Wings of Arian

by Walls, Devri

  Eleana? Yes that must be who it was. She pushed past the pain to try to feel anything else, a thread maybe. And there it was. Yes, it was Eleana. Blinking again, Kiora opened her eyes slowly.

  “How are you feeling?” Eleana asked.

  “Terrible,” she croaked.

  “Yes, I imagine you would. Here,” Eleana placed a purple flask to Kiora’s lips and poured the liquid into her mouth.

  Kiora coughed and sputtered, the liquid was cloyingly sweet. As it went down her throat, however, it cooled the fire. She relaxed slightly.

  “There, now a little more,” Eleana poured more down Kiora’s throat, “It won’t take everything away, but it should ease the pain and help clear your head.”

  Kiora could feel her body relaxing in blessed relief. She still rode a wave of pain, but the swells had decreased to a point where it was bearable. “Thank you.,” she whispered. “What happened?” Kiora gingerly tried to push her way up to sitting.

  Eleana was sitting on the edge of her bed, her copper hair forward over her shoulders. “You were pulling more magic than your body was made to hold. As a result, the magic made some adjustments. It quite literally forced its way through you, making room for more. It is not common, but very painful,” she smiled weakly, “as you now know.”

  Kiora glanced around the room. Her eyes were still a bit blurry. Compounding this problem was the grit that felt as if it were sanding down her eyes every time she moved her eyelids. “Am I back at the castle?”

  “Yes, Emane was not happy that we brought you back in the state you were in. But the people are in need of someone to look to. Dralazar has been working in your absence. “

  Kiora reached out somewhat hesitatingly, searching for threads. She gasped as they came hurtling in at her request. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, she had never been able to feel so many at once! It took her a minute to sort through them all. Her eyebrows pulled together, “How did he get to so many?” she asked, hoping that perhaps she was wrong.

  “I am not sure. All I know is that he is here, working.”

  She gripped her head. “Why do I feel them all? I can’t… focus.”

  “Your powers should increase dramatically in all areas. And you will learn how to shut them out when you need to, just as before,” Eleana reassured.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kiora grunted, trying shove the threads back away from her. “That this was going to happen?”

  “I didn’t know. Magic is a very unpredictable thing.” Sitting up very straight, Eleana looked stoic and, perhaps for the first time, nearly her age. Her eyes weighed heavy with wisdom, age, and hurt. “I am sorry for a great many things Kiora. I am sorry for what we are asking of you. But now, at this moment, your people need you to save them before they choose evil’s side in ignorance.”

  Kiora hesitated a moment under the lingering pain and the overwhelming currents of magic before she said, “What do you need me to do?”

  ***

  “Your majesty,” Aleric said trying to reemphasize the same point that he had been trying to make for the last half an hour. “We will need everyone’s help. We can’t afford to spurn those that have offered to fight with us.”

  “Why should we trust those who fought against us last time, these ‘Shifters’ may not be trustworthy!” the King hollered back despite Aleric’s calm. “I have read the history books, Aleric. They detailed a great many things.”

  Emane was stretched out in his chair, his head resting on his hand as he drawled, “Enough, Father. Yes, they fought with Dralazar last time. That was a thousand years ago,” he yawned. “They are very committed to our cause, and very committed to Kiora.”

  “Kiora,” the King sneered. “This Solus that I have yet to ...” he trailed off, fixating on something over Emane’s shoulder. Turning to see what had caught his father’s attention, Emane saw a radiant Eleana and a rather shaky-looking Kiora standing in the doorway.

  Emane leaped up from his chair, “Kiora!” He exclaimed running to her in relief. “I am so sorry,” he began, “I wanted...”

  Eleana interrupted, “I insisted that he be here, instead of with you, Kiora.” She finished, “You can add it to the list of things he is displeased with me over.”

  Kiora was wearing a rather old fashioned looking evening gown with tiers of fabric and lace from her waist to the floor, her hair was pulled neatly back from her face. It was the only thing the maids claimed they were able to find. Kiora fiddled awkwardly with the tiers, pulling and smoothing them.

  “How are you?” Emane whispered, running his finger over the white stripe of hair that ran from just above her right eyebrow all the way to the end.

  “Tired.” Kiora absently reached up to touch the white stripe, “I have white hair, and I look like a cupcake,” she whispered back, dismally.

  Emane broke out into grin. “Glad to see that you are partially recovered.”

