30 #3
“Theron must be in the physical faction.” Kora’s thoughts raced. “It’s the easiest to hide, and he was skilled in the desert. Someone in his family must’ve hidden their power.”
Raiden shook his head. “He’s in illusion.” He dragged his fingers under his dimmer-than-usual eyes. “Those black veins around his eyes are a sign of magical fatigue commonly known with the illusions.”
Kora was at a loss for words. Theron . . . an illusion. She was learning so much in the short time she’d been in Mistros City. The abundance of Devanian history and magical knowledge astounded her after a decade of it being feared and outlawed.
The illusion faction was also shrouded in mystery, much like the Mist. The scripture from Aerion had torn pages, as though someone had gone through it and removed certain passages.
All she knew so far was that illusions had a mental gift, they could manipulate what others could see, as well as their mind, some even as far as being able to see the truth.
Peeling back the layers of their victim’s skin to see everything they tried to hide.
It would explain what was happening in her mind, if Raiden believed Barron possessed a touch of illusion.
“Theron never displayed such a gift,” Kora mumbled, her body aching from sparring.
“Illusions are the hardest to detect,” Aerion added. “Their only giveaway are their eyes, and it takes great feats of magic to cause it. Like Leto. His eyes mimic his power.”
Was Aryn an illusion? His eyes glowed when his power was used.
But he’d just used speed to surprise her, meaning he had to be in physical?
Kora internally groaned for not reading Agatha’s tomes.
Perhaps they had more answers. They were hidden away in her chamber somewhere in Aldara, lost to Barron’s army.
Her pulse spiked as she pictured her previously safe space invaded by him, tainted by his touch.
“I have two magoires back . . . home. What if Barron finds them?”
“Where did you get two magoires?” Raiden stepped forward.
Kora stiffened, blinking quickly to stop the images of Agatha’s blood coating Raiden. He hadn’t shaved recently, and a dark beard coated his jaw, flecked with silver hairs.
“None of your business,” she retorted.
“It’s my business if Barron has two magoires.”
“He won’t find them. I hid them.” Her confidence faltered.
“Huntress . . . if he finds them, he could learn valuable secrets about Devania.”
Kora twitched, his voice dripping through her mind like honey, each glistening drop fading into the deep, dark, black pit.
“Stop,” she wavered. Had she hid them? Doubt crept in as she tried to mentally filter through the mess she’d left her room in at Cadell Manor. Would Barron go there? Would they storm the manor?
“The four magoires were split, each containing a select amount of history. Ours is the second, the first one is lost. The two you have must be the latest, leading up to the Devanian Conquest.” Raiden approached, becoming the singular point in the arena.
“Care to clue us in on your conversation?” Aerion drawled, his head tilting with amusement. A cold laugh echoed, mimicking Aerion’s humour and warping his features. Tiny black veins writhed across his body, choking his neck, staining his curls. No, not again!
“Get out of my head!” Kora yelled, her skin heating, a sinister laugh bubbling in her throat. Raiden froze as she repeated the yell, but towards the darkness leering within. Her voice warped, the tones turning husky and rough.
“Huntress, focus.”
“Stop it!” Kora rubbed her head, her scar flaring with cold pain and her heart thumped wildly, her water beast crying for release to dampen the enemy lurking within.
“Eyes on me.”
Kora’s stare whipped to Raiden, unaware he’d moved closer.
Her neck craned to meet his gaze, his chest so close it brushed hers with every breath.
The scent of fresh air dizzied her, of grounded, hardened steel, like weapons, strengthening her spine.
She followed his breathing, her chest mirroring his as the storm in her mind settled.
“It’s creepy when you do that,” Aryn muttered as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Aerion.
“It’s creepy when your eyes glow,” Raiden replied without breaking his stare from Kora.
“I think it’s cool,” Aerion said quietly, and Aryn’s lips quirked. “K, you said you were in control. What was that?”
“I’m fine,” she shakily exhaled, rubbing her sweaty palms on her legs. “I just . . . I’m worried. About Aldara.”
Aerion’s mouth thinned in disbelief as he stared at her. His doe eyes scanned her head to toe, as if he could reveal the illusions haunting her.
Raiden twitched, his arm reaching forward slightly and Kora stepped back, brushing her hair out of her eyes. It swished around her shoulders as she wiped the sweat from the back of her neck.
“It’s time for a break,” Aerion changed the subject. “K, come with me, I’ve got something to show you.”
As Kora followed Aerion across the arena, grateful for the distraction, a pair of diamond eyes tracked her the whole way, causing a fire to burn deep within her chest.