After an excruciatingly painful experience, Mageia finds out she is not just the thief with purple eyes, but she is the Fairest of Valeera. A demi-god position that sets her above every royal and the gods. But she's not ready to accept it. The only...
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She believed she made the right decision. Now she only hoped Gris would understand and won't be upset with her and return to the palace. A few times her doubt forced her to stop inside the dark tunnels of Midlaan and go back. But she wanted to see her family. She missed them so much. Her heart ached for a chance to hug every child and Elder teen, and of course Dean.
Oh Dean. I'm so sorry.
By now they had to have heard the news about her resurrection. They were probably confused, worried, and still in grief. She repositioned the bag of pastries and sweets Trekon had given her across her torso and pushed onward. The wet pungent odor of the connected sewers to the tunnels pressed her to move faster.
Then a dangerous roar of thunder made the ceiling tremble.
What was that?
She stared up into the daylight showering down from a grate. The distant sound of rioters and horses galloping came to a sudden silence.
Mageia gasped and leaned against a stone wall cringing. Her magic had awakened again. It gushed madly through her limbs like an angry tidal wave. But she wasn't upset or at least she didn't think she was. Confused mainly. A wave of exhaustion overcame the strength in her knees, and she slid to the floor.
Magic is the spirit of Hamino. It is unbiased and pure, Dawnis' words popped into her head.It knows hearts more than any god or an Ordained could know. But it is easy to obtain and too addictive to let go. For a Fairests, you are born with it and can never let it go until the next Fairest.
"I don't want this," she muttered, fighting to hold back tears.
The magic mixed into her emotions and began to prick at her skin. Then the dimmed darkness gradually came to life in bright twinkles of purple. Almost like a hundred stars had descended to surround her. Mageia shook her head, panicked. She swapped at the magic only for it to swarm together and follow the motions of her arms and hands.
Fairest.
"No," she shouted in frustration.
She jumped to her feet and ran the familiar route to the exit. She didn't stop to look back or see if the magic followed. She climbed up the abandoned well and into the Old Forest. The daylight blinded her for a second, but not long enough to reveal the magic trail. With a mind of its own, the trail gathered and reentered her body all at once, knocking the air from her lungs.
Mageia coughed and crashed against a tree as the forest spun in circles. Nausea struck her gut. She gagged and vomited bile feeling ungodly sick. Dropping into the grass, she finally caught her breath.
"Hamino no," she said to the Old God as if he still existed to hear her complain. "Why me? I don't want this."
An ear-shattering screech pierced through her cry, icing her blood with fear. The ground shook beneath her hands as a craver dropped before her. The stench of death wafted into her face. The bat-like creature as big as three combined men opened its long-pointed beak and screeched. Mageia trembled and covered her ears. Her magic sprung alive prepared to defend.
