Chapter Seventeen
THE GENERAL
The unmistakable remnants of death magic lingered on the bark. I peered closer. The residue gave the impression of obsidian granules, as if someone took the black stone and ground it in a mortar and pestle.
I cracked my neck.
I continued searching for any other signs of the scaled demons—drekis. Our turned spies alerted us to most of their missions, particularly those involving movement in our realm. I didn’t expect to find any lurking about today, but evidence of char left me on alert.
The reptiles reeked of death magic—broken magic that leaches life. The kind of magic birthed from their dark king and bestowed to his dreki—his convoluted attempt at creating his version of Primes. The Good King. I scoffed to myself, and a puff of shadow expelled from my knuckles.
We were amassing a plan that would take him out, but I hadn’t figured out a way to make it to the Nereids. I sighed. Deep down, I really felt the only way to rid the world of King Nolan was to find a cure, but the Nereids were the next logical step. Another problem for another day.
There would be an end to death magic, according to the oracles, but I had no way of knowing if it would be in my lifetime. Regardless, it didn’t stop me from planning and plotting, doing everything in my power to preserve Aphellion, and the greater realms.
I may not currently be powerful enough to destroy death magic completely, but I knew well how to disrupt plans and, at the very least, be a pain in Nolan’s ass. I chuckled at the thought. If that were to be my legacy, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.
I resumed scanning my surroundings, my senses heightened, as I sent my magic out in waves to explore and assess.
My horse grunted, the ground shaking much more aggressively than normal for having a land wielder nearby. A faint scream sliced through the trees. Everything sharpened. I bolted toward the source of the sound.
A gentle ripple tugged against my shadows. Internally, I heard the distress call. Xuri. Had she encountered a dreki? My blood simmered in my veins, a slumbering viper awakening, poised to unleash.
I raced through the dimly lit woods on my horse, narrowly avoiding the whip of low hanging branches. Xuri’s call grew louder as I zeroed in on her location.
Beyond the trees, I glimpsed their group in a deceivingly peaceful meadow.
Wildflowers swayed indolently in the breeze, even as the land yielded destruction.
Dust suspended in a silently hovering cloud around them.
Broken earth, jutting rocks, and a chasm that surrounded a small plot of dismembered land, left the field in disarray.
Char appeared to float on the swirling breeze, yet no threat presented itself.
I swiftly dismounted, then ran toward Xuri. She held a petite woman covered in blood. Her chest rose and fell in shallow pants. The ground around them darkened as if a bucket of water had been poured out.
I regarded the woman, who was impossibly too familiar, her white hair almost lavender near the roots in the shade of the meadow. Her limp body retained an aura of strength despite her obviously unconscious state.
I stalled at the realization that Xuri held Ruin.
My memory of our interactions painted her in bold colors.
Seeing her like this, weakened and vulnerable, unnerved me.
Her wavy hair fanned out along the wadded-up cloak her head rested upon, soaking up rivulets of blood.
Her delicate face contorted in pain, the column of her neck slick with crimson.
My shadows swirled around me in restless agitation. They waited to defend or destroy, calculating, gathering minute details to make sense of the scene before me.
My gaze shifted to Xuri. Urgency lashed from her sharp caramel gaze as she held the woman in her lap.
Xuri’s students stood by, awaiting direction from either myself or their revered teacher. Ruin bled copiously, the metallic smell filling my nostrils. As I absorbed the scene, I sensed the remnants of dark magic seeping out of her. Char flowed alongside her lifeblood.
My stomach clenched, unsettled. I had never seen that before. I furrowed my brow as I peered at Xuri. She shook her head as if to answer my unspoken question. She didn’t know what was happening either. She spoke softly into my mind as only a Prime Oracle could, “Death Magic.” Alarm flared.
Sonora squatted nearby. She embraced a stricken Korin.
“Her name is Rue,” she offered. “Korin had invited her to join us this morning. She fended off two dreki attempting to attack us.” Her voice faltered with her final report.
“They seemed intent on getting to Korin. Rue used water magic to protect us.” Her countenance hardened as she relayed the chain of events.
She darkened further recounting the dreki’s interest in Korin. My metal rings flared.
“You must take her to the healer immediately. She will die soon if we don’t.” Xuri extended her arms, barely lifting Rue’s torso.
I hesitated. She had been hunting Korin and lured the dreki to our realm. Saving her seemed like the clearest form of stupidity. But Ruin had also protected Korin. I couldn’t make sense of it.
Korin trembled, her voice squeaking through her shock. “We have to help her.”
My lips pursed in a thin line. I better not regret this. I extended my arms toward Rue.
Her lips parted in a feeble groan, and I swiftly channeled my magic to staunch the flow of blood around her face.
My shadows skimmed across her waxen skin to find any other wounds.
The simple ministrations wouldn’t be enough if she was to survive.
I could clot some of it, but it was like her body was trying to forcefully expel the death magic’s toxin, hindering my efforts.
With Xuri’s help, we lifted her onto my horse. After settling her in my lap, we sped through the city of Lyrae toward the rebellion’s warded camp. I gently clutched Rue’s limp and fading body, hoping she would survive this nightmare. Not only for her sake, but I had many questions.
