Gilded Serpents

Chapter Twenty-Nine: An Oath

How do you know my name?

I tried to speak, but no words came out. I reached for my throat with my lifeless, blackened hand. Suddenly, I was hit with a strange intense heat, and the small underground room began to almost steam from the warmth. My eyes grew foggy, blurring, and the dazzling glow of the fireflies lining the walls began to blink - once, twice, then off. I froze. I was in complete and total darkness once again.

"Mira," the coaxing sweet voice spoke again, "I know everything, little one. Every wish and whim, every daydream and memory, every splendid secret. Everything is here, neatly sorted in front of me."

I shook my head, straining.

Please, I begged, Don't -

"No need to resist, little one," the voice boomed again, rattling me, "Your memories are sweet, fresh, delicious. Yet you hold in your hands, something dangerous, deadly, why?"

My hand clasped tighter around my new weapon, sweat straining my grip.

"I see a helplessness here, a dangerous twinkling of insecurities, alike many in their youth. All of these unknowns, a fresh new world hungers for you, causing your steps to become unsteady. But you must not give in. To not know is not a weakness. It is opportunity. But yet you let little words get to you, eating away. So freely. Feasting. Feasting. And you become reckless. A cornered animal. But do you need more teeth? You have so much power, even without such a tool, Mira."

Right, I nodded, Blood Magic. I know -

"But you don't, little one. Because it is not of Blood Magic I speak, no. Do you know why you were given that precious gift? The ring on your blackened finger? The ring which protected you from such corruption? It is a rare thing, my bud before bloom."

I strained, trying to remember the bogfae's exact words when she gifted it to me.

"It's because of your unique blend of both kindness and curiosity, Mira. A strange thing in this land where most are set in ways of the old. Vasati was able to see it, as soon as you plunged beneath her waters. You are to be protected, for you hold this rare gift. A gift that others will try to use, to manipulate, to mold to their liking. It is a precious thing. But beneath that, there is another flame that continues to grow, and it is something that most concerns me."

My mind began to flash with images, scenes of which I had not seen before, each with such unsettling clarity. My head began to spin.

Before me, clearer than the most vivid dream, I saw a gathering of dirty and tired soldiers, eyes young and wild, gathered around a crumbled body. Above, beating wings and fire streamed across the sky. I heard screams of both pain and anger, clashes of steel, only to be interrupted by invisible commanding shouts in the distance. A young blood mage was crouching over the lifeless body, trying their best to put the drop of blood from their finger into the mouth of their comrade, desperate and shaking. Those around them are pleading, crying, shaking the body, but nothing happened. There wasn't enough magic to bring them back. My ears began to ring.

Stop it, please, I begged.

"But you need to see this little one, for you must understand, magic is finite. And with each swipe of your blade, a life may be lost. And with it, so goes the magic. Magic that could heal, create - gone in a single blow. Will you take it in your lungs, all for yourself?"

Suddenly, I was in a large, warmly-lit hall, wooden tall arched ceilings around me, filled with flowing white light from ceiling high windows. In front of me there are rows and rows of injured people, each trying to get the attention of frantic white-robed healers, wearing the gleaming silver Herculean seal.