  “Emane, perhaps you should introduce our guests,” Aleric interrupted.

  Emane turned back to his father who was, oddly enough, not looking at the Solus he had just been complaining about not meeting, but rather his eyes were glued on Eleana. Her beauty alone was spectacular, but the glitter of her gown and the grace of her movements had to be of magic. And just as Emane had predicted, he was looking at her as if she were a green rabbit with three heads.

  “Father, this is Eleana,” Emane motioned, “and this is the Solus, Kiora.”

  When the King did not respond, Aleric motioned to the chairs, “Please sit, we have much to discuss and Kiora’s legs are shaking. I fear the poor girl may collapse if we leave her standing there much longer.”

  Emane helped her over to the table, Eleana gliding behind them.

  “We were just discussing with the king the decision the Shifters have made to join our side,” Aleric prompted.

  The King, at last regaining his composure, said once more, “I do not think we can trust those who fought against us last time.”

  Eleana responded. “Those who fought with you last time are either dead or sided with Dralazar, with the exception of the Guardians. Is it not reasonable to think that those who did not fight with you in the past may have learned from their mistakes?”

  “Why would we take the risk?”

  Eleana looked at the King steadily and, without dramatics, said simply and directly, “If you don’t, you will all most likely die.”

  There was silence for a long while, not even Aleric knew what he should say to that.

  The King finally broke, “What of this Solus?” he sputtered, motioning to Kiora. “I thought she was supposed to save us all.”

  “She will, if you give her the help that she needs. No one can be everywhere at once. Dralazar has the Fallen Ones as well as all the dragons but one. He has already converted some of your people and is working to bring some other creatures out of hiding. The Shifters offer us the unique ability of fighting each species with its own. I believe the saying is, ‘fight fire with fire.’ And Kiora will not only aid in that, but she will be able to deal with Dralazar.”

  “Deal with Dralazar!? She is a child, and I have seen no proof of any magic, powerful or otherwise.”

  “That is enough, Father!” said Emane.

  “You never asked,” Kiora said quietly.

  “What?” the King bristled.

  “You never asked.” Bringing her eyes up to meet his, Kiora continued. “For reasons that I don’t understand, you are angry with me. And Emane, I am getting so much anger from you I can hardly think. How are we going to fight Dralazar if we are fighting one with another and distrusting everyone that offers to help? The Shifters have already lost lives for us— for me.”

  Silence again.

  “Go ahead, Kiora,” Eleana urged gently, “show him what you can do. The King wants proof.”

  Why do I have to give a visual demonstration to everyone? She thought. “What would you like to see your majesty?” Kiora asked wearily.

  “Summon his crown,�
�� Emane suggested.

  “Where is it?”

  The King scoffed, folding his arms in front of him, “The Solus should be able to summon it here without help.”

  “She is not a mind reader,” Eleana snapped.

  “Your majesty, all magic has rules and exceptions,” Kiora explained, both to help him understand, as well as to get his anger off of Eleana. The King’s face was turning red again. “Summoning means I can call things to me. If I want something generic such as an apple,” a bright red apple appeared abruptly on the table in front of them, Kiora was a bit startled at how easy that had been, “I can summon an apple and one will appear.” she continued. “If it is a very specific item I want, I need to be specific. Those are the rules, and no amount of power can break those rules. I must abide by them, Eleana must abide them and so must Dralazar.”

  The King was staring at the apple. “How many crowns can there be in the kingdom Kiora?”

  Fine, she thought. A paper crown appeared on the table around the apple. It was worn and bent on the edges. In a child’s handwriting was written: King Tobias. “At least two,” Kiora responded, with great measure to keep a straight face.

  Emane did not fare so well, and snorted loudly. His hand moved to his mouth, doing a poor job of hiding his grin.

  The King leaned back in his chair, “So, she can summon. What good does that do us?”

  “Your Majesty,” Eleana said stiffly, “Your attitude and that of your forefathers is what got us into this mess in the first place. Had you listened to the prophecy and prepared the people, things would be different. She is the Solus, she will do as was foretold.”

  “My attitude!”

