CHAPTER 39 #4
Warmth spread through Kara’s chest. She glanced at Sebastian, and found him already watching her. The way he looked at her made her stomach flutter madly.
“You’re staring,” she said.
“Can you blame me?” he asked quietly.
They spent the rest of the afternoon under Veyra’s watchful gaze. What began in awe quickly turned into something else – bewilderment, frustration, and definitely laughter.
Sebastian had no trouble summoning massive shields so thick they could stop a volley of arrows.
But delicate magic? Not his strength. When Veyra asked him to scale them down – protect one person – he scowled and swore as the barrier flared out too wide, with a burst of force that knocked Kara flat on her back.
She lay there, winded, staring up at the sky.
“Kara! Are you hurt?” he asked, crouching beside her.
She sat up, hair wild, rubbing her shoulder, and she couldn’t help it – started laughing.
“I’m fine,” she managed between giggles.
Sebastian offered his hand with the surliest expression she’d ever seen.
Emotion magic was hardest for him. Sebastian tried, expression focused, sweat beading on his brow as his hands flared violet and gold, reaching for fear the way Veyra instructed – to project it outward.
But the magic snapped inward instead. His face turned panicked.
Crimson erupted from him in a sudden burst; a defence mechanism.
Yellow came next, and the ground shuddered violently.
Roots erupted at his feet, coiling wild and uncontrolled before Kara stumbled back out of their reach.
“Control,” Veyra said. “It answers your will, not your panic.”
Whilst he brooded, Veyra guided Kara to a training post across the circle. “Try the earth. Bind the roots, like chains.”
Kara reached for the quiet hum of the earth, imagining the tree roots lashing out, strong enough to bind. The effort made her head pound. Finally, the ground trembled, but instead of wooden ropes, delicate green shoots burst between her fingers, flowering into white blossoms.
She groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “That was supposed to be intimidating.”
Sebastian stared at the little carpet of flowers, and smirked. “Terrifying, Healer. Truly. I’ve never been so afraid of petals.”
“Shut up,” she muttered, her face hot as she swept the petals away with a brush of her hand.
“You both wrestle with what is not natural to you. That is expected,” Veyra said, not unkindly. “Practise. You will overcome it.”
But mind magic... that was the worst of all. It came too easily to Kara – she’d fallen deep into Sebastian’s thoughts by accident. A hidden memory hit her without warning – a battlefield, bloodied snow, a friend taking his last breath in Sebastian’s arms as blood bubbled at his lips.
“Tell–tell Freya... tell her I–”
The light in his eyes went out.
Kara yanked back with a gasp, shaken.
Sebastian’s face had gone white but he only grunted, and said darkly, “You don’t want to look there, Kara.”
She nodded, throat tight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”
“I know.” He didn’t sound angry, more guarded. “Stay away from the Ice Lands. There are things there I don’t want you to see.”
He lives with those memories. Every day.
Kara nodded as their bond trembled, and she felt him force the memory down, shaking with the vulnerability he hated, the exposure he couldn’t avoid. Accident or not, this wasn’t the first time she’d violated his mind.
She would have to be careful. Much more careful.
But they continued. Pushed through, together.
Hours passed. They spent the whole day with Veyra patient, them determined.
And by the time night had fallen, they were both drenched with sweat, bruised, and utterly exhausted.
When they collapsed side by side on the stones of the training circle, Kara was smiling.
They were clumsy, but powerful, and throughout the day, they’d improved, little by little.
At least, Sebastian’s most recent shield hadn’t knocked her over, and the last flowers she’d conjured had thorns rather than petals.
Veyra stood at the edge of the circle, watching them with approval.
Then the hawk arrived.
The ruby shield shimmered once to admit it.
It landed straight in front of Sebastian, feathers ruffled, a small message tied to its leg.
They shared a look of surprise before Sebastian removed it with a practised hand, tearing it open with his soldier’s efficiency.
Kara watched the change in his face as he took in the words.
All the warmth, the laughter of their training, bled out of him.
“What is it?” she asked.
He didn’t answer right away. The golden bond pulsed with his unease, before he passed her the letter. It bore his father’s seal. She read it quickly, her heart beating faster with each word:
Sebastian,
Draknor are coming. We captured a scout. He confirmed it under Caldris interrogation. Three weeks. Perhaps four.
The Council has voted to pardon you. They believe you. You and Kara are to return at once.
I pray you have been able to unite the Arcanth.
We need you both.
Your father