"I'm sorry, Will," Alia said, dropping her hands to her lap in defeat. "I don't dare heat the ring more than that without risking your skin. I don't think it's pure glass."
I stared maliciously at the transparent ring, the dim light from the golden vein stretching inside the cave passing right through the structure as if nothing was there, the background barely distorted. Only shadow revealed its existence, and the oval stone glinting playfully at me from the peak of its surface.
Plan A had failed. Although Alia seemed to be doing much better after an uninterrupted night's sleep, refreshed and completely unscathed from the horrors of the past day, she hadn't been able to form even a small dent in the flawless design.
Not glass. What else could it be?
"He wasn't always like this, you know," Alia added, sighing as she shifted her weight back to lean on the heels of her hands. "Calix, I mean."
I didn't answer her. I had no particular interest in Tarkan's past. Nothing that could be said would be enough to excuse his sickening behavior, not even if the moon and stars begged me to reconsider.
"He was once a really kind and considerate kid. He even used to follow Caiden and me around like our shadow, always attempting to mimic Caiden's small gestures and manners.
"He used to hate it, believing Calix purposely did it to mock him, but I think Calix just really looked up to his big brother. And all summer long, he would make a big deal out of gathering flowers from Adeena's garden, only to ask a gardener for help assembling a presentable bouquet—one for their mother and one for Eos. He did that daily for years and never became better at picking matching colors or shapes."
Alia laughed softly, her eyes misty with fond memories. I stopped fiddling with the uncompromising ring as I slowly became lost in her absurd tale of an innocent boy whose heart had yet to freeze over.
"He was a real crybaby, too. Whenever Caiden confronted or turned him away, he would fall back and cry until Caiden eventually gave in to Calix's demands. He even cried when Eos—as a baby—once tossed his carefully crafted bouquet out of a window."
I sat motionless, my mind twisting to imagine Tarkan's juvenile face with tears streaming down his cheeks after a heartless rejection from an infant. It was impossible. I couldn't for the life of me imagine that stone-hearted man shedding a single tear, let alone over something as trivial as a few flowers.
Alia's smile suddenly faded, and a different mist of bleakness settled across her eyes. She shifted forward, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them.
"We were all affected when Queen Pangea disappeared without warning, but Calix broke. Eos was too young to understand, and Caiden found peace by burying himself in training and royal duties. Calix had no such distraction.
"I never saw him cry again after that day. He never attempted to act as Caiden's shadow again or set foot in Adeena's garden. He became cold and distant. It wasn't until his power emerged half a year later that he finally found a slippery anchor to cling to, but he never became the same again."
Alia exhaled a flustered breath, brushing a hand through her tangled locks. Arok may have healed her wounds, but blood and dirt still clung to her clothes and hair, the colors mixed into a shade bearing a striking resemblance to the clay soil surrounding us.
"I couldn't even venture a decent guess as to what occupies his thoughts these days," Alia added, spreading the stain on her cheek in a failed attempt to wipe it off. "Naturally, I expected him to have outgrown the innocent child I remember—we all have—but I would never have even thought to consider how far he has strayed from the path of plain civility. I'm no saint, I know that, but I still—"
Alia peered at me, finding my eyes curiously fixed on her. Her lips curled wryly. "I thought you said you weren't interested in his past."
Electricity skittered across my skin, sparking life back to my senses. I fluttered my eyes, clearing my throat as I fumbled to my feet. "I-I'm not," I stuttered, dusting off my pants as if it would make a difference. "I'm not. I just considered it rude to interrupt you."
Alia blurted a resounding snort as she rolled her eyes. "As if that has ever bothered you before. You know, despite my prior assumptions of you, I was actually a little happy to see Calix take such an interest in you. It has been a while since I've seen him do that to anyone but his father. Of course, that was before I knew what a jerk he'd been to you."
Now, it was my time to snort. "You sound like Eos." I believe she said something similar to me during the second trial, then again right after our suggested engagement when I confronted her.
I didn't waste time waiting for Alia's response as I turned to approach the exit. The dusk was rapidly fading, leaving space for the rising sun to soon paint the new morning with the golden colors of dawn. Pangea would be waiting for me.
