They're idiots. All of them. All fourteen brains put together and they still can't see the obvious answer. It's infuriating.
I want to scream and yell at them, but that'd only give me away. I want to freeze time and draw a big, fat arrow on the ground and write "that way you fucking imbeciles,' but Willa has her orders, and I'm supposed to follow them and blah blah blah...Not to mention that they'd likely dismiss it after an agonizing hour of me squatting in the bush and trying not to jump off the cliff, while they argue about whether it was a sign or a prank.
I have two hours until my shift ends, and having to follow them over the cliff's terrain is a pain in the ass. There was a time when I would come to these cliffs and look westward as if I could see all the way to Thralia. I would've given anything to travel and see the world rather than be stuck under that stupid mountain. Now, I find it ironic how I am now walking the coastline, the salt wind tangling my hair and the sound of seabirds singing above, and all I want is my four stone-wall bedroom that has crickets constantly talking day and night.
Not being able to do something is annoying, but I wasn't entirely mad that I couldn't say anything as I watched them all tumble down a hill. They were too busy moping, that they didn't realize they started walking on a mudslide until one of the blondes was already halfway down the hill. I laughed for a good ten minutes, replaying their faces and loud curses as they tried to hold onto one another for support only to end up plummeting downwards themselves. Fourteen grown men now make camp along the cliffs, every single inch of them caked in slowly drying mud. I don't think any decent inn will take them with the way they smell once they reach the Adaerian capital.
If they wake early and keep up their pace, they should reach Cadorelin by nightfall. And now I want to jump off the cliff again.
Cadorelin. Please. As if Xaxias would ever go to a bustling city full of ritualistic and peppy people who have no regard for personal boundaries, or a care in the world for what the words 'go away' mean. It's a gorgeous place and full of – what you could say – kind people, but I personally dislike everything but the scenery. I don't trust people who don't show some kind of dark side to them. Call me traumatized, but if you're always smiling and always so kind and gentle and the purest at heart, then you're definitely not human. Or at least not a sober one.
The eldest two of the group leave to fetch their dinner, leaving everyone else to try and find wood. Darius walks off, the assassin following at a respectable distance. Every night since they've left the Dearg Forest, Darius and the assassin have trained. They walk far enough that's safe for everyone else in case the elements get the better of him, but close enough for them or the others to reach each other in case something happens. Thanks to me and my sisters, anything or anyone who even thought about it has been misted elsewhere.
I know the assassin's name is Arthur, but something about that name doesn't sound right. Clarice isn't an entirely believable name either, but it makes more sense than a grey-eyed male who looks nothing like an Arthur. When Dawn was still in Thralia, she talked all the time about what she wanted her children to be named, especially after she and Kerrigan were married and crowned. None of her long listings included Clarice or Arthur. Not even as one of the two middle names all Thralians carry.
A tradition since Thralia's establishment. To give your child three names prior to their surname, each carrying a meaning meant to establish either the child's destiny, personality, or a trait their parents wished for them to always carry. Most of us Thralians spend our whole lives trying to live up to our names. Rohana means One who travels a higher path. Ashina, one of two of my middle names, stands for she-wolf. An animal of loyalty and intelligence. My third name, Avyana, means strong, powerful, and beautiful. All names my mother chose because my father couldn't care what I was called. He used to tell me how he never cared because he was just happy to have me. His first and only child. Though I think he compromised with my mother seeing as his surname became my own. Nicoletti. The name of a nobleman who grew up on scraps and refused to take no for an answer. He always inspired me more than my name's meaning did, but for the sake of both my parents, I worked hard to fulfill what name they bestowed upon me. Sometimes I think back and wonder if I fulfilled it a little too much in some areas.
Arthur tosses two knives to Darius who catches them with ease, then takes his black and orange handled blades out. I'm still jealous of their color and utter beauty and precision of them. I heard him mention that he got them from a man in Serac, but when I went searching, I couldn't find him. Not even Tanith could find his thoughts when I asked her about it.
Arthur is well-trained, only pulling his punches when it's aimed to kill. I can find very few missteps when he moves, and I try imagining who would come out of a sparring ring if he and Nilsa went one-on-one. That'd be a show I'd pay to watch, and I don't like paying for anything. Especially overpriced tonics and salves. I could buy every ingredient they list for less than half a tin of the already made medicine. Only blubbering idiots will pay them the four silver coins.
