“You need to stop. At this rate you won’t have enough strength to get back.”
It was Aixel who broke the silence. I had been twisting and molding the magic in my hand for what was possibly hours now. Of course, the pain was unlike anything I had experienced before, but I need to practice. I needed to control this newfound trick. I needed to master it if I wanted to have any chance of protecting myself.
But this strange new talent came with a price. With each mental kneed of rippling invisible magic waves in my arm, came the same, now familiar bone-splintering pain. My eyelids grew heavier and the hair on my neck began to stick to slowly pooling cold sweat. Each little session was torture, exhilarating torture, horrid and strange but nonetheless of my own making. As with each bitter cold cactus bite of pain, I was left just a bit closer to control.
Aixel seemed curious at first, if not confused when I continued my void magic practice after the first nasty lesson, but his demeanor slowly changed to that of boredom. So, I was surprised when he interrupted me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had tried to teach anyone void magics before.
We were waiting on a crane from Milea to tell us it was safe to come back, but as the night grew longer and the evening insect’s song softened, I couldn’t help but grow worried. I sighed and lowered my pathetic blackened hand.
Aixel did not seem worried. His arms were crossed as he stared towards the vast starry sky, mirrored by his own blackened eyes, view splintered by the thickly weaved tree cover above. With the bonfire light beginning to turn from bright orange to charcoal and red, I couldn’t help but think of a familiar night lit by firelight that seemed so long ago.
I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Was he looking for me? Should I be looking for him?
There was suddenly an annoyed sigh across the bonfire.
I looked down from the stars to see the void mage’s beetle black eyes staring into mine.
“You look like you’re about to cry again,” he shook his head, “You really should have stayed back.”
“I’m fine,” I responded, perhaps in a cooler tone than I intended.
There was that same uncomfortable silence again.
“Why are you even doing this? Playing knight? You could be back in the underground asleep right now,” said Aixel.
“I suppose you would like that. Sorry for the dead weight,” I grumbled.
More silence.
“What are you trying to prove? You expect Solia to come down and give you a personal pat on the back? It’s pointless,” he muttered under his breath.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ve met her, you know.”
“Right, sure. Me too,” said Aixel, dry voice tinged with sarcasm. “Is that what it is? You’re some sort of zealot?”
“I’m serious. Herculea was going to kill me, dagger right at my chest, and I called for her judgment,” I said with an unintentional smile.
“Ah, so you’re insane. Usually it’s the void mage who’re a bit touched in the head. Perhaps all that practice with your hand messed you up,” he said as he stood, stretching his arms over his head.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I speak the truth.”
“Right, you’re special enough to be brought to Herculea herself. Was she secretly horrid under her veil, like all the rumors?” he mocked.
I pictured Herculea’s haunting fogged eyes in a flash of my mind’s eye.
“She was… unsettling. But beautiful.”
“Right, of course. And what did little you do to earn her personal fury?”
“Between Lumo and the Dragonrider, I suppose quite a few things.”
I knew he was mocking me, but I couldn’t help myself. Yet I knew he already thought I was a joke, so why bother lying?
He froze, then gave a few slow blinks.
He suddenly then gave an odd little laugh, “The pouty prince? Of course… This is starting to make sense now. I suppose you’re his new toy then.”
Pouty Prince?
“Suppose he must have gotten bored after Ciro was done with his games. Guess your fancy armor makes sense now,” he laughed.
“Pouty Prince?”
“‘Oh, woe is me - I have to spend the rest of my life being doted on by one of the four most powerful beings in Lucerna. I never have to worry about food nor shelter nor death,’” he mocked before muttering, “Spare me.”
My head turned to the side, more baffled than offended.
“You really think it’s that simple?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“You know what? I honestly don’t care,” he brushed off his hands on his trousers, “Stay here. I’m going to check on Doris.”
I blinked.
Before I could say another word, he was gone. His body split in familiar shards, and the tiny gnats plumed into a cloud, gone out of view in an instant, weaving through the dark of the wooded swamp.
“... Will do,” I breathed.