Without a second thought, I jumped from the edge. I held my breath, feeling the tips of my fingers tingle as I summoned a breeze to surround me. Once I was inches from hitting the ground, I released the power. The air cushion absorbed the forces of my fall, leaving me to land unscathed on my feet.
The descent was never the problem, but I was stuck down here without Piper or my Storm Blades.
I began running toward the clearing between two massive pillars, where Pangea would be waiting for me—at least according to Apollo's announcement when he delivered our dinner last night.
After so long, we were finally here.
Dragons soared through the air above us, bathing in the first glimpses of dawn pouring in from the cracks above; a fallen star, blazing in the form of an eternal flame that I had yet to see; and answers to every important question my heart desired.
I inhaled the air, savoring the fresh morning mist dancing in the breeze. Freedom was just beyond reach. One more mission and I was free. I could feel how the shackles around my ankles were steadily crumbling, the load weighing on my shoulders—
A shadow shifted in my peripheral vision, drawing my attention.
Soft streaks and faded colors of black and blue rippled across muscled contours, the delicate fins swaying with each slow transition as if the fish were alive.
Caiden swayed from one side to the other as if guided by the gentle flow of an indecisive creek. His arms moved in perfect harmony with his body, never off balance.
He was shirtless and barefoot, his scrappy torn pants hanging low on his chiseled waist. The ends of his messy hair clung to his damp neck, drenched and dark in the dim light.
A rush of heat shot through my body, scorching the connections between my nerves. My feet stumbled, and I went down.
I still hadn't recovered entirely from everything yesterday. My brain couldn't send the signals to my muscles fast enough to keep up with the cruel forces of gravity.
My palms took the brunt of the impact, but it wasn't enough to save the rest of me. My chin dug into the ground, the collision sending a wave of pain thundering through my skull.
The collision wasn't enough to bring my body to a full stop. My neck gave under the stress, pressing my chin back. The earth first scraped relentlessly against my nose before my head twisted, and I surfed the last five feet on my chin.
It hurt. It burned. Cursed blood, it burned.
I lifted my head, pushing myself to my elbows to assess the damage. It wasn't too bad. My hands were trembling, and golden scratches covered the major regions of my palms, but I had no deep cuts. Blood didn't spill to the ground from my face, so I assumed the pulsing pain was from the dirt embedded in the superficial wounds.
"Will!"
My heart skipped to my throat, heat spanning across my face. Had Caiden seen me fall?
I pushed myself to my feet, turning on my heel to face the half-naked man sprinting toward me with streaks of blue brushed across his cheeks. I hid my hands behind my back, hoping he hadn't noticed why I lost balance in the first place.
"Are you okay?" he said, panting as he stopped in front of me, hesitant to reach out. "What happened?"
Thank the spirits; he hadn't seen it happen.
I cleared my throat, trying to appear unfazed by Caiden's lack of attire. "I-I fell... Tripped."
Caiden looked at me with skepticism etched into the wrinkles across his arched brow. "Is that so?"
I nodded, keeping my gaze locked on his, careful not to wander further down. "Yup," I said, shifting my weight backward. "I was rushing to meet your mother like I promised yesterday. I had a moment of inattentiveness and lost my balance."
It was almost frightening how easily those words spilled from my tongue. They weren't lies, but my time as an enacting suitor in the Crown Trials had taught me the disturbing art of twisting truths. It wasn't a good look on me, but I couldn't let him know the embarrassing reality.
"So," I said before my betraying face revealed too much, "I should get going. I'm late already, and I can't possibly leave a queen waiting, can I?"
I chuckled nervously as I turned to continue down the path toward the meeting place. However, before I could escape, Caiden grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
"Hold on a minute," he said, chuckling. "I'm glad to see you weren't hurt too bad, but we still have to do something about those bruises. Your palms and face are covered by them. My mother can wait a few minutes more."
I looked down and realized just how bad my palm looked outside the obscured view of my shadow. I didn't know what Queen Pangea's schedule included—Apollo hadn't exactly been forthright about that—but I could imagine these bruises would put me at a great disadvantage regardless of today's practices.
