Golden Embrace

by Clara Hartley

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  Which was why she could finally accept Diovan. Aryana understood that rules were important to keep things in order, but her sister's resolution to hold to them against all costs was wrong. This time, Aryana needed to break one of the water witches' most sacred laws, using black magic. Nervousness crawled underneath her skin. What would touching the dark art do to her? Would it drive her mad, as it had done so many other witches? The image of Yolanda's blubbering appeared strongly in Aryana's recollection.

  Joakim returned by nightfall. His dragon form was silhouetted by the moonlight when he re-entered the cave. He shifted back, put on his clothes, and passed her his harvest, which was more than she needed.

  "Do it," he said. "I have what you need."

  "Now?"

  "Is there any reason to wait?"

  "To mentally prepare, test some things…"

  "Don't dally." He kicked a hog toward her. It squealed.

  Her stomach was turning. She wasn't ready for this. Regardless, she summoned her courage and repeated the spell in her mind. She rubbed her hands together before spreading them out. "Es rea misreagou." Could she even have enough control to only take a little of Joakim's soul? "Kisla misreagou." The power surged into her, vile and filling her nostrils with the scent of rotting flesh. She stopped her harvesting as soon as she could. She looked up, cursing in pain, and saw the same agony in Joakim's eyes.

  "Summon her."

  Biting back the spike of pain hitting her chest, she muttered more harvesting spells to steal the souls of the animals. They glowed from the critters in a natural blue, before intermingling with the darkness in her hands and turning into a grotesque black.

  As soon as she felt like she had enough power, she whispered, "Invitia res monrogles cas vidaslas." She strode to Joakim and took his hand. Her voice was strained when she said, "Think of her—try to call for her, through me." The pain was still making it hard for her to talk.

  Joakim shut his eyes tightly. Beads of sweat dotted his temples. Aryana felt his call through her. Her soul formed a bridge into the spiritual realm, and there, she saw wandering ghosts, foggy images that ambled around aimlessly. One that had a glow of violet in her eyes neared and embraced her. Aryana sensed a foreign entity mingling with her soul, joining hers.

  And then she was back in the cave and speaking, but not with her own voice. "Joakim," the entity said. The voice echoed with Aryana's own, layering.

  "Wesryn?" Joakim's brow creased. Aryana wondered what he was seeing. "It's you, isn't it?"

  "We met in the meadows, when we had just finished a raid. You wanted to steal our spoils, and then changed your mind when you saw me." The voice sounded sweet, though the echo of Aryana's own gave it a strange, ethereal quality.

  "Yes." Joakim shook. "Yes, that's what happened. It really is you." He pulled both Aryana and Wesryn in his arms. Aryana didn't know how to feel, because the intrusive soul mingled with her emotions and blurred her feelings.

  "You have to stop," Wesryn said. "I can't see you like this."

  "Like what?"

  "A tyrant. Hurting our child, and others. I… I can't watch you like this, Joakim. I can't love you like I did the man you once were."

  "You don't mean that…"

  "You've become a horrible person."

  "Wesryn, please…"

  "I can't find peace in the afterlife. Not with what you've done. Somehow, I think it's my fault."

  "No, it isn't. It was me. I just couldn't stand to lose you."

  "You did. Because you're not simply a shadow of what you once were. You morphed and turned into a monster who revels in the worst parts of himself."

  Joakim pulled back. His face contorted with despair. "I didn't mean to."

  "Yes you did. You could've been a better man, but you cast out our son, tortured him, and didn't give him the love I wanted to."

  "I couldn't think straight, Wesryn, not without you around. I loved you so much that after you died, I couldn't be the same man."

  "You made me regret dying… as silly as that sounds. I blame myself for all the deaths my passing caused."

  Joakim took Aryana's—Wesryn's—hand in his. "It was me. I couldn't be a good man, and that lies entirely on my shoulders."

  "You pain me, Joakim. I have to go."

  "No, stay. Please."

  "I'm sorry, Joakim."