I did not expect that. I suppose it made some sense why he would feel that way about someone like Lumo. All Aixel had seemed to know since birth was pain and survival. Nothing came easy in The Barrens, especially to a void mage. Did I expect him to be impressed? Perhaps, though I was not sure why I wanted Aixel’s approval in the first place.
And so I sat, alone again in the middle of a swamp, in a place left unmarked on any map.
It was an odd combination of humid and cold, with the heavy tree cover blocking any sort of breeze from the sea. Other than the steady song of insects, only an occasional frog would join the chorus in the cool night air. But, despite my apparent solitude, I did not feel afraid.
I glanced down at my blackened hand, struggling to move the limp fingers.
Void magic.
Unbelievable.
Oh if Limenta could see me now.
The Mira who sat before her bedroom window, performing the candle ritual with tears in her eyes felt like a different person. If Limenta tried to slap me now, I believe I would aim this falchion between her eyes. Maybe not catastrophic damage, but enough to make sure she never laid a finger on me again.
I smiled, taking a slow breath of the night air and leaning back with a stretch.
“Ah, pretty thing you are. All alone, are we?”
The sudden voice jolted me forward in surprise, and I scanned the dark looking for the source. It sounded like it was right behind my ear, whispering low and soft. I grasped my weapon and raised it at the ready, spinning cautiously in my search and keeping low to the ground.
“Show yourself,” I spoke in as steady of a tone as I could manage.
Another void mage? A Selphene knight?
“Now, now, no need for that,” said the man’s voice again, silken and low.
Then, from the clearing came a sight I didn’t expect.
In robes whiter than moonlight, adorned in silver and woven pearl walked a tall man into the grimy swamp clearing. His hands were raised in calm surrender, and even in the darkness, his sharp features shone with odd clarity. He was beautiful in an almost uncanny way, and his calm expression was almost enough for me to lower my guard.
“Mira, is it? So lovely to meet you. Though I can’t say I’m too fond of this dreary setting. Never been too fond of swamps. All of the prickly creatures and odd smells. Far too many legs for my liking…”
I watched, still cautious as the tall man picked at the fallen foliage on his pristine robe. He made a flowing, airy step forward towards me, but I held my ground. I searched my memories for any reference as to the stranger’s identity. Was he fae? Vampire? Some other unknown beast of the Barrens?
“Who are you?”
Long white hair framed a tall nose and dark brows, and as the moonlight finally found its way through the branches above to his face, I finally saw his eyes.
I swallowed.
Staring back at me was the familiar foggy glow of a blood mage.
He crossed his arms and tilted his head, presumably offended by my question with an exaggerated frown upon his thin lips. Tiny pearled chains chimed on the delicately adorned silver crown as he made another smooth step forward.
“I didn’t think I’d find you so fast, but here we are,” the stranger smiled, revealing pearly teeth rivaling that of the adornments on his intricate crown.
My heartbeat began to slow, and I felt a strange and sudden urge to lower my weapon.
Yet, if this is who I thought it was, shouldn’t I be afraid?
“Myrot?” I breathed, “I don’t understand…”
There, in pristine silver and white armored robes was one of the four great guardians.
“Ah, so you do know me,” he coaxed warmly, “Now could you please put down your weapon? I’m starting to get offended, dear.”
“Not until you tell me why you’re here,” I spoke, surprised at my own bravery.
He smiled again, eyes brightening.
“I’m not going to kill you, no. You’re far too valuable for something so macabre. So let’s settle down, shall we?”
He slinked over to a nearby log, wiped off the moss-ridden top in obvious disgust, then sat, long legs crossed dramatically. He then gestured to a nearby stump, inviting me to sit.
I did not want to sit.
“So, if not my death, what is it then? To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Well, I had to see what all this fuss was about,” he smiled, before resting his sharp shin in his palm, elbows on knees, leaning forward playfully. “Herculea has set quite the price on your pretty little head, and poor little Lumo…” he trailed off, with a shake of his head.
“Poor Lumo?” I let the excitement at his name spill out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Myrot seemed amused and kind yet sharply browed eyes flickered downwards.
“Yes, poor Lumo, all locked away. He’s grown quite desperate to escape that ivory prison. The boy even reached out to me out of all people for help,” he chuckled. “He hates me.”