Caiden stared at me as if awaiting my acceptance. I nodded and offered my other hand without looking directly at him, my cheeks burning bright.
I swallowed a sigh of pure relief when Caiden's powers poured over my wounded palms. The burning disappeared; the hurt went away.
Goosebumps rose from the tips of my fingers, racing up my arms and across my chest as he let go to trail his fingers across my jaw. Slowly, he turned my head to face him. A second passed where we stood, gazing into each other's eyes as if nothing else existed before I felt his powers trickle across my cheek and nose.
"Willow," he whispered, brushing his thumb over the newly healed skin. I didn't answer him, too immersed in the endless depths of his eyes. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have meddled."
I blinked, the spell broken. "What?"
"Yesterday," he said, as if that clarified anything, "when Apollo introduced himself to you. I shouldn't have stepped in the way I did and questioned him with such hostility. He had warranted no such treatment."
Caiden paused, his eyes drifting from mine to settle on the ground. He stepped back, brushing a hand through his messy locks. "I guess— I guess what I'm trying to say is—" He sighed. "After everything that happened with my brother... I just—"
A kaleidoscope of vicious butterflies erupted in the pits of my stomach, the fluttering wings making my body tingle as another streak of intense blue traced across his cheeks. My chest tightened, and a hum seemed to linger around my ears.
"Jealous," I mumbled.
"Huh?" Caiden's eyes flickered back to mine as if he hadn't heard me.
I swallowed, clutching my ragged trousers to restrain myself from reaching out to touch his bare skin. "Were you— Were you jealous, Caiden?"
His jaw clenched, and I noticed the tint across his cheeks deepen before he covered it with a hand. He looked away again, the veins stretching under the back of his hands pulsing.
I inhaled and held it. Caiden hadn't been wary of Apollo due to his powers; he had been jealous. A soothing warmth spread from my chest.
"I didn't mean to," he added, still not looking at me. "I am perfectly aware that you can fend for yourself. I know your strength; I was there to witness it bloom, but I— Spirits..."
He paused, quickly glancing at me. His hand dropped from his face, reaching to gently caress my exposed arm as he stepped closer again.
"Willow," he said, carefully brushing a stray hair around the helix of my ear. "You are the most breathtaking person I have ever had the pleasure to meet. I consider myself blessed for having won even a fragment of your heart, and I will follow you beyond the bounds of this universe if that is what it will take to be by your side. You will become an amazing warrior. You will convince that stubborn dragon that your heart is in the right place; of that, I have no doubt."
My heart raced, each thump like a drum beat as he slid his hands onto my cheeks, his fingers tangling with my hair. "But?" I whispered, placing my hands against his naked chest. His heart was racing, too.
Caiden's brows knitted. "I am not without my share of flaws. As much as I recognize your strength, I still fear losing you. I still want to protect you. My mind derailed when Apollo kissed your hand; I could only think of my brother. It's not like me to be jealous—I shouldn't be jealous. I do trust you with all that is my soul, but I—"
"Caiden," I said, a gentle smile curving my lips at his eyes turning to turbulent whirlpools. "Jealousy is a human emotion. It is only natural, but there is a difference between feeling and acting. I have been jealous, too, you know. Women swarmed you, vying for your heart for months while I could do nothing but watch. Next time, talk to me."
His breath warmed my lips as he exhaled. "I will," he finally said.
The mist had been wrong about Caiden. He valued his people and his responsibilities to the crown, but loyalty was a smeared shade of gray. He knew the difference between right and wrong—that rules were not always objective keystones benefiting all.
He wouldn't betray me unless I betrayed him first.
"Will," he whispered, his eyes dropping to my lips. "Can I— Can I kiss you?"
My stomach knotted, my heart fluttering against my ribs. He looked at me like a parched man who had not tasted a drop of water for weeks, but he didn't advance as if awaiting my answer.
He had never asked me like that before, and the gesture admittedly made me a little hot. I nodded hesitantly, letting him guide my chin up for his lips to—
"Are you two done soon?"