Darius, on the other hand, he's got many lessons to learn, but he's improving quickly and the assassin is a good teacher. The others often join them, splitting into two or three teams and fighting until someone calls time. It lasts an hour at least, two most days.
I watch today from a nearby tree as their blades clash and separate, and then clash once more. There's a shield around them, one made entirely of still wind that lacks oxygen. Kathika tried getting through it to see if it was one made through experience, or one unknowingly put up. Willa misted into my chambers seconds later, yelling at me to get there before she died. I found her on her knees, face turning purple and eyes wide with fear. I couldn't get to her without risking my own safety, so I may or may not have blown up something in Mave to draw Darius and the others away.
The Prince doesn't know that he's constantly holding a shield around him and his companions, and though it makes our job easier not having to constantly worry about someone sneaking up on them. If someone did manage to do so, we wouldn't be able to do much aside from taking a deep breath and running. I throw a few rocks at it here and there to see if he senses something breaking through, but he only gets the slightest of eye twitches. If he was smart, he wouldn't dismiss it. I found out the hard way what ignoring a simple tic could cost you. The evidence is scarred on my shoulder. I've never worn a shirt that exposes the marred skin since. I'd rather not have to explain how I let pleasure overcrowd my judgment. The only reason it's a scar and not new untouched skin Willa could've easily healed is because I need the reminder of what happens when I let my guard down.
Dusk soon nears, and I stifle a yawn to keep myself awake. If I'm being honest, staying under the mountain has made me a sleeping hog – or an old hag who goes to sleep early and wakes at dawn for Gods knows what. If the sun's up, then I'm up. If the moon's out, then I'm out. The crickets I complained about earlier, have now become my personal orchestra that puts me to sleep.
Oh, Gods. I'm becoming Willa.
For Saint's sake, I need to get out from under that Gods damned mountain, and soon.
Bored, I hop from the short tree and walk up the hill behind it. My own shields are up, keeping anyone from seeing or harming me. I could let it down since Willa stitched wards into the inside of my coat, but it's only another protection ward, which means they'd be able to see me as I follow them like a stalker. Dee said we couldn't have contact with them, she never said I couldn't freeze time, take their cloaks, and stitch the same wards into them so that they have an extra layer of protection too. Of course, that was cycles ago, and they haven't found the sloppy mess on the bottom corner since.
I'm not the best stitcher in the world.
Off in the distance, I can faintly see the beginning lights of the city. There's not much between here and it aside from hills and a flower field that attracts swarms of bees in the spring and mosquitoes in the summer. Everything beautiful comes with a cost, it's how this world was built. I've been alive for a hundred and thirty-two years, and in that near century and a half, I've managed to always find a fault in everything. I don't know why I do it, but I always look for someone or something's imperfection upon seeing them or it for the first time.
My sisters like to watch my eyes narrow and stir when I do it, so they go out of their way to find something I've never seen and bring it to me. Other times, they think it a challenge and often dare me to find the one thing wrong with something. I list at least five every time. It's both a skill I'm proud of and one I wish I never had.
One person could look at the same landscape I'm seeing now and only see a peaceful and thriving land beneath winter's hands. I, however, see the infertile soil that smells like cow dung, dark clouds blowing right for us that promise rainfall in a few hours, and a city in the distance that has no hope to offer the men behind me. I told you, I'm a downright party-
Something smacks into my chest, stealing all the air from my lungs. No object was flung at me nor first thrown. What hit me was purely magical.
What in heathens was that?
I spin around, already sprinting back toward where the clashing of metal stopped even though my breathing is still trying to recover. I can't explain it, but something just...pierced me. Not any weapon of a sort, but of raw and brutal power. I've only felt the sting as harrowing as that once, and that ended with a life being taken.
I skitter to a stop, almost losing my balance as I grip the tree to keep myself from crashing right into Darius's shield. He's bent over on his knees and I instantly scan him but find no injuries to be the cause. The assassin's hovering over him, the other ten already sprinting towards them, weapons out. None of them seem to know where the sudden threat came from and seeing as none of them look like they felt the pulse, then that means that it was a power surge. Someone is playing with fire and considering that the Mater Natura is nowhere near physically adequate to hold such force, then it means that it had to be Xaxias and his crew of misfits.
