Ariiaya
Gods, he moved exactly as he had back at the castle – like death itself gave him wings.
Arii stared; her eyes wide as her heart hammered in her chest.
He had let go, finally let go and embraced the magic he had been dabbling in for so long. But she knew what they saw now was just skimming the surface of what Elijah could do. Whenever she was near him it felt like something were thickening the very air around them. Gentle magic did not do that – gentle magic did not allow someone to manipulate the very ground beneath them, causing it to shudder and splinter.
Arii’s eyes slid to a flaring of snow as it whipped in a mini tornado near the other end of the arena – and suddenly dread coiled in her guts.
No… it could not be.
“Arii, what the hell is that?” cried Tikkani, pointing towards the slowly coalescing form of a giant ice creature. The sudden sickeningly sweet taste of thick magic invaded Arii’s taste buds and her senses peaked to high alert.
Snow crunched under the boots of her comrades, all of which had risen from their seats. Arii did not need to see the faces of her pirate friends to know that they watched the arena in awe, their bellows lost in the boom, while Emerson and Luc gasped at the scene developing before them.
“What the fuck?” yelled Krepth, and Arii followed his gaze to where the two Princes stood.
Jero and Thogan were both standing, arms outstretched, eyes glistening with light as magic sizzled around their outstretched palms.
Magic users.
Fae magic users.
Arii did not have the time to think, her mind dashing back to Elijah on the arena floor as ear-splitting roars reverberated around the stadium, the sound almost metallic and unnatural. Her eyes widened at the sight of enormous, crudely-cut ice sculptures given life, glittering like diamonds in the winter light.
Standing at the end of the arena were two colossal bears made of ice.
Elijah
Elijah remembered the brothers’ passing mention of warriors and beasts in the Permafrost Arena… but he had been expecting creatures of flesh and blood.
Not ones made of magic and ice.
Vax’s voice called over the grunts of the forming animals, his face lit with madness as he lifted his sword to the heavens and bellowed, “You wield magic, boy – but can you conquer it?”
Elijah’s lips curled back in a snarl as his eyes darted to the bears – two behemoth crystal forms heading their way. Slowly, he began to unbuckle his armour, letting the metal slide from his shoulders and hit the snow with a metallic crash, leaving him in nothing but undertunic and leathers as he rolled his neck and shoulders. He tore the material from his arms, tossing the bloodstained cloth to the snow – leaving his muscled arms bare to the cold – welcoming the stinging chill. The bite on his skin narrowed his focus as he blew out a breath.
Now he understood partly why the Vox brothers had detached themselves from the north. They were Fae, and they had magic. Two things that the north hunted and hated. He guessed their parents had kept their children’s secrets well-guarded.
Boots skidding on the snow, he ducked into a fighter’s stance, and threw his hands into his magic again, fingers clutching at the churning pool in desperation.
The magic fell through his fingers like water, as if evading him.
Gods, what was happening?
He did not have time to ponder though, what little sun was left in the sky was spearing through ice as one of the bears thundered his way – roaring with animal anger as it charged. Elijah spun, sprinting for one of the crags he had brought forth from the earth. He tore up the jagged spear of stone, fingers scrabbling as he twisted, using the stone as leverage. His muscles bunched, screaming at him, but he pushed all feeling back and leaped.
Leaped straight at the creature.
The beast flew by, slamming into the crag with a solid boom as Elijah landed on its back. His fingers slipped against the ice, fingernails cracking and breaking. A curse slid from his teeth as he struggled to find a hold that didn’t send him plummeting from the beast’s back.
All the while, he threw his mind into the pool of magic, mentally groping as it wavered and recoiled. Still, it did not come to him.
Desperation began to rise. Had he finally drawn upon too much? Had he hit the bottom of his stores of magic? He didn’t believe so, for the shimmering pool was still before him – he just could not grasp it.
The bear threw its head back, bellowing with rage. Its twin thundered ahead, glittering ice claws swiping across the back of its brother – screeching like nails down stone. Elijah jerked, narrowly avoiding the swipe, scrabbling further up the bear’s neck towards its head.
