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“You really shouldn’t have taunted Travain like that. The prince has a nasty temper.” I scolded while dabbing at the bleeding cut over his eye with a moist cloth. Alec winced, sucking a breath in sharply as I pressed a little harder to get my point across.
“It was no taunt. The prince needed his technique criticized in order for him to improve.” He stated like it was obvious while I rinsed out the bloody rag in the pan of water next to my leg.
After Travain threw his fit in the archery training area, a deathly quiet Thorn walked with me back to the mansion while the humming buzz of fresh gossip traveled through the rapidly flapping jaws of the other soldiers and the household servants, quickly spreading the latest news of the unstable mental state of the royal family members to even the furthest reaches of the kingdom. I was quickly accepted back into housekeeping duties that included Sandra pressing me into ironing service while she washed and dried the linens and clothing – it was the laundry maids’s day off—The repetitive motion of the strokes of the heated iron smoothing across the soft, colorful fabrics allowed my mind to wander over Alec’s fate. Was he injured from the strength of the prince’s blows that had bent the iron bars of his window like they were made of paper? Or had the werewolf somehow managed to avoid harm in the tiny cell?
More importantly, why did I even care?
Why did I care about someone that had lied to me from the very moment we’d met. Who had thrown my life into chaos and utterly destroyed everything he touched. Yet, he had also saved my life at least three times now, the Bloodwrath, the werewolf, and calmed the magic that had raged in my blood with such ferocity. Why did I find his companionship so welcoming even to the point where I was missing the letters he sent by Stryker something fierce. There was a feeling there that I wasn’t used to, to put it in words, I still felt safe with him.
Regardless of my inner turmoil, I went about my tasks almost mechanically, constantly watching the clocks for the time to stop and eat and knowing that only then could I break away. My hands involuntary followed the orders set before them, receiving an odd look more than once from Sandra for my silence and easy compliance but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was needed by someone.
Once dinner came, I bolted down my dinner so quick that I didn’t recognize what it was, which only served to increase the odd looks of my companions. Then I excused myself, explaining that my head was aching horribly, and retired to my room. Except I only stayed there for a few minutes before I bolted for the hidden passageway Sandra had revealed to me only the night before. I slid my hand against the wall, quickly finding the curved intention of the trigger, and pushed. The wall cracked open without a sound tonight, swinging freely in the dark that almost seemed to be welcoming my presence onward. I had no lamp or other light to guide my way down the dark steps and through the tunnel, but I rushed onward with my palms blazing with golden light, trusting that the recent memories of my steps would guide my path and that I wouldn’t wind up lost in some abandoned corner to petrify into a dust crusted skeleton.
I reached the end sooner than I expected, my fingers scrabbling like spiders while trying to open the heavy lock in the complete darkness. The resulting thud as the lock came open was louder than I had anticipated, and I cautiously crept forward into the dimly lit chamber beyond the doorway. Inside, I peeked through the eyeholes carved in the walls to ensure there was no unwarranted visitors hanging around inside the dungeon. All was calm, if not suspiciously quiet based on the repeated drunken cackles of the guards beyond the staircase were anything to judge by.
“Alec!” I hissed, running out of the hidden encove and straight to his cell. The metal bars were cold to my hands as my fingers curved around the smooth surface and clenched tight. His cell was mostly bathed in darkness, a lone strip broken by the silver moonlight that shone through his tiny window and patterned against the stone floor in a smooth sheen of silver. “Alec? Are you hurt? Do I need to get physican?” I whispered again into the darkness.
The sound of metal rattled against stone as something shifted in the dark, a chained form shuffling closer to the light in response to my calls. I waited, teeth nervously tugging at my lower lip for a response. Something must be wrong if he wasn’t answering me, but if Alec was that far gone, he wouldn’t be moving would he? I watched in half-fear, half-dread as the shuffling form came closer, revealing the werewolf I knew with a stream of dried blood still trickling from a cut above his left eye, the right eye that sparkled with such beauty was now bruised black and swelled shut where the tender skin of his cheek had doubled in size, swelled to any angry bright red in a fair imitation of a fresh apple. His lips had split and broken as well where Travain’s boot must have kicked him repeatedly in the face.