Scowling, I start searching the surrounding landscape for any hint of them. They tend to stick around and watch their cruel work make someone, or something, crumble. I wouldn't be surprised if I saw a cloaked figure with a barely visible mischievous smile, standing on a hill like the creeps that they are. Sadly, there's no sign of them, which means that he must've done something big, or something else just woke up.
My gaze drifts back to the Prince, and I find him staring directly at me, eyes wide. I spin around, my arms lifting in preparation to freeze time, but no one's there. Which means...fuck. I scramble to reinforce my shields but they're still intact. He can't see me if they're holding strong, but he is. I keep building layer after layer, waiting until he looks away and shakes his head as if it was just his mind playing a trick. He doesn't.
Double fuck.
He's still staring, and before anyone else can look over, I pull up the misting power and take one look around to make sure no one's nearby, before getting the hell out.
I end up misting into the hall that leads to Willa's office. Why I chose here and not my rooms, I don't know, but right now I'm not entirely sure what to do.
How could he possibly see through my shields? I did as I was taught. Layer after layer of reinforcing your shield, holding strong even when you feel weak. But I'm not weak. I can go for two days with a fully intact shield without eating, sleeping, drinking, or traveling. I've been trained time and time again to combat the issues of a failing shield, and never has it once failed me before. Which means that it had to do something with whatever pulsed through me and the Prince.
I start pacing, running every scenario into my mind for debate.
It wasn't one of my sisters' doings, I'd know if it was them. It definitely wasn't Willa, because if it was then it would've been a lot more packed with a punch. Especially with Xaxias currently holding the Mater Natura. If it was Xaxias, then it would've been a more accurate hit. He's never one to just lazily let his power loose. He hates not having as much of it to himself as possible. It wasn't like anything I recognize, but the pit in my stomach says it was nothing good.
I need to get back to the Pater. Leaving him alone for the breaks in between shifts is dangerous, and the few minutes that I've been leaning bouncing from wall to wall catching my breath, even more so. They can hold their own for a good five minutes – maybe ten – against Xaxias and his close circle and demons, but there's no guarantee that someone won't just knock them out and throw them over the cliffs. If I have to stay further away from them than usual – and less to my liking – then so be it, I just can't leave them alone during my shift.
I start to mist back when something grips my power by its neck, causing me to stay in the halls. Coughing, I find Willa's piercing gaze looking at me and instantly get another bad feeling.
"Rohana Ashina Avyanna Nicoletti, you are going to tell me – with complete honesty – as to why the Pater Princeps would be letting his power surge for all to feel."
"Wait – it wasn't Darius. He was affected by it."
Her wrathful expression doesn't falter once. "Then who, in the name of all heathens, was it?"
"Willa, perhaps we should take this inside your office." I turn to Nisla, finding her standing next to a very disturbed looking Tanith standing at her shoulder. Her hair stands every which way, her cloak askew, and fighting leathers clinging to dark branches and twigs.
Without another word, Willa walks to her office, the rest of us trailing along silently.
"What in ten hells happened?" I demand once we're all inside and the door's closed and sealed from sound by Willa to ensure no nosey Thralians somehow find their ears leaning in.
"Well..." Tanith glances around the room, nervously fidgeting with her hands in front of her. It's not like Tanith to be nervous, but I've learned to listen closely when she is.. "You see...they-they were playing and um...oh screw it."
Her eyes lock onto the ground, and for a second I think that she's not going to answer, but then I catch the silver ring around her pupil begin to glow and let my shield down long enough for her to get through. The silver seeps into the dark brown of her eyes and we all go diving into it.
I'm sitting high in a tree, looking down at the cabin in the Dearg Forest. I'm on shift for watching everyone here, making sure none of them die or do something unnaturally stupid.
Everyone here is depressed. It's...depressing. The only ones who bear smiles are the two run-amuck children, and their squeals and constant energy are getting quite annoying. At least they're not the only ones outside today. Everyone's here, though they didn't really have a choice with the healer forcing them all out the front door. I like her. She seems like a real badass.
They're playing some sort of game. I wasn't close enough to hear what it was, but I've gotten the gist of it by watching them play. The redhead is currently chasing one of the rather handsome assassins around, though he seems to be toying with her by setting a rather slow pace. I'm not one to normally think such things, but I wouldn't mind if he went toying with me. It's been a good three months since I've been down to Histra, and I'm in desperate need of a little distraction.