Suddenly, Elijah felt his body jolt, his perch sliding from beneath him as he was thrown from the creature’s back. He snapped into a roll, skidding across the snow and recovering just in time to flip backwards as his face almost met the blade of Vax’s great sword. He had not even noticed the man, his attention focused on the ice bears.
Elijah spun, slamming his boot into the man’s arm, causing the warrior to bark with pain – seconds before he rolled away from a raging animal of ice, jaws snapping in the air where he had been moments ago. It was a precarious, flailing, dangerous dance that Elijah was sure was a grand spectacle for the audience. He was running out of time, and strength. He needed his magic, and in the heat of the moment he decided to draw upon just a touch. Attempting to disarm the southern warrior, Elijah pinched a slither of magic and formed a small blade, burying it into the warrior’s thigh. Vax roared, eyes wide as Elijah arched in a swift somersault, narrowly avoiding beheading by Vax’s blade.
Then he was slammed in the side by a colossal paw, sending him flying across the arena.
He hit the snow-covered dirt hard, the breath whooshing from his lungs. He had been outnumbered before, but now he was surely outmatched. Slowly he stood, recovering his breath in gasps as snow began to fall like icing sugar. White flakes rested on his shoulders and touched his eyelashes like tiny fingers.
Ahead, Vax approached, seemingly in slow motion.
As Elijah exhaled, Arii’s voice burst like starlight through his mind.
All you need to do is concentrate.
Magic is part of your soul, accept it fully without doubt and it will not hesitate to aid you.
Stop holding back!
Pressing back everything but the need to defend, Elijah emptied his mind until it was just him and the rippling pool of his power. Changing tactics, he tenderly coaxed the magic to him. For so long he had pushed it away, fought against it, hated it – even without the knowledge of what it truly was. He had seen its destructive capabilities, but he had also seen what else it could do.
Heal, bring life, create things from nothing.
In the hands of the right person perhaps magic could do more than bring about fear. It could change lives, for the better.
Now, he caressed the power, brought it forth and asked it to do his bidding. Unlike before, he had grasped at it haphazardly – plucked it forth unemotionally.
Now, he begged the shimmering essence within himself for help.
Not for him – but for those who relied upon them both.
The iridescent magic flowed forth, filling his body, his mind. Elijah suddenly realised it was not a pool before him… but a glittering lake of writhing, rippling luminescent power.
The magic engulfed his soul in glistening light.
Then he was moving, his body a blur of exploding sparks and snapping magic – a vortex of shimmering light as his body disappeared…
And snapped back into existence a foot in the air behind Vax Bloodborne.
The man’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth popping open as Elijah dropped upon his shoulders, boots digging into the man’s hips as Elijah’s arm slid around the man’s neck, snapping into a chokehold that had his muscles bunching and veins popping to the surface of his skin.
Vax began to flail, sword jerking in an attempt to dislodge as his face began to turn red. Elijah grimaced, hold never slipping as the warrior’s spittle showered his arm and Vax choked, snow raining on them as the bears thundered their way.
Magic whipped up in a vortex around him, and Elijah willed forth another massive crag from the earth with nothing but a thought, his eyes darting to the closest bear as the magic impaled the creature through its middle – ice shards exploding over the nearby crowd.
By now, the people of the stands were on the edge of their seats, the sound an incomprehensible boom. Elijah swore he could hear cheering in amongst the thunder.
Vax dropped his sword to snatch a knife from his boot, stabbing it up and into Elijah’s side – the blade passing through his skin and searing pain into his gut.
He uttered a pain-filled curse but did not let his grip cease.
Vax began to tire, his face turning purple as he dropped to his knees, eyes rolling back as he slid into unconsciousness. When he felt the man slacken, Elijah released his hold and let the man fall to the snow face first, his giant body slamming to the blood-soaked dirt with a heavy thud.
With a huff and a growl of pain, Elijah tore the knife free, throwing it down as blood seeped through his parted fingers.
It was time to end this.
