar that echoes my rage. The wind whips around me, pulling at my hair and clothes, stinging my skin with icy spray.
“You took my friend from me!” I scream, the sound tearing through the chaos, shaking the very air. The whirlpool grows, massive and deadly, its crest frothing with white-capped ferocity. The river strains against its banks, the water thrashing as if seeking vengeance on my behalf. It rises and rises, a column of raw, unstoppable power.
The ground trembles, and gasps sound behind me—warriors and rebels alike turning to witness the force that threatens to consume us all. My breath comes in ragged gasps, the pain in my chest melding with the magic that surges through me, searing and bright.
“You took a soul that was good and pure and light and love! And you will pay!” The whirlpool pulses with each word, growing, expanding, reaching for the battlefield, and beyond. The force of it makes my arms shake, my vision blur.
Fucking being limitless.
I am fury embodied.
I am walking revenge.
“Eirabella!” Rylan’s voice slices through the roar. His arms surround me, pulling me back, his breath hot against my ear. I struggle against him, the magic in me thrumming wildly, resisting his hold. “Stop, Eira. You need to stop,” he pleads, voice trembling with urgency. “That whirlpool—it’s going to reach the town. There are innocent civilians there. You’re going to hurt innocent people!”
I falter, a crack splintering through my rage. The whirlpool quivers, hesitating. The power still rages inside me, blinding and all-consuming, but Rylan’s words dig into me, sharp and relentless. He shifts, turning me in his arms, forcing me to meet his eyes, dark with worry and something deeper. “Look at me. Look at me, Eirabella .” He grabs my chin and forces my eyes to his. “Listen to me, please. He wouldn’t want this. Doran wouldn’t want this. You know he wouldn’t.”
The words strike like a blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. My hands, still raised, tremble as the truth seeps into my bones. Doran’s smile, the sound of his laughter, the warmth in his eyes when he believed in me—all of it clings to me, fragile and aching.
“Eirabella,” Rylan urges, his voice softer now, rough with emotion. “What did I teach you about strength and power? Strength is having the power, and wisdom is knowing when to use it. And this is not the time.” His hand tightens on mine, grounding me. “This... this is not what he would want for you. This isn’t who you are.”
The anger splinters, giving way to a crushing grief that floods through me, stealing the strength from my limbs. Rylan’s arms tighten around me, and with a shuddering breath, I let go. I let him take control, his power weaving into mine, guiding the thrashing water back to the river, calming its rage until it is once more a gentle, flowing current.
My knees buckle, and I collapse against him, my body shaking with sobs that tear through me, raw and relentless. He holds me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other around my waist, as the battlefield becomes a blur of faces and noise that I can no longer comprehend.
Rylan’s voice is a murmur in my ear, steady and grounding. “I’m here, Eira. I’ve got you. Let it go.”
And so I do. I let the rage consume me, burn me to ashes. I press my sobbing face into Rylan’s shoulder, the shape of him the only force holding my pieces together.