Shock rippled through me, and I instinctively pushed away from Caiden. Caiden grunted, annoyed. "What is it, Eos?" he shouted, letting me go.
Eos peered at us from behind a stone fence, her jacket from yesterday missing and her hair sticking to her wrinkled brow.
"You promised to teach me that flowy dance thing you and Uncle Art always perform!"
Caiden sighed, rubbing his neck. "I know, Eos," he shouted back. "I know. I'll be there in a moment."
I chuckled. So, that was what he was doing—teaching Eos like he'd taught me. "Go," I said, wrapping my arms around my body as if hugging myself. I had really wanted that kiss, but the moment had been ruined, just like so many times before. I have to meet your mother anyway."
He angled his head, looking at me with skeptical eyes. "Are you sure?"
I nodded, smiling to reassure him. "I am. You healed whatever injuries I'd sustained, and your sister calls for your company. I'll be fine."
"Spirits, Atlas!" Eos shouted, rolling her eyes with exaggerated gestures. "She fell because she glimpsed your princely ass half-naked, you blind mole! Now, leave her be so she can concentrate on her training with Mother."
My cheeks burned hot when Caiden spun to face me again, his face covered in question marks written in invisible ink.
Little snitch! I thought, my tongue aching to snarl those same words at Eos, but that would only confirm everything. Instead, I stepped back, intertwining my fingers to keep them steady. "I guess that's my cue to get going," I said, tittering like a nervous girl. "See you later."
His lips curled into a smirk that made my knees soft. I turned to run, but Caiden grabbed me again. "Caiden!"
"I won't keep you for long," he said, chuckling as I looked at him in horror, shame likely carved into every feature of my face. "I just needed to warn you before you went."
I blinked, my head spinning. "Warn me?"
He eased his grip but didn't let go entirely. "My mother is an exceptional Iridis who has attained the highest level of mastery of her element. However, her teaching methods are vastly... different from my uncle's. She may not be as patient or considerate as Uncle Art, but she will get you where you need to be."
Patient and considerate were not the words I would've used to describe Art's teachings. The fact that I'd had to visit a healer after almost all of our sessions indicated a lot about his methods. The kind and compassionate queen couldn't possibly be worse than that.
The smirk returned on Caiden's face, his hand briefly squeezing my arm. "Is what Eos said really true? Was that moment of inattentiveness that caused your fall a result of me?"
Heat shot through me, my face likely glowing as bright as the sun. "I'm off!" I exclaimed, wrenching my arm free from his grip. "Good luck with Eos!"
I twisted on my heel and finally began running toward the designated meeting place. How embarrassing to be caught red-handed like that—by his sister, too! What if Queen Pangea had seen us? Would she approve?
"I'll be there once Eos and I finish!" Caiden shouted, but I didn't turn to view him. I kept running, merely waving my hand to make sure he knew I'd heard him.
By the time I finally arrived, my lungs were screaming, and my legs were burning from the outrageous sprint I'd forced myself to endure.
"Good! You're finally here." Apollo approached from the middle of a giant floor caught between five supporting stone pillars, reaching from bottom to ceiling.
The ground felt strangely compliant under my feet as if I stood on a thin mattress. Rings expanded from the middle of the floor, growing larger with each step toward the edge, like the growth rings of an ancient tree.
Apollo was here, but so was Reza.
The entire right side of her head had been shaved, revealing an abstract illustration of a giant grayscale tree with a mountain range in the background. The numerous sprouting roots wound around her neck, spreading across her bare shoulders and down her collarbone.
The other side of her head was covered by thick, loosely braided auburn hair. She leaned against her dragon, whose narrow eyes were like promises of death.
She did not look like a woman anyone should mess with. It made me curious to know what kind of powers the star had given her.
"What was I supposed to have done, Pangea?"
I snapped my head to my left, catching Art and Pangea standing beside one of the pillars, seemingly arguing. Art's face was contorted with frustration, staring at an equally enraged queen.
"Pangea," Apollo shouted, scratching the back of his head. "She's here."