Elijah turned to face the last creature, swiping snow from his eyes as he broke into a dead sprint, heading directly at the beast as its massive paws quaked the ground beneath his feet like an oncoming stampede. Arms pumping, Elijah coaxed the magic forth, light erupting from within his chest as he let the power envelope him in its embrace – nerve endings alight as he leaped, stars exploding around his body and snapping it into nothingness.
Reappearing directly above the bear, he dropped onto its neck and slammed his hands on its skull, his fingers shattering the ice. Pain tore up his hands and into his arms. He could hear a high-pitched screech as the magic billowed forth from within him, glittering specks of snow rising around them like suspended diamonds as gravity ceased for the tiniest of moments.
“This is for the north,” he uttered savagely, eyes aglow with lightning as he commanded power to punch into the beast’s skull – light erupting within the animal’s eyes before its roaring body reared back…
And its head exploded into a glittering shower of light and ice.
Ariiaya
A shockwave followed the explosion of the ice bear, a wave of power that had the entire audience of the arena falling over one another, including Arii, their friends and the Vox brothers.
Jero and Thogan slammed against their seats as snow hit their faces. A fine mist drifted in the air, leaving the arena in fog as Arii recovered first, throwing herself forward against the balustrades.
“Elijah!” she screamed, unable to see him.
‘Death, it is imminent. For you, for him, and for everyone you hold dear.’
Arii shook her head against the voice of the wraith, snarling, “Not now!”
The mist began to drop, and she saw a halo of cleared snow, rings of ice scattered across the floor.
Krepth attempted to grab her arm, her name cracking from his lips like a whip – but he was too slow. She vaulted over the stone lip, dropping to the snow-covered floor below. Boots hitting the earth, she snapped into a roll, leaping into a sprint towards the wavering form ahead.
Her body collided with Elijah’s just before he hit the ground. She grunted, his weight a shock as she held firm, his name all she could muster as she guided him to his knees.
“Elijah!” she called again, slipping under his arm and wincing as static flared across her skin at the contact.
“I promised you…” he mumbled as she lifted his face to stare into his steel grey eyes.
“Hush, you great big incredible brute! Hush,” she demanded, her hands moving to check his wounds. “Let’s get you into the warmth.”
As she spoke, Nem appeared on Elijah’s other side, helping to hoist him to his feet.
Arii’s body shook with relief. He was alive… and he had won.
Above, the crowd’s voices melded into one as they thundered, fists pumping to the sky as they roared a war melody into the frosty air.
“Herington. Herington. True King of the North!”
***
Elijah winced in his sleep under her glowing palms as Arii brought the healing magic to her fingers, watching as deep wounds began to knit. He lay shirtless upon the bed they had shared the night before, blood a crimson stain upon the white sheets as his stomach flexed beneath her hands. His brow was beaded with sweat, the pillow drenched, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths as he slowly returned to consciousness.
What they had all witnessed in the arena, Arii was sure word would be cascading across the land like water down a crystal stream. Elijah had emerged victorious against the south’s greatest warriors and colossal beasts made from magic and ice.
She assessed him as his muscles began to relax. His head was tilted, his gaze fixed on her as her fingers began to retreat from his skin. She had not noticed he had awoken.
The air was thick, the raging fireplace crackling furiously as her eyes skidded over Elijah’s face – relief mixing so violently in her stomach that she felt ill.
He had done it.
He had finally let go and embraced what he was.
Now he needed to embrace who he was.
They were leaps and bounds ahead of where they were yesterday, there was no denying that. If he truly did not want what was to come next, he could have spread his arms and allowed the warriors of the north to take his life right there in the middle of the arena.
Yet, he had fought, and he was alive – his beautiful, dark features flickering in the firelight as they stared at one another in silence.
“Nice to see you,” she whispered, watching as a weak smile tweaked his lips. Her slowly warming heart squeezed in the confines of her chest.
“I must look like hell – the Gods know I feel it.” Elijah croaked.
She helped him sit up against the wooden bedhead and handed him a tankard of water as she said, “You used a lot of magic. For someone who has been suppressing it for twenty years, you can expect to feel like shit.”
He huffed a laugh, downing the water.
“You were… incredible,” she whispered honestly, her violet eyes wide and unblinking as he rested the mug on his lap. He was silent for a time, staring into the cup with a strange expression.