Motion catches my eye, and I find the young girl, Roseia, making a break for the can they set up in front of the house. The redhead hasn't tagged anyone, so no one is in need of being set free from their fake prison, but that doesn't stop Roseia from kicking the can with all her might. She instantly takes off back in the direction she originally came from, the redhead pivoting to follow her. They disappear into the woods, and though the handsome assassin is now alone for the taking, Dee told us not to interact with anyone – fun sponge, - and my responsibility is making sure neither of the girls goes off jumping into a demon's nest.
Sighing, I double-check my shields and then take off after them.
They run for a rather long time, as the clearing where my King lost his wits almost a mile and a half out. I remember that day. Not a fan of what his wind did to my hair. It took hours to detangle.
This site has felt off ever since he did have his outburst. The rest of the forest doesn't feel like this, and it's only this specific clearing where the ground is as black as the dead of night. Being here instantly has my head feeling like someone's squeezing it. Vanya was the first to realize the abnormality here. Her nose was bleeding, her skin pale as the moon, and the crests on her fingernails turned blue. Willa checked it out and said that something of a sliver of dark power withers here. I can't stay here much longer before I end up like Vanya, which means I need to get these two out of here.
The red-head starts walking back to where Roseia sits on a rock. She's walking slowly, likely tired from the amount of running she just did. Based on watching her for the past few hours, I'd say this is the most that she's ever run. And yet, she still has a rather perfect figure. I'd say I was jealous, but the fast metabolism of my immortal body does all the work for me. That and the training that Rohana has us go through every night. I rather like fighting with my sisters, it gives me a release and allows my mind to focus on anything but the thoughts of others.
I don't mind being about to get into everyone's mind or alter their dreams. It just gets annoying when someone is thinking so loudly and I can do nothing aside from mist across the continent to avoid hearing their every unspoken word.
I really need to get out of this literal hell hole. I'm faintly certain my vision is going haywire, as Roseia looks as if she's holding...sunlight. It's impossible considering that there's no palpable seam of magic in the air, but then again, she's the one-
Oh shit.
Before I can leap for both of their minds and get them out of there, light explodes, blinding me from seeing what's happening as I'm thrown backward and flying through the air. I should stay, forget about the pain that has my back barking as I crash through the trees, and stay, but whatever is pushing against my chest is making it hard to breathe. So I mist out before I can hit the ground.
My shields come back up, Vanya's memories slipping out before I can trap her inside my own head. It's a neat little trick that she has, the ability to link all of our minds and pass along thoughts and memories. It makes it easier to communicate whenever we're apart or in the mists of a fight. It's also an easy way for her to release a damper on her power. Helpful, and in this case, I'm entirely grateful for it.
"What in heathens was that?" Nisla asks, taking a seat in one of the chairs Willa keeps on the other side of her desk. I take the other one, resting my head in my hands.
"I don't know," Vanya answers. Her brow forms a deep downward arrow as she tries to figure it out, likely recalling every book she's ever read to try and remember a mention of something like this.
"I thought that she was supposed to have nothing of great influence," I say looking at Willa.
"Forget that," Kathika snaps. "What we should be worried about is what it was. The strength of a gift like that means nothing if it's near useless."
Mak nods. "She's right."
"Energy." We all turn to Inna, her head shaking in a way that tells me she wants to be in denial. Serephina can siphon one's power from them and easily identify it once she's near it or felt it firsthand. "With the way it felt, the amount of strength that it gave, and the way that it pulsed so far so quickly...Roseia has the power of controlling energy. With that kind of power being at that strength..."
"She could drain someone's life force by simply touching them," I finish.
"Or give someone the ability to double their own power force – quadruple it or maybe more if they drain her dry," Mak adds.
"That'd kill her."
"I wasn't saying we should do it, Inna, only that if someone with a certain hunger for eternal power got a hold of her-"
"He wouldn't need an army to take whatever he wished." Willa's face is paler than I've ever seen it. She's the one person aside from the elementals who could face Xaxias and not die, but quadruple his power...well, then we'll all find ourselves staring into the darkness.
"Great," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger. "Another thing to add to our list of why today was shitty."
"Wait." Shit. That wasn't supposed to come out of my mouth. "There's a list?"
I open my mouth to plead my case to Willa, only nothing comes out and I find myself exposing my hands as nine pairs of eyes hone in on me. It's not often that my sisters look at me as prey, but I always find myself understanding why the Thralian teenagers fear us so much.
"What else is on that list Ro?"
"Well..."
Gods keep me from getting my head bashed in.