Chapter 3 #2
“How exactly does veyrithing work?” The notion was still new to me—an idea woven from fabricated stories that went against every rule of physics.
226688 sucked in a deep breath, and a slight whistle escaped his lips when he raised his brows.
“It’s a complex topic, but I’ll try to explain it the best I can.
” The fairy cleared his throat, as if he was preparing to speak for quite a while.
“Your head feels it first; it’s the first part of you that is affected by the veyrithing.
When we do it, our minds and bodies part, and at the end, they meet at the destination.
You’re split between two places, so your mind travels before your body,” he clarified.
“Think of your body as a vessel. By staying behind, it ensures that in case you get lost, you can always come back.” His eyes met mine, and a knowing smile curved his lips. “Interesting, isn’t it?”
“Can one get lost?”
The fairy bobbed his head, anticipating the question.
“It’s not possible on such short distances, but if you were to veyrith to your home, for example, you could definitely get lost in the darkness.
Your body would wait for your return if that happened.
It took our gods thousands of years to find a solution; we lost many noble warriors in their minds when they tried to veyrith.
They discovered that using the body as a vessel was the greatest safety measure. And it is.”
“If the process of veyrithing is just a walk through darkness, how does someone even know where to go?”
“Each place you visit has an aura. You just have to tap into it.”
My brows furrowed. “And those you haven’t visited?”
“Only our gods are powerful enough to do that,” he replied, then tipped his head.
“Is there a cost for the gods? When they veyrith?”
226688 shook his head, a smile playing on his lips as he likely deemed the question foolish.
“For lesser gods? Yes, they own little to no power. For gods, however? No, not necessarily. Veyrithing is similar to walking. Of course, exhaustion is a matter to consider, but the gods would require a significant amount of time before they would tire. I, however, have a low energy reserve that can only be restored by resting. There’s no shortcut for magic! ”
My lips pursed. There were so many questions I wanted to ask. What are lesser gods? Do gods have any limitations at all? What exactly can they do with their magic?
The curiosity I saw flickering in his eyes was the only reason I suppressed my own urge to inquire more.
“You answered my questions, so I’ll answer one for you.”
He seemed relieved as he opened his mouth to speak. “How did you get your eye?”
It impressed me he had lasted this long without asking. Most people—though I had rare encounters with them—would ask without even thinking twice.
My throat dried. “I was born with it.”
The fairy nodded, squinting at me.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. We should go inside.”
I studied him, and he avoided my gaze like a burning fire. It irritated me knowing that even if I asked, he would dodge my questions like a bullet.
Inside the arena, pairs of contestants stood scattered, each a good distance from the weapon-laden table, their chosen arms already in their grips.
I wouldn’t call this a proper training session, but a waste of energy that foretold a day of soreness to come.
One day of training could do little to no difference for what was about to come.
My attention lingered on the table. There, I thought. Another advantage. If I could sneak a small, unnoticeable item into my pocket—ideally without the fairy noticing—I could find something to ensure my safety.
“Would you mind giving me some space?” I uttered, averting my gaze to 226688 who was continuously flying beside me. “It’s hard to get used to always having someone around when you’re used to being alone.”
I only needed a few minutes.
He offered a silent nod, his eyes avoiding mine before he took flight.
My gaze fixated on a woman wrestling with the air, her sword a blur in the dim light that painted the arena.
Her mouth kept moving, but I was too far to hear.
I moved with a feather-light tread, and no one looked up when I halted for a fleeting second before the woman, nor did anyone deign to notice me as I crept a tiny bit nearer.
“What do you mean?” she whispered to no one.
I took in her long, raven hair. Her strands reached her shoulders, swaying from side to side as she dodged an imaginary attack.
She was breathtaking, and so were her eyes—the kind that made thieves wonder why they bothered to steal pieces of art when such beauty existed.
I wondered what stories they’d whisper if they could speak.
“I am fighting back!” she pressed through gritted teeth. “I know. I don’t need you to lecture me.”
With the number of things I’d learned to be real in the last couple of hours, I had no doubt that someone was indeed standing before her.
My legs carried me swiftly to the table. I needed something light. Easy to carry around. Easy to hide. Easy to defend myself with.
I let my eyes roam over the glinting steel of an axe, the worn handle of a hammer, the sharp edge of a sword, and the spiked head of a flail. I tsked in my mind. No, those wouldn’t work. But then, a small dagger, glinting in the light, beckoned me from beneath the hammer.
I grabbed it, felt its weight and tucked it between my stomach and pants, then pulled my shirt over it, the material brushing against my skin.
After glancing around, the tension in my shoulders eased. No one saw me.
The fighting noises suddenly stopped. I froze in my shoes, not daring to take another look behind.
Did they notice I stole the dagger?
No. No. They couldn’t have seen me.
“Where are you hurrying to?” A hand gripped my shoulder, turning me around.
The question could be interpreted as curiosity, but not with the tone of his voice. Not with the threat lingering under it. With a swallow, I found myself staring directly at the man with the cleanly shaved head.
My eyes dropped to where he touched me. I met his eyes with a scowl. He lifted a brow, taking his hand away.