“You don’t think… they’ll fear me, do you?”
The question had Arii pausing as she cleaned her hands in a pail of water, her eyes drifting to the fireplace, watching the flickering inferno within as she shifted through what she should say.
“No, you don’t understand how different the other courts are to the one you grew up in. Magic was once embraced, revered and used to protect. Your kind of magic has not been seen in a long time, yet the people here did not seem surprised by it – nor did they seem to fear it.”
She tilted her head to look at him, drying her hands on a scrap of cloth, her thick hair dashing across her cheek as she continued, “Well, you saw what the Princes did. Perhaps your kind of magic is not as rare as we first thought. It has been kept secret, waiting for the chance to be brought forth to make a difference.”
“Jero and Thogan… they’re Fae?”
Arii’s brows narrowed at his words. “Yes, it seems so. They’ve kept it a well-hidden secret, one which I’m sure Valdis would love to discover,” she said with venom. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes lifted to meet his. “We have some hard-hitting questions for those bastards.”
Elijah contemplated her words before she suddenly said, “Elijah, I don’t mean to alarm you but… you teleported across the arena. Do you have any idea how insanely cool that is?”
He chuckled in earnest then, the deep rumble causing her toes to curl.
A knock sounded at the door, causing Arii’s smile to fall. Nem entered, her silver hair pulled up into a bun, accentuating her high cheekbones.
“If Elijah is ready, Jero and Thogan wish for an audience.” She blinked, her look almost bird-like in its cool assessment as she nodded towards him. “Glad to see you alive, Elijah.”
His answering smile was gentle as Nem ducked from the room.
Arii turned back to her charge, surveying his body quickly before she busied herself with tugging down her sleeves, eager to look anywhere but his bare, perfectly sculpted torso.
“Thank you,” Elijah murmured suddenly, sliding next to her on the bed. His words were low, and she knew they held much more meaning than just the healing of his immediate wounds. She faced him, feeling the heat thrumming from his bare skin as she gently wiped a cloth over his still-damp forehead.
“Don’t mention it,” she whispered, eyes fixed on his as the feeling of his fingers dancing along her arm had her suppressing a shiver of desire.
With a jolt in her stomach, she realised she would always be utterly and inexplicably infatuated by him. She could no longer deny the feelings growing within her.
Without looking back at him she said, “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
She heard him move to her, his broad form taking up her vison as she straightened to hand him the neatly folded clothes and whispered, “I’ll just step out for a moment.”
His deep chuckle was a honey caress against her insides.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, gently taking the clothes from her and beginning to dress.
“You can’t blame me from at least trying to respect your privacy,” but she paused as her eyes drifted over him as he turned slightly – the scars so vivid against his back that she felt her beast rise, snarling at the thought of his past. That need to fight, to protect, flared within her as she surveyed the carved muscles of his back, the ripple of his arms, power lacing every little movement he made.
It had taken every fibre of her being not to leap into the Permafrost Arena to his aid; and taken every ounce of willpower not to turn on the Princes and make them end the fight. When she had realised that he was expected to fight without weapons against fully-armed foes, she had nearly burst into flames of pure fury. Convinced it was a trap, the only one able to restrain her was Nem.
She stayed with him now, overwhelmed by relief that he was here, alive.
Elijah shrugged on a thick cotton tunic, buttoning the front before snatching a coat from the nearby chair as he said, “Let’s go.”
***
“You have questions, Eliverus. That we expected after revealing our magic in the arena. Speak, if it pleases you. I can see you are upset,” said Jero from where he and Thogan sat on their ornate thrones, twin sets of hazel eyes unwavering. Elijah stalked below the dais, his body tense with anger as he paused and turned towards them. Arii, Nem and Krepth backed him, faces set.
Moonlight filtered down upon them from the window above, tinging his dark hair in silver. Despite the clear, star flecked night outside, Elijah’s face gave the impression of a midnight storm.
“How? How have you remained hidden all these years?”
“’Tis a fair question,” drawled Thogan, picking at food in his teeth as Jero stood up to approach the group.