  The spell ran out. Aryana felt Wesryn's presence pulling from her. She was herself again, her soul alone in her own body. She blinked, seeing Joakim too close to her. She tugged her hand away, and the Red Beast let her. He lowered his gaze to the ground. "That… that couldn't have been Wesryn. She wouldn't have talked to me like that."

  "I'm sorry." Aryana reached up, wanting to place a hand on his shoulder to provide comfort. She couldn't imagine what he was going through, being rejected by the woman who had turned him to what he was, even after going through such lengths to get her back. Sacrificing his own soul, even.

  Joakim caught Aryana's wrist. He twisted it. A spike of pain shot to her shoulder. She yelped.

  "That wasn't her." Joakim growled. "You tricked me. With your witch magic. You intended to break me."

  "That was the spell! I didn't do anything of the sort."

  Aryana wasn't sure what was happening. Within moments, she was lifted up and crashed against the cavern walls. A crack sounded, and a numbing sensation hit her leg. She wheezed and glanced at Joakim, who was shifting into a dragon.

  Her chest lurched. This wasn't going the way she had planned. She'd hoped that Joakim would be somewhat changed by meeting his wife, but the encounter had only turned things for the worse.

  She still had a lot of souls left. As the Red Beast lunged at her, she whispered a harvesting spell, summoning the remainder of all the critters Joakim had provided. She had enough for one large ice spell. Sufficient to put an end to the Red Beast, once and for all.

  When Joakim finished transforming, his form was off. He wasn't the majestic beast he once was, but an amalgamation of body parts that didn't fit right together. His wings had holes in them and were bent in strange directions. His snout was too short, pressed flatly against his face, and dripping with saliva, which made Aryana want to gag. The black magic had altered his soul negatively.

  Aryana heard his voice, with an ethereal quality, lingering in her mind, but it seeped away as soon as it came. Perhaps it was the effects of being thrown against a wall mucking with her thoughts.

  Joakim lunged at her. Aryana steeled herself. "Glaciliaca Ingnitio!" she shouted, almost slamming the air out of her lungs. It happened too quickly. An icicle the size of a large boulder shot from her hands. The spell didn't usually summon an icicle this large, but maybe the lingering effects of black magic had altered it.

  It speared toward Joakim and pierced the dragon's chest. The icicle lodged itself into the cavern wall, nailing the Red Beast to it. Joakim struggled against the large column holding him down for a long, excruciating moment. He thrashed about and gnashed his teeth, flinging saliva and blood across the cavern floor, before falling limp.

  Aryana panted. She picked herself up and walked toward the red corpse to inspect it. It was over. She'd come out alive, much to her surprise.

  Then, abruptly, Joakim's eyes shot open.

  She faltered and had no time to react as the spiny tail of Joakim swung at her.

  Chapter 18

  Aryana woke up feeling a familiar warmth.

  She was in a tent, covered by blankets, Diovan next to her. He was asleep. When he wasn't yapping and trying to infuriate people with his teasing, he almost looked innocent. She took a moment to study his angelic features before fully waking.

  She sat up, groaning. The area where her neck connected to her head throbbed. She reached behind and stroked it, but the agonizing ache wouldn't stop.

  He woke as she did, and shot up into a seating position. "I didn't do it!"

  "Didn't do what
?" She laughed, despite the pain, watching his confused face.

  "I didn't steal the… Huh, I can't remember what I stole. Aryana? You're awake? How are you feeling? Oh, goddess bless us."

  She groaned softly and kneaded the bridge of her nose. "I've been better." What had happened? Her memory was still a haze. Was Joakim still alive?

  What Diovan did next took her by surprise. He pulled her into a tight embrace, which was nearly suffocating, then kissed her hard. She sank deep into his warmth, and butterflies fluttered from her stomach through her chest. Diovan placed his forehead on hers. He smelled like the winds and spice. "Don't do stupid things like that again. You have no idea what kind of hell I went through when worrying about you." He drew back and looked at her with his blue eyes.

  She had half a mind to argue about needing to be independent and not left behind, but when she saw his tired, bloodshot eyes, she kept those words unspoken. "Is the Red Beast—"

  "Joakim is dead."