“Are you not going to give us the pleasure of training with you? Or are you just too good to train?” His eyes seized me, the question clearly a joke. It’s as if he could smell I had never fought a day in my life.
A drop of sweat rolled down my spine. “No, but I do consider it pointless. It’s just a mockery of the gods.”
What they failed to grasp was that their unwavering obedience wasn’t a testament to their belief that training could change their faith, but the result of being compelled.
Not only that, but Zeus’s decision to grant only two days of training was a blatant insult.
It was akin to giving a novice skier with zero experience just two introductory lessons before throwing them into an international competition against seasoned professionals.
He tilted his head to the side, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. I dared to take a look at the others, each and one of them gawked at me in anticipation. They were waiting for a fight to stir?
“Oh, is that so? I’m not sure you understand where we are. Or is it hard to see with that eye of yours?” A few laughs. A victorious smile from the man.
I was not the kind to get involved in fights, and during the unintentional isolation at my house, I didn’t learn how to…act around this many people.
But I always had a snappy temper.
“I see perfectly fine.” There was a sharp edge in my voice. “What I don’t see is why you take so much interest in me when you have many people to train with. Maybe it’s my eye that entices you.”
“Oh,” someone mumbled.
His jaw ticked, his eyes passing over the small crowd. Then it hit me. He was testing everyone. He wanted to learn their weak points to see who’s got potential to beat him and who he shouldn’t worry about.
“I’m not a threat to you, so get out of my way.”
When he didn’t move aside, I stepped to the left. He followed. I stepped to the right. He followed once again.
“Train,” he pushed.
I stopped for a second. Was this only about testing me, or was there more to it?
The people drew in a breath, waiting like a creeping beast in the shadows. My hands balled into fists at my sides, a silent show of defiance as I met his gaze.
“Move.”
“Make me.”
I see. He wanted to piss me off enough to be the first to attack him so he could eventually get to what he wants.
“You are losing precious time to train,” I alerted him.
“Come on, Draven, she’s not worth the trouble,” the woman with blue-dyed hair beaconed him to leave me alone.
After a fleeting second of eye contact, he dismissed me with a shake of his head. “Whatever.”
With a sigh of relief, I attempted to side-step him, but his extended foot wedged my shoe between his leg and the floor, resulting in an ungraceful fall onto my face.
I cursed before I heard something snap at the impact.
As I cautiously raised my head from the ground, beads of blood painted the dull, gray stone.
The dust clung to them, as if it were a fresh breath of air.
My nose throbbed with a dull ache, and the sharp, metallic tang had already begun to coat my tongue.
“Are you okay?” I heard Theo’s voice before I heard his rushing steps. Two hands gripped my arms tightly, pulling me upright onto my feet. I didn’t flinch, I didn’t even move a muscle on my face.
I wouldn’t give Draven the satisfaction. Even if it hurt like a motherfucker. It would be quite a shock if it wasn’t broken.
Theo searched my face as droplets of blood rolled down my lips and chin, landing on my shirt or the ground. And maybe, just maybe, I was putting too much weight on him to hold me up.
My gaze met Draven’s as I gave a slight nod.
“It’s nothing. Just a scratch,” I reassured, then turned to Theo.
The scene before my eyes was somewhat hazy, yet I was able to conceal my struggle from the others.
Or at least I thought so. “Thank you,” I said, and he smiled, as if saying I should’ve come between you two sooner.
I shook my head. He didn’t owe me anything.
The sound of their taunting voices and laughter faded behind me as I walked away. I spotted 226688 just beyond the arena, and his eyes grew wide when he saw me.
“Oh my! Are you all right?”
My hands pressed firmly against my nose, trying to staunch the flow of blood. “Yes. Just get me to my room,” I pressed, then paused when I noticed his worried expression. “Please.”
Quicker than a lightning bolt, I landed on the bed, the room a dizzying blur.
It wasn’t that bad. I had a broken nose before; it happened when I tried to intervene in an argument between my parents. Or better saying, when I tried to stop my father from beating my mother to death. I was a collateral victim, he said.
My eyes clamped shut, a searing pain pulsing through me with every passing second.
“Do you have a napkin or something?” I asked, my hand cupped under my nose, trying to stop the blood from marring the floor and my clothes more than it already had.
“No.” He smiled. “But I have something better.” The fairy then clicked his fingers and a small tube appeared on his palm. “I might not be a healer, but I know a few tricks myself,” he declared proudly, then started applying the cream on my nose without asking.
I suppose I was in no position to fight him.
I hissed when he supported himself on the bridge of my nose to spread the balm.
“Sorry,” he added.
With every stroke of the cream, the bleeding on my nose decreased, the throbbing pain subsided, and then a sharp crack split the air as my nose snapped back, until…all sensation was gone.
“There.” He smiled, flying to the nightstand. “The wound is still visible, but it’s healed.”
I frowned. “If it’s so powerful to heal a broken nose, it’s not powerful enough to heal the swelling and bruising as well?”
“They can’t know I helped you, Charisma. This helps to raise no suspicion.”
“Why?” I peered at him from under my lashes.
“It’s against the rules, duh. But I’m new and smart enough not to be caught.” He beamed, and surprisingly, I returned the smile.