I stared at her—intrigue and distrust flowing in equal measure.
This was the second time I carried her unconscious, her fragility oddly moving. “I’ve got you, Ruin,” I spoke into her hair. She remained unresponsive.
We bolted through the city, using back alleys and lesser-known roads to avoid a potential scene. My imposing gelding commanded attention from the few passersby we encountered. Pedestrians jumped out of our way.
Aphellion, the rebel camp, was less a collection of tents and more a city in itself.
It was organized into sections for learning, living, healing, and training.
Even Queen Avery herself was not fully aware of our location.
We were nestled outside of the city proper.
Our stronghold thickly veiled by wards maintained by Finn, which allowed us to stretch from the feet of the Topaz Castle to the base of the mountains in the west. Most didn’t know it even existed.
To the average Yaritian, all that could be seen was more forest, overgrown with thorns and poisonous plants. A place to avoid. I rode straight for it, bursting through the ward to the other side.
A soldier on duty startled, then relaxed upon identification of their general. “Send Sieren.” Without waiting for a response, I headed to the healing quarters, trusting the soldier would make haste to find the Prime Healer.
My heart raced as I considered the consequences of this woman dying.
We valued all life, but beyond that, she might know something about the drekis, especially since she successfully fought them off.
I briefly assessed her. Her skin had lost color rapidly as blood managed to leak out in thick globs, primarily from one of her ears.
Small trickles of blood also trailed from her nose and mouth. I could find no other wounds.
“General!” Sieren hollered at me, racing in my direction. I halted my horse and several other healers came over to help us dismount. I carried Rue to a private space where her wounds could be dealt with.
I relayed what I knew to Sieren. With the other healers occupied, I whispered, “Xuri sensed death magic on her. These may not be straightforward wounds.” Sieren nodded tersely and resumed her care, facilitating and directing those under her.
I stood back granting ample space to hopefully perform a miracle. Towels rapidly soaked up Rue’s unceasing streams of blood. I peered closer, studying her features. A deep ripple of familiarity lapped at the corners of my memory. The feeling unnerved me.
Sieren closed her eyes, going inward, her hands drifting slowly down Rue’s body, hovering inches above her silent form.
Searching for the source of the blood loss, her investigation came up empty.
“A deep pulse strains around her neck area, but I find nothing physically visible. The ongoing blood loss will drain her if we don’t figure this out quickly.
” She turned, searching, then grabbed a male healer, her eyes alight with purpose. “Logan, trace her for death magic.”
He nodded, approaching Rue’s side. The air shimmered beneath his fingers, the whir of his affinity wrapped around her chest and swept up her neck.
The air coalesced into waves of moonlight right below her ear, the one that would not cease oozing blood.
“A Surveille parasite, just here.” He condensed his shimmering magic over the offensive area.
“We have to get it out. It might harm her, but she’ll die if we do nothing. ”
“I’ll get an elixist. When I get back, I will cast the removal spell.” Sieren scrambled out of the room, her departure leaving a wake of quiet tension.
I felt antsy in the weighted silence. Stepping forward, I addressed Logan, “What can I do to help?”
“Can you redirect the blood flow from this area? It will minimize the tissue destruction and create more space for us to remove the Surveille,” the healer responded.
While I primarily wielded my metal magic in combat, I could also use it to maneuver the iron found in blood, to manipulate it for brief periods. It required gentle precision, or I risked bursting veins. Luckily, years of practice had honed my craft. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Sieren returned, an elixist in tow. We positioned ourselves, each understanding our roles. She extended her arms. “Let’s get this parasite.”
Everyone stilled. The air itself held its breath.
Sieren began chanting, and the temperature dropped as her magic absorbed into Rue’s skin.
I called the iron in her blood away from the parasite, focusing on both speed and keeping the pressure as low as possible so as not to strain her circulatory system.
The sensation of her blood with my magic was both excruciating and enchanting.
The death magic burned against me. But whatever flowed in her veins gripped me—a living current that latched on to my power.
The flavor of cherries washed across my tongue, catching me off guard.
I doubled down on my task, refusing to lose focus.
The Surveille twitched and jerked, writhing against the thin barrier of Rue’s skin. It strained against its confines, clearly pissed at being yanked out of its host, no matter how subtly. Its legs thrashed like a deranged spider.
Sieren’s voice grew firmer, louder. The parasite broke through the skin in a sharp burst. The waiting elixist blew a powder over it.
The Surveille violently resisted, jerking erratically, then stilled.
Tongs grabbed it, transferring it to a waiting jar, the rim sealed with glowing magic.
The elixist gripped the jar with wonder, then quietly exited the room.
I released my hold on her blood, confusion settling in.
I rubbed my temples, unsure if keeping her in Aphellion was wise.
The healers moved in to mend her damaged neck.
They placed their hands around her, knitting her tissues back together.
Blood finally stopped dripping from her mouth and ears.
Pinkened towels littered the floor in a chilling reminder of how close death hovered.
Rue’s breathing receded into something soft and shallow, the line between her brows relaxing.
As I studied the soft lines of her face, I hoped we weren’t too late.