“We have our late parents to thank for our secrecy,” said Jero, crossing his arms. “They were always very private, preferring my brother and I away from the public eye. When the uprising began, we were pressed into further secrecy. My magic awoke at a younger age than my brother’s, you see. We learnt to hide the telling features such as our ears and canines, and most importantly… the magic simmering in my veins.” Jero tilted his head as he paused at Elijah’s side, nodding at the man’s own pointed ears. “Perhaps our parents had a foresight for the chaos that was to come?”
“The Time of Darkness saw not just the northern court tumble into ruin, but all other courts too,” said Krepth. “Keeping hidden would have kept you alive for only so long. Your people obviously know of your magic, but they do not fear you. How?”
Arms crossed, Thogan spoke from the dais, “Tell us, Spymaster, how much do you truly know about the uprising within the other courts?” Krepth’s brows narrowed, and his mouth opened to reply, but Thogan continued, his voice low and gruff.
“The insurgents waiting in the shadows here in the south were quickly thwarted thanks to a few carefully placed pieces on the chessboard, but it was not without bloodshed. Our parents lost much that day, close advisors, friends, family and...” Thogan paused, hard features turning even harder as Jero lifted his hand, brushing back his cloak to reveal his heavily tattooed arm. “Our parents sacrificed themselves to save our lives. Their blood – their magic is what kept our land from falling under the same malice as our northern brethren.”
Arii’s head tilted to survey Jero’s arm, as did the others, gazes dancing over the bold sweeping spirals – similar runes carved into the stone walls throughout the castle – before pausing on the faces of two people, their eyes life-like upon Jero’s skin. The man’s face, so much like his sons’, had an impressive beard and thick brows, his arms wrapped around the shoulders of a woman whose mouth curved in a soft smile. Her long, sandy hair was draped in waves over one shoulder and fashioned into braids of war close to her skull on the other. Despite her strong face, her eyes remained kind, and Arii saw the resemblance now as she shifted her attention back to the Princes.
“I am sorry you had to discover your magic in the way that you did, Eliverus.” Thogan’s russet eyes shifted to Nem, and then rested on Arii, and she found herself almost fidgeting under his gaze. “We are aware of the unfortunate method of awakening magic in the north, and we know that the Fae are now far and few between. Discovery of magic was once an enchanting, eye-opening experience that filled the host with wonder and light. Most often than not the event would happen at a young age. Sometimes later in life. Now it seems the quickest and most sure-fire way is with pain and soul-altering trauma.”
“But… is that not the only way?” Arii asked, surprised but fiercely curious. She stepped forward, gnawing on her bottom lip as she surveyed the Princes.
“My own magic manifested the first time I laid eyes upon my daughter, Frida,” said Thogan, a small smile lightening his otherwise harsh expression. “When I saw her, it was like a light entered my heart and a fire ignited in my soul. My magic awoke when my heart did, and it was not prompted by suffering.”
Arii swallowed, her mind spinning with the force of a tornado.
Magic could be awoken in other ways, better ways.
She recalled the child and woman who had remained beside Thogan’s perch when they watched Elijah in the arena. The girl bore a mix of features from her parents and had a fierceness in her little eyes that told Arii that she would one day be a warrior like her father. Now, thinking back, if she had not have been so wrapped up with worry for Elijah, she would have taken better notice of the girl’s little pointed Fae ears.
“What of your magic?” Elijah prompted, nodding to Jero.
The man only smiled and said, “A story for another day.”
Gleaning Elijah’s raised brows, Arii could tell that he was just as curious as all of them at the Prince’s words. But the man continued, casting aside their curious thoughts for now.
“We have a firm belief here in the south… A belief that not only applies to my brother and I, but to the whole of Erstonia.” Jero’s head tilted to Elijah, and Arii was unable to look away as a flicker of light dashed across Jero’s pupils. “Magic will always remain, no matter how hard people try to snuff it out. You see, Eliverus, magic is not just within us, but also in the very air we breathe. You can erase a person or being, but you cannot erase their magic completely.”
“It remains when the user has long departed,” said Thogan, leaning back in his chair.
