AELIA REVA
The morning air is cooler than the past few days, thick with the smell of damp grass and the faint bite of smoke from the chimneys. My boots press into the wet lawn with each step, dark marks trailing behind me.
The sun hasn't yet broken past the jagged edge of the forest, so the castle's shadow stretches long over the field, spilling dark fingers into the open ground.
He's already there when I arrive. Of course he is. Standing at the far edge of the lawn, where the ground dips slightly, hands folded neatly behind his back. His robes lift faintly in the breeze, black as always but the sunlight catches the silver threads woven through the fabric, so for a heartbeat it looks as though the cloth itself is moving.
"Three days," he says, without turning his head toward me. His voice carries just enough to find me, clear and even over the empty expanse. "You have learned faster than I expected."
I stop a few paces short of him. "Is that your way of saying 'well done'?"
His eyes cut toward me, dark and unreadable. "It is my way of saying you are ready."
Ready to break free form you hopefully.
"Ready for what?"
Instead of answering, he lifts one hand and curls two fingers toward his palm. The air shifts like someone opening a door in a sealed room and a ripple runs through the space beside him.
Delroy appears in the blink of an eye, his posture straight, hands clasped loosely in front of him. He gives me a quick wave and a smile before turning to the leech–I mean the 'lord'.
"Today," He says, his gaze still fixed on me, "we move beyond lessons."
A knot forms low in my stomach. "Meaning?"
"Meaning it is time to test you." He turns fully to face me now, the early light cutting a faint glint into his black eyes. "Delroy. Shadow form."
The boy doesn't hesitate. One step forward and then his outline begins to bleed at the edges, black vapor coiling upward from his shoulders, his hair and skin dissolving into a mass of shifting dark.
The sunlight seems to bend away from him, as though refusing to touch. His features vanish entirely, leaving only the vague suggestion of a face, the faintest glimmer where his eyes might be.
Oh no....no...no....
My throat tightens, memories of the lake sparking in the back of my mind. The air feels heavier now, the temperature dropping just enough for my skin to notice.
The lord watches me. "Do not think of what he is. Think only of what he can do to you, should you falter."
I square my stance, forcing my breath even. "So this is you, being supportive."
"It is I," he says mildly, "ensuring you do not die."
Delroy moves first and fast. His form is little more than a blur, streaking low across the grass before twisting upward toward my left.
I throw my arm up, heat rushing to my palm, and a sharp burst of fire snaps into the air. It misses him by inches, the flames cutting through the mist of his body but catching nothing solid.
Dear goddess save me!
His counterstrike is quick shadow stretching from his form like claws, swiping toward my shoulder. I duck, roll across the damp ground, and push a wave of heat in a wide arc. This time, part of his shoulder catches the edge, and the shadow there hisses, thinning for a moment before re-forming.
"Better," he calls from behind the shadow. "But not enough. You waste your reach."
This old–
I grit my teeth and push forward, striking again, this time with a quick series of small bursts meant to force him back. Delroy shifts and bends like smoke, avoiding most, but one catches his leg, making him stagger. I press in but his form expands suddenly, black fog sweeping out in a circle that knocks me a step back.
He uses the gap, lunging forward, shadows tightening around my wrist. Cold slices into my skin where they touch, stealing my breath.
"Aelia." His voice is sharp now, cutting through the sound of my pulse. "Do not react. Command."
I lock my jaw, shut my eyes for half a breath, and call the heat into my other hand,not a burst this time, but a steady, building glow. The fire hums against my skin until it blazes white-hot, and I slam it into the shadow gripping me.
The cold recoils instantly, retreating into Delroy's main form. He stumbles back, the fog shuddering, before snapping into the shape of a boy again, breath uneven.
A flicker of satisfaction flares in my chest. I let it show. "Guess that's one way to get you to stand still."
Delroy glares but says nothing, wiping his sleeve across his forehead.
"Well enough," the wizard says, already stepping forward. "But your lesson is not yet complete."
I turn toward him, expecting another critique, but his hand lifts...not in approval, but in warning. Then a sudden force slams into me, invisible but sharp enough to knock me three steps back. I catch myself before hitting the ground.
"What the heck!"
"Your second opponent," he says, "is me."
My stomach flips. "Oh, you've got to be–"
But he's already moving.
I throw fire toward him out of instinct, a wide spray meant to force him to defend, but a translucent shield flickers into being around him, the flames breaking harmlessly against it.
He steps through the smoke without pause. "Faster."
I draw in, focusing the heat into a narrow stream, and fling it toward his left side. This time, the shield curves to meet it, but I see the faint ripple in its edge. I push harder, feeding more power into the stream, and the ripple deepens.
His hand flicks, and a sudden pull yanks the fire sideways, tearing it apart mid-air. The displaced heat rushes past my face, stinging my skin.
"You rely on force," he says, voice calm as ever. "Force is nothing without precision."
My reply is a sharp, narrow strike to the ground at his feet, the burst throwing dirt and smoke upward. He shifts, just barely, and I take the opening to send a low arc of flame toward his back.
He twists at the last moment, robes whipping through the air, and the fire passes close enough to singe the edge.
Something like approval flickers in his gaze and then gone.
We circle now, the grass beneath us scorched in uneven patches. My breath comes quicker, heat coiling and uncoiling in my palms. He moves with a composure that makes it infuriatingly hard to read where the next strike will land.
I feint left, then whip a burst toward his right. His shield comes up but I change the flame's path mid-air, twisting it hard toward his exposed wrist. The heat slams into skin, and for the first time, his movement falters. The faint scent of burnt cloth drifts between us.
My eyes widen. "I–"
Delroy's jaw drops. "You burned him."
Oh you are so dead Aelia....
He lowers his arm slowly, looking at the faint red mark on his wrist. Then, instead of anger, a slow, deliberate smile forms.
"At last," he murmurs, almost to himself. Then his gaze lifts to mine, and there's a glint there that makes the back of my neck go cold. "You may yet be worth the trouble."
I need to find a way out of here...fast.
❦︎ To Be Continued ❦︎