Flame in the Palace

16. Self-Awareness

The next morning, Myria swings by her room to change before she meets Emiri in the agreed-upon spot outside Dawnmourne Keep, the small, tucked away mountain precipice with the swirling snow around and the raging seas below. Pulling the fur-lined cloak tighter around her shoulders, she strains her eyes against the predawn darkness outside and finds Emiri already waiting.

She already knows he is not waiting for her. Just as she suspects, his eyes remain on the horizon for the flash of light that signals his home. It makes her more hesitant, knowing his past, including the separation from his family and the brutalization of his home. Instead of approaching him, she waits and watches silently from the door for several minutes as the emerging sun illuminates the gray sky and highlights the metallic sheen of the ocean's surface. The rippling effect flashes against the skyline, offering them a brief glimpse of his homeland. Inys Grutin.

He lingers, unmoving, for a few moments after, and Myria does not have the heart to shatter his peace, waiting for him to turn. When he finally moves, he does not appear surprised to see her.

A realization occurs to her. "When I asked you yesterday why you don't leave the court to see them, it's because you can't, right? You said you are a ward of King Uriel. You're basically a prisoner here until he says otherwise."

Emiri's gaze falls to his hands, a humorless smile illuminating his features. "Capable and cunning," he merely says, echoing his words from the previous day.

The lesson begins, and Myria does not miss the careful space Emiri keeps between them as he paces around her. The idea makes something in chest wilt, but she tries to remain focused on his words and the lesson, her eyes on the ground.

"To some, illusion is the easiest skill for a mage to master. To others, it's the most difficult. I suspect that it will prove troublesome for you just because you acquired the others so naturally," Emiri explains, pacing a wide arc around her. The blanket of snow crunches beneath his boots, leaving packed, muddy ice as his footprints.

She nods at this information. "Should I approach this differently from conjuring? I'm still a little confused about how illusions are different."

"The illusion should be inherently tied to your magic. Once the connection to your magic ends, so will the illusion. Start with something small, maybe a peach."

The mention of the fruit distracts her momentarily as she is transported to the midnight glen with the minotaur. Brief images flash through her mind, holding onto Emiri's hand, the minotaur kneeling before the prince, kissing Leor. She shakes her head to clear these intrusive thoughts, hoping Emiri does not notice how her cheeks flush suddenly. Her grip tightens around her newly-recharged moon crystal—for Emiri was very specific about using only moon magic—and she concentrates on her assigned task.

A small orb shimmers to life in her hand, taking on the warm colors of a peach. The energy from the crystal feels as though it wavers beneath her mental hold, as if her connection is fragile. The fingers on her outstretched hands reflexively twitch around the ghostly image, causing it to evaporate entirely.

She releases an impatient breath, rolling her shoulders in slow circles.

"An impressive first try," Emiri remarks.

She braves a glance, recognizing how he has not drawn any closer to inspect her work, and frowns. She wants to ask him how he can see from so far away, but she stifles the urge. "The moon energy feels differently," she complains instead. "Even when I use it for healing, it's not like this. It's like trying to hold onto water running through my fingers."

Emiri considers this, running his foot back and forth on the hard-packed trail his path has created. "Perhaps you're trying to use it like sunlight by making something tangible. Creating illusions should be very much like lying, an attempt to trick or deceive the senses."