30 #2
Her heart hammered, and she was sure she would collapse soon from the way her legs wobbled, sickeningly similar to how she felt from rationing at sea. Lungs screaming for a break, she entered another series of attacks with Aryn, who had hardly broken a sweat.
“Duck!”
Kora released a small growl as Raiden urged her from the edge of the ring. His voice had been relentless in her mind, constantly pushing her as Aryn teased her around the ring. Even now, a small smile played with his lips as he twirled a dagger.
“Come on, Captain, I know you’ve got more in you.”
“Don’t use it.”
Kora rolled her shoulders. Raiden had put her on strict magic rest for two weeks, and she was to focus on training, eating, and sleeping.
Only one of those things had been going well.
Sleep evaded her most nights, nightmares taunting her from the shadows.
Agatha had not graced her dreams again since that encounter.
She was sure Kordelia’s laugh visited her whenever she closed her eyes for slumber, closely followed by Barron’s claws of magic across her mind.
Food was the only good thing going for Kora right now.
Endless sweet and savoury dishes, ranging from simple, light pancakes, to exotic spiced fish and succulent vegetables.
She’d filled out her clothes in the past week alone, familiar muscle she’d spent a decade working hard for returning, toning her body into something she recognised.
Kora wheezed, unable to form words as Aryn went for her again, his smile disappearing as Kora barely managed to block his attack, her arms trembling violently.
The daggers she held were simple, the sleek metal light yet unbalanced in her hands.
Pommels carved from moonstone kept slipping in her sweaty palms.
“Maybe that’s enough for today.” Raiden started forward, unfurling from his post by the windows.
“No!” Kora barked, as she pushed against Aryn’s weight. “I need . . .” she darted around Aryn, her leg sweeping to catch his, “to be stronger! I’m going to get him this time!”
Aryn jumped, and Kora flailed as her leg met air. Before she knew what was happening, Aryn became a blur, his speed increasing as he appeared behind her within a blink, holding a dagger to her throat.
“You’re fighting enemies with powers now, Kora. Mages with strength, or speed. Some may be from the illusion faction, and can bend your reality. A battle you already have from within. You need more than strength,” Aryn spoke harshly as Aerion approached from the weaponry wall.
“Oh, and which faction do you fall under?” Kora pried his arm away from her neck.
Aerion had discovered an old tome from his collection about the history of Devanian magic a few nights ago, and her throat had closed as she’d instantly recognised it.
The same golden, embossed letters, the same iron-covered corners.
Except this leather-bound tome was an iridescent grey compared to the blue and green ones from beneath Agatha’s floorboards in the Silvermaid’s Emporium.
As per her previous teachings, the mage system had indeed been split into five factions, but from the little Devanian language Kora knew, she’d only grasped a light understanding from Aerion’s book.
Each one called a magoire, and only four existed in this world.
How Agatha had two was beyond Kora’s comprehension, and something she wished she could ask her wise old friend.
“It’s best if no one knows,” Aryn replied as Raiden stepped into the ring, his stony face setting Kora on edge.
“Are factions supposed to be secret?”
From what she’d gathered, the physical faction was pretty straight forward.
Heightened strength and speed, rivalling that of the gods.
It explained the Flint twins, and how they’d overpowered her crew.
There were some indications towards advanced agility, and potential manipulation of weapons, but the scripture had become too complicated for her to comprehend.
Even Aerion’s understanding of the language didn’t stretch far enough to help.
“No, it’s a mage’s choice,” Raiden answered.
“There’d once been a dispute between factions, back when the gods still ruled the lands.
Early days of Devania. Mages had once lived peacefully, but rulers at that time wanted to seek out whose power had potential, who could be overthrown, who could best them in a war.
Borders were drawn, and the elementals had to work together to achieve unity.
It’s better to see all magic as equal, rather than who fits in which box.
Those borders are now the noble’s territories. ”
Shock rippled through Kora. These islands were infused with such history, and Barron and the empire had simply built on top of it, erasing the past as best they could. It felt wholly familiar.
“But elementals are the most powerful?” Kora supplied.
“They used to be.” Raiden’s gaze darkened, sliding to Aryn briefly. “Until Barron showed up.”
Aerion appeared next to Aryn. “Personally, I think the divine faction is the most powerful. Having the ability to manipulate life and death tops creating some wind. Anyone can do that if they eat enough cabbage.”
Aryn’s nose wrinkled. “The scriptures on the divine are lost, no one knows the full extent of their abilities. No one has met a divine since the early years of the Devanian Conquest. The Stagharts targeted them first.”
Kora’s mouth soured. Such cruel injustice. Such cold hearts that reigned. But not all of them were cold . . . there was at least one decent royal.