Chapter 50
Ellowyn
The dozen horses whickered softly, their breath puffing in little white clouds around their noses and mouths as their hooves pawed against melting snow.
I pulled the thick cloak tighter around me in a desperate bid to ward off the chill of the morning.
The weather was finally starting to turn; the days were warming as the spring sun melted the icy evidence of the frigid winter, but the mornings were still cold and damp.
The only lucky part of my depression was that I barely felt the quick descent into winter and its lingering cold. Now, though, I felt it all and desperately prayed for a warm spring and quick summer.
“Cold, My Queen?” Alois asked lowly in my ear.
I hummed slightly, a shiver running up my spine at Alois’ casual use of “queen.” He’d told me yesterday of his plans to unify Elyria under himself as king—it was a desperate man’s last bid to bring together a force that could stand against the gods and the rebellion.
The logistics of it made sense, I supposed, but the thought of becoming queen just set my teeth on edge.
I turned my attention from my husband to the beasts in front of me. While I’d ridden for sport with Peytor and Finian around the property of our manor home outside of Katiska, I’d never sat atop a horse for as long as the journey ahead of us.
Days ago, Alois received a report that Cellia, a midsize village in the Borderlands, was overrun by rebel activity.
While much of the population was fleeing north, away from the rebels’ path—reports saw their growing band trudging through Reeria toward its capital, Hillford, while the refugees made their way to Vespera—Alois felt the need to see the destruction with his own eyes.
Apparently, he didn’t trust the word of his illustrious spy network.
Fitting.
It was clear that my husband had deep-seated trust issues, even with his ability to discern truths from lies.
It was also clear that this was more than just a mission to confirm information—there were a dozen cadets sitting astride horses, waiting for the command to move.
They were dressed in the Mage blacks that characterized the Academy soldiers, and even I could tell they were all a bit green; their movements were jerky, laughs loud.
An air of undue confidence filled the space as newly-Awakened Mages and Vessels postured for each other.
I’d seen death and destruction in Hestin—the bits I could remember anyway—and quickly discerned that this was also a mission to show the new recruits what real battle looked like, what it smelled like.
I’ve already killed more men than most, if not all of them, my mind supplied unhelpfully.
I physically shook the thought from my brain and my eyes fell on Lex and his Vessels.
There was tension between the three of them that wasn’t as prevalent a few months ago, and the strain was evident on all of their faces.
While Lex’s Pleasure Vessel rode even with him, his Pain Vessel rode slightly behind, as if trying to separate herself from her Mage.
Odd.
A loud laugh from one of the recruits jolted me from my thoughts and I thought I saw Lex roll his eyes before he barked a swift “mount up!”
My hands ceased stroking my horse’s nose, much to her displeasure, before gripping the saddle horn in one hand and the reins in the other. I swung my leg over the saddle, already thankful for the padded riding pants I’d found laid out on my bed earlier this morning.
With quick words, Lex paired each of the recruits up into two’s—their “buddy” for the ride to and from Cellia. Surprisingly, Lex’s Pain Vessel paired herself with Alois, leaving me fidgeting and alone.
“Looks like you’re with me,” a rough feminine voice sounded from my right, and I turned slightly to regard the woman pulling her horse even with mine.
She was short, much shorter than my six-foot height, and built like a bulldog.
Even through her thick riding pants and winter cloak, it was clear the woman was all muscle.
“Looks like it,” I said as we pulled our horses into line.
“Leal,” the woman said as she leaned across her saddle, stretching her palm in my direction.
I smiled slightly before briefly clasping her hand with my own.
“Ellowyn,” I managed. It had been a while since I’d had to introduce myself, and I nearly forgot all of the lessons my mother instilled in me.
How disappointed she’d be in me now—sitting astride a horse in pants and boots, shaking hands with the soldiers.
Though, on the simplest level, her expectations for me helped put me in this current predicament, so I felt less guilty over practically throwing her feminine expectations away.
“Oh, I know who you are,” she said with a shrug as we clicked at our horses to follow the pair in front. “I just figured it was common courtesy to ask your name before launching into everything I know about you.”
A surprised laugh burst from my chest at her statement.