“So, you’re saying that your parents sacrificed themselves to release their magic… into the air?” Krepth’s voice and expression was incredulous, his brows riding high.
What they spoke of was an entirely different sort of magic – powerful magic born of sacrifice. Magic brought forth and born of love, emotions far fiercer than pain or trauma. And by the look in Thogan’s eyes, and the power he and his brother had shown in the arena, she knew it also to be something different to wield. It was not clutched and projected from fingers, like the magic she and her fellow Furies wielded. No, the magic they spoke of was but a fable – unconfirmed and unspoken of, especially where she grew up.
Her mind skipped back to her detainment in Bonemire – the feel of the cool stone floor beneath her cheek, the rancid smell of mould and rot as moonlight bathed her broken form through the tiny, barred window. She recalled the aching, seemingly endless agony after Valdis’ torture, the bruises hiding just beneath her skin, the feeling of black hopelessness riding upon a whirlwind of pain. Slowly, through the haze, she had thought about the people she had met, the people she… cared for.
Despite the iron manacles suppressing her magic, a spark had danced upon her fingertips. It existed when it shouldn’t have. At the time she had thought nothing of it, brushing it off as a trick of the mind. What they spoke of now was self-sacrificial magic. Magic empowered by emotion, empowered by love.
But Arii felt old beliefs resurfacing, as years of manipulation won the fight in her mind.
It was a load of–
“Horseshit” spat Arii, crossing her arms, her expression pinched. “Such magic, it doesn’t exist.”
Elijah remained silent, watching on with an unreadable expression as Jero waved his hand towards her.
“Ah, you are one of those Fury assassins, yes? Your disbelief does not come as a surprise, you have been conditioned to push your emotions aside and shut off your thoughts. The perfect killing machine. A soldier without questions need no answers.”
“Emotions cloud our judgement and distract us from casting magic properly.” Arii turned her gaze to Elijah, her chin lifting as she narrowed her eyes. “Our wayward heir to the throne here is proof of that.” Her purple eyes were vivid in the firelight as her lips curled, showing teeth. She knew she looked every bit the murderous Fury assassin in that moment, and she found she did not care.
Elijah’s returning glare was stony as he growled, “What are you talking about?”
“Those windows above the throne room didn’t stand a chance. When I told you who you really were, your emotions got the better of you – resulting in a whole lot of destruction.”
“Ah, yes! That was the magic surge we felt a week ago. Such power!” Jero remarked, not bothering to hide the awe from his voice. “On the contrary to what you have been taught, Ariiaya, it could be argued that emotions play a part in strengthening the magic within us, too.”
“Hmph.”
“Your reluctance to believe this is to be expected,” he continued, before a slow smile peeked from within his thick beard – a crescent of white teeth and sharp canines. “To see Eliverus’ power unbound and fuelled by love. Now I would pay good coin to see that.” Arii’s cheeks flushed as the Prince gave her a strange, almost knowing look.
It caused her to swiftly glance away.
“Your show in the Permafrost Arena proves that despite many years of suppressing your true nature, you were born to wield magic, Eliverus. You were victorious over our best warriors and obliterated our own frost magic.” Jero slapped a heavy hand upon Elijah’s shoulder. “You have proven yourself and your strength. My brother and I, and the entire south, are by your side for what is to come.”
Elijah nodded, his lips curling with a smile as he locked hands with Jero in a vigorous handshake.
Thogan stepped down from the dais, joining Jero. “Victory in the Permafrost Arena calls for reward, brother.”
“Reward? Your support is reward enough. If anything, you should be angered that I killed your best warriors,” argued Elijah.
“They are no longer our best warriors,” said Thogan simply.
Jero nodded, casting his eye over the group before once again resting on Elijah.
“Allow us to gift you a permanent mark of our allegiance, by magic, by blood, by flesh.”
The flames in the crude steel braziers upon the stone walls flickered in a dance, casting flurrying shadows across the throne room, his words ushering forth an air of magic. The Princes, in unison, placed their hands upon their hearts in gestures of respect.
“From now until the end, the south will kneel before the true King of the North and follow him into battle.”