“Oh my... Are you... What do you need me to do for you?” I finally managed to stammer out. He needed a physician or something. Who knew what kind of damage laid underneath those bruises? I had read once where a man had been kicked in the face, his nose broke off and splinters jammed backwards straight up into his brain, killing him in just a matter of moments. I couldn’t let that happen to Alec.
His normal eye danced over my face in a searching gaze. “Why are you here?”
“What!” I screeched, then clapped a hand over my mouth before darting a guilty glance over to the staircase. Good. No one noticed over the drunken revelry. “What do you mean why am I here? You said that you would tell me later what being a luminary means, and that was before I saw you get your face kicked in. So, I’m sorry if I was a little worried about you.”
“You were worried about me?” He asked, surprise lightening the mists of darker green swirling in his eye to the softer green color that I had knew first.
“Yes, and it looks like I had reason to be! You look like a horse ran over you! Is anything broken?”
“I don’t think so, but my shoulder is a little stiff.” Alec rotated his right shoulder in a demonstration and winced in pain, which also reopened the cut above his eye and sent fresh blood trickling down the panes of his cheekbones.
“Oh, shit. You’re bleeding again.” I looked around and spotted a round pan sitting underneath a rusty faucet installed close to the entrance of the stairs. I cautiously crept forward, keeping one eye ever watchful on the staircase and the dark lumpy shadows of the drunken guards atop of it, and twisted the knob till a gush of clear, cool water came forth in a trickle. It spattered in the pan with a metallic plink till a thin layer of water covered the bottom surface. Once it had filled a quarter full, I shut off the water and carefully collected the pan before crossing back to Alec’s cell. The guards never noticed, too lost in the passing of a large jug and the cards held in their hands to notice that someone was sneaking around the prisoner’s cells. At the moment, Alec was the only prisoner as I noticed that the other cells were empty as I passed by – whether that was a blessing or a curse for the future, I didn’t know.
The prisoner in question was waiting patiently by the door to his cell, having sat down on the cold stone floor, he silently watched me approach with a questioning look in his eyes. I placed the pan of water at my side and knelt down till the coldness of the stones seeped through the protective fabric of my dress and straight into my skin. I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket and swirled the fabric in the water before twisting it between my fingers to get rid the excess liquid. The water was cold as a winter’s breeze for tonight to have been so warm, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I reached through the bars and pressed the cloth to his bruised eye first, Alec hissed long and low through his teeth—whether it was from the coldness of the water or if he was surprised by my touch I didn’t know – but wiped carefully over the swollen surface with smooth, steady strokes. Dirt and dried blood came off immediately and stained the rag red and black before I rinsed it and repeated the process, this time moving up to include the cut along his brow as well. The lashes of his swollen eye fluttered against my fingers like a thick fringe of black feathers and were almost nearly as lush. I surprised myself a bit by noticing, and then he surprised me in turn by leaning his head forward till his forehead rested against the bars and closed his good eye, completely granted me the freedom to do whatever I pleased.
“That feels... nice.” He whispered at last.
That was how the next few minutes had passed till his eye reopened again when I made the remark about taunting Travain. Just from those few moments of treatment with the icy water, his wounds already showed improvement or they had truly not been as severe as I had thought underneath the crust of dried blood and grime. For whatever the truth, I was glad that he was okay.
“I want to ask you something.” I said while scooting the pan of bloody water away, folding the fabric of my dress around my knees as I sat completely down on the floor beside him. The floor was cold, but not as cold as the iron bars that pressed up against my side. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body between the spaces without any physical contact, producing a weird hot and cold sensation that tingled across my skin like the shocking sensation of my magic. “If you could do magic like you did for me, why can’t you heal yourself?”
Alec’s head thumped softly against the wall as he leaned backwards. “It’s complicated, but mainly because I’m wearing silver handcuffs.” He rattled the thick metal cuffs on his wrists for emphasis. “Basically, it prevents me from using my power on myself, or on major things like the bars of this cell. I can do a few small things, but the majority of my magic is restricted. It’s actually rather funny that the cuffs are enchanted to prevent magic from happening, yet magic is completely outlawed in this kingdom.”
“What about whatever that was you did for me? That wasn’t a big enough feat for the cuffs to stop you.” It certainly felt like a big deal to me when I was on the verge of exploding or melting, possibly both.
“Your magic was different, all I did was refract your exposed magic with my own. It soothed the agitation and retreated back into your body till you need it again.”