  "I killed him," she said, still remembering how awful that was.

  "Yes, you killed him. I much rather would have done it myself."

  "Your father… he missed your mother."

  "I know."

  "I summoned Wesryn for him."

  "We saw."

  "Diovan, I'm sorry about your parents." She ran her forefinger and thumb down a lock of his hair, before sliding it behind his ear.

  He shrugged. "I never met my mother. She passed away in childbirth, so I didn't get a chance to." He brushed the side of Aryana's face. "And my father was an ass, through and through."

  "Her soul intermingled with mine briefly. Wesryn was a water witch, wasn't she? I sensed that from her. Diovan, can you control magic?"

  He scrunched up his nose. "A little, I suppose. I don't like it much. Too much memorization of spells."

  "I think that's the fun part."

  "That's because you're strange."

  She furrowed her brow in mock anger. He chuckled and kissed her again. She bit his lower lip.

  "Ouch." He flinched. "What was that for?"

  "For calling me strange. Also, sometimes I want to eat you. Knowing you have magic makes you so much more tantalizing to me."

  He grinned. "Huh, I should start learning magic, shouldn't I?"

  "You should."

  "But don't do that again." He rubbed his mouth, faking pain with an exaggerated scowl. "I'm the dragon in this relationship. I ought to be doing the eating." He leaned in until his nose nuzzled hers.

  It felt like such a long time since they've had a proper moment together, with all the chaos and Enid's attempts at keeping them apart.

  Leiana, the witch who had guarded Aryana when Enid tried to hold her captive, entered the tent. She didn't even bother to warn them of her entrance.

  Diovan spun his head around. "Don't you witches understand privacy?" Annoyance fizzled from him.

  Aryana was peeved at the intrusion, too. Her body had begun lusting for him, and she wanted a moment alone.

  "The high seeker wishes to hold a trial," Leiana said.

  "A trial?" Aryana said. "For what?"

  "While monitoring you, she saw your use of dark magic. Second seeker, is this true?"

  She swallowed. She knew the punishment for trying to summon souls from sentient life was death or life imprisonment. The magic was too volatile and foreign to be used. The harsh consequences were enacted as deterrence, and to prevent witches from overstepping their boundaries in their quest for power. "It was a necessity, and I believe it was in the interest of the clan… how else would I have convinced the Red Beast to send me souls, or let me live?"

  Leiana flashed an apologetic expression. "It is what many of us have explained to her."

  "But she insists?" What did Enid have up her sleeve? Aryana assumed her sister would have her best interests in mind. Enid should be the last person calling for a trial.

  Then again, Enid was always a disciplinarian.

  "She mentioned how a good doesn't negate a wrong," Leiana said.

  Aryana knew Enid was headstrong and traditional to a fault, but didn't think her sister's inflexibilities were so merciless. Enid tried to take care of the tribe, and often took a motherly role. If exceptions were called for, they were provided… sometimes.

  Diovan growled at Leiana. "She's in no condition to stand trial."

  "It's all right," Aryana said. "There's no need to make a fuss about it."

  "Lie down, Aryana," he said, cradling her as if she were fine pottery.

  "No. I've made myself clear. I don't want you telling me what to do."

  Would he try to ignore her will and take away her freedom of choice again? That would truly make her question their compatibility.

  Diovan slouched back into the bed and pulled his face into a pout. "Do what you want. But if you feel lightheaded, promise me to lie down again. I don't care if the other witches try and stop you from leaving. I'll make sure you get your rest."

  "And how do you suppose you'd do that?"

  "I would burn down cities just to see you properly rested."

  Leiana shot Diovan a nervous glance. Then she turned her attention back to Aryana. "Enid and her advisers are waiting around the campfire. Most of the tribe has gathered for the hearing."

  Aryana pushed herself up. Her ears rang. The chill left behind by the dark magic had started to fade, but it still made her shiver. She remembered Joakim's voice echoing in her head after she harvested his soul, but it was gone now.

  "Careful," Diovan said, hovering his hands around her as if he were handling a child.

  "No need to baby me," she said. "I'm well enough."