“I can be rather blunt,” she admitted, a slight red tinge coating the tops of her cheeks. “But I’d always needed to be, growing up with four brothers in the inner-city. Plus, when you’re built like this, no one expects you to be feminine anyway. It’s easier just to play into the stereotype.”
I hummed softly. “Well, I appreciate your candor. I’ve dealt with too many masquerades and hidden intentions during my short life. I’ve always appreciated it when people tell it to me plain.”
“Are you really a Creation and Destruction Mage?” she asked as we clipped our way through Vespera; the streets were relatively empty this time in the morning, citizens just beginning to leave home to open shops and carts—or stumbling home from whatever drunken revelry the night previous.
“Yes,” I said simply.
“And . . . you don’t need a Vessel? Or crystals?” Leal asked hesitantly, her eyes trained firmly on the horse in front of her.
“No, I can feel a well inside,” I said, surprised that others knew of my unique attribute. It was something the acolyte at my Awakening wanted me to keep secret, though after my little spectacle in Hestin, it was a fool’s hope to think it would stay hidden for long.
“What are you?” I asked and winced at the insensitive delivery.
“An Air Mage,” Leal said, her lips quirked in a slight smile. “Not very powerful, but I can draw enough to sustain an Air Shield for a while.”
Leal might have thought that just being able to conjure an Air Shield meant she wasn’t very powerful, but I’d seen firsthand how “just an Air Shield” could make the difference between life or death.
We rode in silence after that as we passed through the deep walls of Vespera.
I gasped as I saw, for the first time in months, land outside of the city—outside of my own bedroom, really.
It was vast and undulating, white snow periodically dotting the landscape that glinted in the early rising sun. Much of the earth was brown and muddy, but the freedom in the hills and valleys called to my soul, and I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes.
I’d been locked away for months—a prisoner in my own thoughts, chained by duty and obligation, shackled to a man I hated, and encased in solid stone walls. To see such vast openness in the landscape before me stirred renewed vigor and hope deep within.
While the pace of our ride to Myrefall was quick, the atmosphere was relaxed, carefree even. Recruits teased each other and laughed loudly. The dual lines of horses were scraggly and uneven as Mages and Vessels hung back in ranks to talk with their friends.
It seemed everyone felt the way I did about leaving the enclosure that was Vespera.
Everyone except for Lex, his Vessels, and my husband.
They rode silently, lines tight and postures stiff. Even without being able to see their faces, I knew disapproval and frustration was etched into each of their expressions.
Yet they did nothing to stop the frivolity that ensued during the entire day’s ride. It was almost as if they were letting the recruits have this time of levity, knowing what was to come.
The ominous thought sent a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of the midafternoon sun.
My dark thoughts were quickly eclipsed the longer we traveled. Leal and I rode directly ahead of a Fire Mage and an Earth Mage from Deucena, and they filled our ride with outlandish stories and a plethora of inappropriate jokes.
The men were clearly twins, though were not identical.
Both men had copper-red hair, though Tine had more red to his while Talamh was more of a russet brown.
They both had startling blue eyes and strong facial features, but that was where the similarities ended.
Tine was tall and slightly gangly-looking, though it was clear he was still strong with constantly laughing eyes.
Talamh, however, was shorter and stockier, his muscles bulky and shoulders broad, and a near-constant furrow in his brow.
Tine was in the middle of a story about swindling a gold medallion from a drunk on the streets of Alvor. I pivoted in my saddle, the motion stretching my back and rubbing my chafed thighs against the leather, to regard Tine with a quizzical look.
“You traded your hat?”
He smiled in return, humor and mischief carved into his expression. “It was a good hat.”
His twin rolled his eyes with a huff.
“What? It was! It slightly resembled an erect penis. One of my more favorite creations if I do say so myself,” Tine said, pride lacing every word.
I let out a bark of surprised laughter and saw my husband’s head turn subtly in my direction at the sound with an unnamable expression.
“An . . . erect penis?” I sputtered.
“Yep. It was glorious.”
“It was heinous and offensive.”
“You know, if you lightened up a bit, I bet you could get laid as much as I do. There are plenty of beautiful women here with us.” Talamh waggled his copper eyebrows at Leal and I as he argued with his brother.
“I get laid plenty.”
Leal and I exchanged a wide-eyed glance before rotating in our saddles, leaving the twins to their argument.