My puzzled expression must have voiced my confusion because he shifted up to his knees and faced me eye to eye – more or less.
“Think of magic like a muscle, it has to be flexed to be used and yours was cramped into an extreme flex. All I did was provide the soothing massage necessary to relax the stiffened muscle back into its normal position. And you still don’t get it.” He sighed.
“No, no. I get it.” I waved my hands in dismissal. “I just don’t understand all this. What does it mean for me to suddenly have magic? Why hasn’t anyone told me before? Why did you call me luminary? What does it all mean?”
“Luminary means that you have light magic. A very valuable and rare form of magic because it, like light, can take the form of whatever subject you choose. I have not witnessed a luminary user like yourself in life, but I have researched the ability to some extent. The tales of such magic say that a user can form light out of nothing but darkness, command any form they wish, and form objects crafted from the light itself. That is different from abilities such as a water or fire user where their magic lies in the form of the element itself. They can control the flame or water and vary the element in whatever strength they desire, but they cannot change its shape to form other objects, as yours theoretically can.”
I recalled the flame Sandra had summoned to her hand. I guess that means they can make it as strong as they want, but they can’t change it into something else like water into fire or water into earth? Everything I’ve always read said that you could, which leads me to another question. “What about you? You can shift into a giant-ass wolf and do magic! So what are you?”
Alec chuckled. “I am a Corona. A user of lunar magic versus you who are a user of solar magic. I can bend light similar to you, yes. But it is different. I can’t create the light like you can. I can only use whatever is already created for my magic. Also, I can’t imitate other form of magic. Like the moon itself, we reflect the light. Shifting our forms into the ‘werewolves’ as you call them is just one example of our magic’s unique traits.”
He reached out a hand towards the moonlight filtering through the window, palm up and fingers extended like he was trying to touch it without moving. Subtly, the light began to shift, ripples shimmering across the reflected surface like a breeze skating across a pool of water. The ripples grew stronger, churning into giant waves of silver that rolled across the lit surface to slam against the edge made of shadows over and over. Finally, the silver light broke free of its flat prison to streak across the floor like a rain swollen stream, snaking across the floor to end just in front of Alec’s feet to rear up like a cobra before bowing into his cupped palm. The light both shrunk and stretched as it shifted, becoming a melon-sized globe of concentrated silver light floating just above the roughened skin of his palm.
“Wow!” I murmured, completely and utterly shocked at the sight. This was a minor act of magic? What did a major act consist of? “How... How did you do that?”
“It’s simple. I had an image of what I wanted the light to appear as in my thoughts, and I simply called the magic forth to shape the moonlight.” His eyes never left the glowing orb as he slipped the hand balancing it through the bars. “Why don’t you try?”
My tongue flicked out nervously to wet my dry lips. “I don’t know how to.”
“Kyri, do you trust me?” He asked. If not for using my name, I might not have responded at all.
My answer was simple. “No.”
Alec sighed. “Let me put it this way. Do you want to learn how to control your magic?”
This time, my reply was much quieter. “Yes.” I whispered.
“Then close your eyes.”
I did.
“Concentrate on the way your body feels. The way the air steadily flows into your lungs when you breathe in. The feel of blood pushed through your body with every heartbeat. Concentrate till you can feel every surge of energy traveling beneath your skin. Can you feel it?” His voice rumbled in my ear, the heat of his breath warming the chilled surface.
I nodded, temporarily unable to speak but I could feel it. A line of power traveled through my body in addition to my veins, throbbing in time with my heart as the magic pulsed along bright and clear as the morning sun in the skin of my palms.
“Think of something you like. Any shape or thing at all, it doesn’t matter. Just something that you know well enough that you could replicate if you tried to draw it.”
I knew exactly what I wanted. The first image that came to mind was an owl, but not just any owl. No, it was Stryker. The snarky, self-riotous bird that had both guided me through the forest and insulted me twice, but had also wound up becoming my friend. I could clearly see the curved feathered horns atop his head on either side of his eyes, the smirking curve of his beak and the lethally sharp talons. The creamy soft feathers beneath his chin and the way his wings flapped soundlessly during flight as the feathers curved to provide the maximum silence for each motion.
“Do you have your image in mind?”