  Diovan watched her as they made their way to the trial. The encampment was barely recognizable. Charred material lay everywhere in piles, and were even duller after being coated by the rain.

  Diovan lurked warily behind her. He seemed ready to jump at any accident she might have.

  "You don't have to be this worried, you know. I'm feeling better already."

  "I'm not acting that worried. You should have seen me when Joakim took you. Your witches did not like me."

  "Something tells me I'd rather not."

  She felt touched by knowing how much Diovan cared. They mostly joked, but she could sense his sincerity and underlying tone of seriousness.

  A crowd of a couple hundred witches—which was most of the tribe—blocked their view of the campfire. Aryana and Diovan had to squeeze their way through until they could make out Enid. Amongst the crowd, Aryana could hear some of them whisper things like "She slayed the Red Beast."

  One of them replied, "Yes, but she used dark magic. I could have done that."

  "You are not to pass, dragon." An elder witch, part of Enid's team of advisers, stepped in their way. "The male servants stand over there." She pointed to the back, where the males were gathered. They couldn't even view the backs of the advisers, as shrubs and trees blocked their line of vision.

  Diovan glanced at them, then snorted. "I'm not a male-in-waiting. Try and stop me."

  The elder witch tensed her jaw. "Then we will wait until you are compliant."

  "I have all day."

  After three excruciating minutes of the greatest staring contest Aryana had ever a seen, and a buzzing of chatters and murmurs, Enid summoned the elder witch. She whispered something into the woman's ear.

  When the elder witch returned, she said, "The high seeker is benevolent today. She will let you pass."

  Diovan smirked. "Good."

  "But only if we are allowed to take away your powers momentarily. We cannot let you undermine our positions so greatly."

  Diovan's smirk fell. "I don't like the sound of that. We can wait."

  The elder witch looked at Aryana, as if instructing her to do something about Diovan.

  "Diovan?" Aryana said, placing her hand on her temple. "I'm not keen on standing here for much longer."

  His smug demeanor fell. "Are you giddy?"

  "I'm feeling a little
lightheaded. Can we get this done and over with? You can wait with the males. It'll be over soon. I think my sister just wants to do this for formality's sake. She won't hurt me."

  "I'm not leaving your side."

  "It'll be quick."

  He straightened himself, then resolutely told the elder witch, "Take my powers. I'll follow her in."

  "Are you sure?" Aryana asked. He was a bit too fidgety on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

  "Yes."

  The elder witch commanded her magic to build a faint, power-suppressing glow around Diovan. The elder then stepped aside, allowing them to pass. "If you think the high seeker will make this easy," the witch said, "then you're wrong."

  An unsettling sensation swirled in Aryana's gut.

  Enid clapped her hands, silencing the crowd. She stood from her wooden seat. Enid was the same height as Aryana, but at that moment, Enid made Aryana feel small. Enid leveled her gaze at Aryana. "The trial begins now." Enid's lips pressed into a tight line. Aryana had expected Enid to give her a warmer welcome, seeing that she had only just survived a kidnapping by a dragon dictator. The chill prickling Aryana's skin returned, but it wasn't because of the dark magic.

  "Aryana Vardar, second seeker of our tribe of water witches, has been found guilty of performing the greatest sin a witch can commit. Just yesterday, through a tracking spell, I witnessed her attempt at harvesting the Red Beast's soul."

  Aryana knew her sister was likely one of the few witnesses. The location spell was too costly to sustain. Having too many people view the vision at the same time didn't make sense, because it would make the vision more expensive to upkeep. Couldn't Enid have kept it to herself to protect Aryana?

  Enid narrowed her eyes. "The cost of such a crime is commonly life imprisonment, or death."

  Diovan snapped his jaw. "I was not told of this."

  Aryana wrapped her fingers around his to try and calm him down.

  "Second seeker"—Enid gestured at Aryana—"what do you have to say in your defense?"

  "If it means anything, I did it to escape. Joakim was going to kill me."

  "That is an excuse, but it doesn't sound like a good one." Enid crossed her arms behind her back and stood straighter.