I watched him smile again, amused at his own words as I absorbed every syllable.
“It thought it would take weeks to find you. Yet a couple gold and a few birds later, here you are. Stunning.”
I shook my head.
“So, who is it? Who are you here for? Herculea or Lumo?” I said, bracing myself for his answer.
“Neither. I don’t work for anyone. Why would I?” he smiled, “What could either one of them possibly offer me?”
My stomach tightened.
“Why are you here?”
“Good question!” he clapped, “I suppose I should ask you the same... Out here, in the middle of a swamp, deep inside The Barrens. You did lovely in that fight, especially for the first time using such a powerful weapon. Ciro taught you well.”
“You were watching?”
“Oh dear girl, I am always watching,” he smiled with the same kind smile as before. “So is this it then? You’re a Barrens rebel now? Conquer the south then slaughter your way through each of the guardians? Then what?”
I readjusted my now sweated grip on my still-aimed weapon.
“I’m just trying to protect myself.”
“Oh, we both know that’s not true. If you wanted safety, you would have stayed put at that dreaded beach,” he yawned. “So what is it?”
He leaned back, lost in thought.
“Let’s say you, by some miraculous means, kill Herculea - then what? You and the boy live happily ever after? Like her or not, she’s one of the four pillars holding any sort of order in the realm. You see, the balance of the realm is a fickle thing. It took years and many bodies to get where we are today. You may not see it, young one, but there is stability.”
“At whose cost? Should I just accept my fate and die? Should we all just let you keep killing all blood mages, and taking the magic from your disciples?”
I felt a familiar fire begin to burn inside me.
To my surprise, Myrot smiled.
“Ah! There it is. That’s why you’re here,” he said, slowly standing and idly picking at the plant debris on his robe once more.
“We don’t have to be enemies, Mira. Nor do I want to be,” he smiled, “Your courage is admirable. Even now you have that blade pointed at me, though I could destroy you with a snap of my fingers. It’s charming. I can see why Lumo’s so taken with you.”
“So what is it that you want?”
Suddenly, there was rustling of branches beside me in the tree line, and I turned to see the source of the noise. There was a flash of red hair followed by the distinct buzz of a million little insects.
Aixel.
Before I could move, Myrel was behind me, holding my arms at my side with a single firm arm holding me tight to his chest. I felt the cold silver of a dagger at my neck as he traced a once invisible blade along my throat. My breath stuck in my lungs and my blade dropped with a rattle of the rocks surrounding the dying fire.
“Shush now, little one. You’re far too interesting of a piece in this game to throw out just yet,” he whispered in the same silken tone from behind my ear.
Before us, Aixel materialized back into his body, with little Doris beside him at the ready.
“Let her go,” he said.
“Ah, how I hate void mages. They really make my skin crawl,” chuckled Myrot in a whisper, the cold metal still at my neck. “Let’s not make this messy now, shall we? I want nothing but to leave.”
Aixel, much to my surprise, took a step forward.
“I see your eyes, blood mage,” he said, voice in the same familiar, steady and unamused tone. “But clothes like that don’t belong in the Barrens. Who are you?”
Aixel then stepped to the side, trying to get a closer look at his face, seemingly unpressured by my imminent demise.
“Myrot,” I whispered.
Aixel’s eyes suddenly grew wide before his body burst into his clouded void-form, and in an instant, he was barrelling towards us at a speed I had not seen before. Myrot flinched behind me and I heard a pop as he turned into his own form of bright white-gold mist. I fell backwards and watched as the two clouds, one white, one black, swirled around each other at dazzling speed. There was a tornado-like impact through the swamp, sending water, vines, and shredded bark in a flurry around me. The debris was matched with the occasional thunder-crack of unseen magic, echoing off the trees and splintering in ricochet across an unknown but great distance as the spiraled between trees and into the dark of the night.
I sat watching and holding my breath.
There was a little chitter at my side and I looked over to see Doris there, staring back at me. Her little black eyes almost seemed confused at my apparent worry. I then watched as the odd little creature gave a little hop onto my lap, a trail of black smoke behind her, before she began to clean her face with her paws.
I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
Myrot.
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