“Yes.” I could clearly see the Stryker flying through the air, his every wingbeat smooth and proud as often befits a bird of prey.
“Keep it there. Now, stretch out your hand like you are reaching for that thought.”
My hand was steady as I lifted it up, my fingers outstretched like I was going to touch the owl. Something large and warm brushed against my palm, the feeling soft as a bolt of the most expensive velvet fabric that I had once touched.
“Open your eyes.” His command was gentle, yet stern. The heat from his speech curled around my neck like fire, raking talons of warmth down my spine. My eyes fluttered open as I shivered, feeling entirely too warm and yet also too cool at the same time.
The orb of silver light that had previously floated in Alec’s palm had now transferred to my own. The light no longer silver, but now had changed into the most beautiful golden color just like what I normally tried to control from my hands. Also, what had once been seamlessly round now floated as a miniature great horned owl. The two wings flapped slowly as they did in life, propelling the bird along in lazy gliding circles. Two glittering gleaming eyes stared back at me with humor glowing in the depths, the curved beak half open in a light smile. This was the Stryker, replicated entirely in miniature and consisting of nothing more than golden light.
“I did it!” I cheered as I leaped to my feet, just a little bit too enthusiastically because my footsteps clattered loudly against the stone flooring. “I can’t believe it!”
“Shush, not so loud.” He placed a finger to his lips in a warning to be quiet.
My cheeks flushed red as I knelt back down, the owl still balanced in my palm and turning silent circles. “Oops, sorry.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think they noticed.” He whispered. “If you want to release it, just feel for that link of magic holding the light captive and pull it back slowly.”
“Why slowly?” I blinked at him.
“Because magic has a tenacity to explode if released quickly. Even more so with someone like myself or you who has a tenacity to have more magic than normal. I’ve seen tiny children release their magic and destroy entire houses and neighborhoods in the span of a heartbeat.”
Oh. Well, I certainly didn’t want to do that. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the flow of magic holding the bird in place, feeling for the invisible tether that was keeping it all tied together with mental fingers plucking and pulling at the surface. The laces had everything tied together neatly, but I was able to find that single lace-like string binding it all together and slowly tugged, feeling the control over the figure of light slip away like spider’s silk flowing through my hands. The golden light drifted up on an invisible breeze, flying softly back to puddle on the stone floor in its original position as a reflection of pure moonlight.
In the light’s absence, my hand suddenly felt cold as ice itself. I curled my fingers into the folds of my dress for warmth, but there was none as the chilled feeling spread all over my skin, just like I had the night before after Alec had cooled my rampaging magic. “That was exciting and all, but I want to ask you something. If my magic can take any form, why did it do all that last night? The glowing, burning, and claws and stuff?”
“Every person’s magic works differently, so it’s hard to determine. But I have a suspicion that your magic imitated magic that you had already saw. The heat from Sandra’s fire magic and the claws from my werewolf form. However, the glowing golden light was all yours, a unique skill that only Luminary possess.”
I nodded. That made sense because that was what I had struggled with hiding for years. “Why did it just wake up with that intensity and not before? Was it just a coincidence that Solomon was telling me about how I had inherited some mystical power from my father, only to have it awaken fully mere moments after I left his cabin?”
Alec’s emerald gaze sharpened with interest. “Who’s Solomon? And how does he know about your magic?”
“Solomon is one of the commoners who works in the mansion for the king and is the aviary master for the king’s raptors. I don’t know how he really knew, but he claimed that he knew my father when he was a huntsmen and learned about his power then. He also claimed that my father told him to warn me of Nikos if I should ever find myself here. Whether it’s the truth or not, I don’t know.” I had my own serious doubts as to the accuracy of the information as to whether it was the deranged ramblings of an old man or if his memory held true.
“Interesting. Most people who have warned others about the king and his shadows have long since fallen prey to them.” Alec rubbed at the side of his face thoughtfully.
“You knew about the shadows?”
“Yes, we were aware of the disturbing presence of dark magic lurking about this kingdom. That is one of the reasons why I came here along with my companions to see what happens as a result of that influence.”
Companions? So he wasn’t working alone? “What are you, some kind of royal prince come to save all us peasants from the evil leader holding us hostage? That really sounds like something out of a fairy tale.”
Alec chuckled lightly with a slightly lopsided smile. “I guess you could say I’m something like that.”