Pangea and Art clamped their mouths shut, whipping their heads toward us. The frown on Pangea's face transformed into a smile when her eyes locked onto mine.
"Willow, my dear," she said, turning her back on Art to approach me. "I am glad to see that the night has treated you well."
I straightened my back a little more as I noticed her eyeing me, assessing me. "I feel a lot better, thank you."
Pangea nodded, still smiling as she knitted her hands behind her back just like Art always did. "You mentioned that you had yet to experience any identifiable changes to your power, correct?"
I nodded, straining to search my mind for any curious occurrences without luck. "I've struggled to teleport without experiencing this unbearable pain in my chest, but aside from my blood, that's about it."
"Was teleportation the power you struggled the most to learn?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then that's not uncommon. Once the bond between Iridis and their dragon manifests, their powers also intertwine. When you attempt to tap into the deepest reservoir of your power, your dragon will feel the pull. If your dragon has not yet accepted your bond, it may try to block you. That will hurt," Pangea explained, glancing at Torrach beside us as if she spoke from experience.
I guess Art hadn't been entirely wrong when he'd theorized reasons for my struggles to teleport. He'd only been off by one factor. It wasn't me resisting the power—it was her.
"Who has been training you to control your power?"
"I did." Art stepped forth before my tongue could form the shape to whistle his name. "She has been my private student for a little more than half a year. She came to me with no prior experience."
Pangea arched her brow and circled back to me. "No prior experience? When did you first emerge?"
I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders. "I— Um... I emerged at the age of eight. But, ehm... I— We didn't report my powers."
Pangea stared at me in disbelief. "So you— You— Alaric did—" She shook her head, raising her hands as if shielding herself. "Spirits... It is not relevant. You have had half a year's worth of training, guided by the most stubborn prince Heliac has yet to witness. I would like to assess those powers, but—"
"I almost became a Templar, you know," Art added, crossing his arms like a moping teenager.
"But," she continued, ignoring Art's interruption, "I would like to assess your physical combat abilities first. Then, we can assess your current powers, train you, and push your abilities to the limits until your star-blessed powers present themselves."
"Apollo and Reza are our strongest warriors. They have trained the vast majority of the others, and I have no doubt they can make a fine warrior out of you eventually, too."
Apollo smiled, but Reza continued to stare bitterly at me.
"I will—"
Art budded in again. "I would like to continue my work with Miss Aldwyn. She is my student, and I would like to see her training through."
Pangea's eye twitched momentarily, but the smile didn't melt off her face. "Very well," she said. "Prince Arthur will continue training you in your element while I occasionally supervise to observe any changes to your powers. Once your star-blessed powers surface, I will take over."
Art didn't look impressed, but he didn't object either. The silence was approval enough.
"Great," Pangea said, clapping her hands. "Reza. Please proceed."
Reza pushed herself to her feet, lazily approaching us. "So, you're the new meat. Apollo tells me that you have a bit of an Earth-related problem." She quickly glanced at my left hand, squinting her eyes to spot the almost invisible ring.
"And I hear you're the person we can blame for almost killing us," I snapped back. I didn't like her attitude.
Reza snorted, cackling as if finding my quick wits amusing. "Listen," she said, crossing her arms. "Pangea tasked me with teaching you the basics of hand-to-hand combat. I need to assess your current skill level, so I'll make you a deal."
I didn't speak. I barely even wavered at her pending suggestion.
She dropped the belt around her waist, her weapons rattling against the ground. "If you can land one hit anywhere on my body, I'll do what I can to help you get rid of that thing. No questions asked."
One hit? That sounded too good to be true.
Perhaps she'd made bad assumptions based on Art's comments about my lack of experience. Maybe she thought I hadn't spent every waking moment outside the Crown Trials practicing my technique.
"One hit?" I asked, needing to confirm her challenge.
Reza nodded, a confident grin revealing a deep dimple on her right cheek. "No weapons, no powers. One proper hit. No questions asked."
I suppressed the overwhelming urge to snort. She had underestimated me—a bad decision. At least now I could have a little taste of vengeance for what she'd done to Alia.
I raised my fists, not hesitating to attack first.