Suddenly, I felt very nervous with the direction this conversation was taking, my hands fluttering about my skirt with the excess energy and starting to glow a faint gold. “What do you mean by that?”
He shifted so that he could look me dead in the eye. “If I told you that I had many innocent lives depending on whether or not I succeeded at my task, would you believe me?”
I squirmed under the intense power of his gaze, feeling much like a trapped rat stuck tight in Stryker’s razor sharp talons. I didn’t feel like he was lying to me, but I wondered about the ones he said was relying on him to accomplish his task, and just what did that entail? “I should go.” I whispered, reaching down to fetch the pan of bloody water. I needed to get out of here, to clear my head in the night air. No matter how many pieces of this new life I gathered, even more confusing ones continued to appear with each more puzzling than the last.
“Wait.” I jumped when his hand reached out to take mine, his fingers holding so tight to mine like he was afraid I would vanish in the wind like a phantom. I slowly slid my gaze up to meet his, realizing just how close we now stood despite the bars of his cell separating us. He was so close that I could feel the heat of his breath fan across my face, helplessly pinned beneath his gaze that now glistened with an unknown inner light tinged just with the fringes of gold around the emerald edges. The most beautiful gems the world had ever seen and no one could own. “Thank you for tending to me once again.” He said.
I was momentarily confused between the words that didn’t make sense to my ears and the desire to just stare in his eyes and forget the rest of my cares. My tongue felt like sharp-edged rocks as I forced it to move and speak my question in the most eloquent way I could say. ”Huh?”
His deep bass chuckle rumbled to life as his fingers slightly loosened their grip on my own. “Every time I’ve encountered harm, you have always been there to patch me back up. I owe you my life for removing those arrows back then. For if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here now.”
“Well, every time you get hurt, it is usually my fault anyway.” I tried to chuckle self-consciously, but the noise died in my throat like the garbled squeak of a mouse.
“It is my honor to protect a beautiful lady such as yourself from harm.” Those uncanny eyes of his flashed with unsaid emotion as he fully released my fingers to reach out and tuck a wayward strand of my dark hair behind my ear. The calloused fingers continued their journey by sliding down the curve of my cheek, lingering just under my chin to prod my face slightly upwards towards his.
“I though you said you didn’t lie.” I tried to swallow against the growing lump of unnamed emotion that had gathered in my throat. A heat began to spread across my face and down my limbs, turning my skin scarlet red as I flushed a shade more akin to a bright sunburn. Shimmering and plucking along where my fingers had been in contact with his, I could feel the flow of my magic simmering in contact with the cool remains of his.
“I don’t. You are beautiful. Breathtakingly so.” His thumb continued to stroke along my cheek as he whispered the words to me. I didn’t know what to say or do. Of all the words I’ve been called, beautiful has never been one of them. Maybe that was why I found myself reaching for him, for my hands to lift and wind around his neck, pulling him down the short distance that separated us for a kiss.
Except it never happened, the loud slapping sounds of footsteps thundering through the secret passage gave us barely enough of a warning that we sprang apart as if we had both been doused in boiling water with faces nearly that same burning shade of red. “Kyri! Where in blazes have you been? I’ve looked everywhere for you! I was beginning to think you were dead or something!” Sandra’s voice was higher pitched than normal with her emotion as the scampered into view. Her curly chocolate strands had worked free of the constraints of her maid’s cap and bunched crazily about her head, only enhancing the slightly manic expression of fear widened eyes and paled features that already was visible in the low light.
“Sandra, what’s wrong?” I asked while Alec coughed into his fist, trying to hide the ruby shade of his own cheeks.
“Oh, my gosh! It’s horrible. You’ll never believe it! I couldn’t hardly believe it myself. Nikos is going on a rampage over this and even Travain can’t get him to stop! He’s demanding that everyone appear in the royal garden immediately! All the mansion staff, us, the guards, everyone! He swears he is going to find the culprit before the sun rises!” She jabbered so fast that I could have sworn that her eyes were rolling back in her head.
“Melisandra, calm yourself and tell us what happened.” Alec’s calm, cool command cut through Sandra’s hysterics like a knife. She instantly stilled, her hands picking at the bodice of her dress as she turned her eyes full of tears up to us.
“Solomon is dead. Angelo found him murdered in his cabin.”
Oh, shit!