  “Enough!” Kiora said standing on still shaking legs. “We do not have time for this. I can already feel that some in the village are sided with Dralazar. We do not have time to sit and argue amongst ourselves about the past or the present. We must act. What do you need to see your Majesty? Would this be enough?” She reached her hand towards the window that looked out into the courtyard, the tree standing outside suddenly burst into flames. The King jumped back in his chair looking at Kiora in shock. “Or this?” she asked again. Bubbling, she disappeared from view. Reappearing she looked desperately at the King who was shifting nervously in his chair. “I cannot prove to you that I can defeat Dralazar, you are going to have trust in me and that is all I can tell you.”

  Placing his hands in his laps, the King evaluated Kiora. She looked back at him, refusing to look away despite desperately wanting to. The seconds ticked past before he seemed to wither before her eyes. “Very well,” the King said, his eyes fixed on the table. “I will send out messengers to every house, telling them that we have our Solus and apprise them of the situation.” He looked almost hopeless for a second. “Do not let us down Kiora.”

  ***

  Kiora stood just outside of the meeting hall in the throne room waiting for Emane. His father had asked him to stay a moment. Standing there, alone, she was bombarded by the essence of others. It was just like the first time, going from silence to a roaring tumult instantaneously. Gripping her head in frustration, she turned them off. As the threads slipped away from her and back into silence her shoulders relaxed. Closing her eyes she sighed in peace, it was good to just feel alone.

  Taking a minute to enjoy a peace that she rarely felt anymore, she admired the throne room. It was beautiful, with its stained glass windows and interesting architecture. She wondered how much time Emane has spent in her as a boy, sitting on the throne, hiding in the alcoves that ran the length of the room. She smiled to herself. She could almost see his little blond head running around as a toddler.

  A touch on her arm startled her. Whirling around, Emane was looking at her quizzically. “Didn’t you know I was here?”

  “No,” she shrugged sheepishly. “I had to tune the threads out, there are just too many.” Reaching out his finger, he tenderly ran it over her cheek, “I am so sorry, I didn’t want to leave you... I”

  “Shh,” she said putting her hand over the top of his. “I understand”

  Sliding his fingers behind her neck Emane gently pulled Kiora to him, kissing her softly on the lips as if she might break at any moment.

  “NO!” A scream cut through their kiss. “Get away from him you filthy monster!”

  Kiora gasped, spinning around as Emane stepped deftly in front of her, putting his hands out. “Ciera, stop!”

  Ciera’s hair flew out behind her, her face twisted in rage. “HOW DARE YOU! He is engaged… to me!” She slammed into Emane, her hands reaching and twisting around behind him, trying to get a hold of Kiora.

  “Ciera, stop,” Emane grunted, grabbing her arms and wrestling them to her sides. Ciera writhed and wriggled, still yelling. Kiora stepped backwards, sickened by the hate in the other girl’s eyes. Emane took a firm grip on Ciera’s shoulders, giving her a shake shouted, “Stop!”

  Ciera still struggled to free herself from Emane’s grip but kept her eyes locked on Kiora, “Your sister said, and he said.... you, you.... monster!” she yelled lunging at her again.

  Emane still held her fast, the vein in his neck bulging.

  “Let go of me!” she screamed. “How could you?” She rammed into him with her shoulder, looking at him for the first time. “How could you? She is a worthless liar! I know what you’ve done!” she shouted back at Kiora over Emane’s shoulder. “You’re a murderer! A lying monster and…”

  Kiora’s heart stopped and she stumbled backwards, running into a column. Putting her hands back she leaned against the column, breathing heavily, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

  Emane tightened his grip on Ciera’s arm, jerking her within in an inch of his face. “Never, ever, call her those things in front of me again,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Ciera spat it in his face.

  “WHAT IS GOING ON?” the King roared, exploding out of the meeting room doors and into the throne room. At the same moment, two guards had come running in through the main doors to see what all the commotion was about.

  “Take her!” Emane ordered the guards. The two guards rushed over, confused, but obedient, each taking one of Ciera’s arm. Emane wiped the spit of his face with the back of his sleeve. “Ciera saw something she didn’t like,” he answered to his father.

  Ciera lunged at him, almost jerking her arms free from the guards, who were not used to being anything more than ornamental. “Something I didn’t like? You are disgusting, kissing that... thing,” she spat.

  “What is she talking about Emane?” the King questioned.

  “I told you father, I won’t be forced to marry her.” Looking over to Kiora, Emane finished, “My heart belongs to another.”

  “You can’t possibly love her,” Ciera laughed bitterly. “You don’t even know what she is! The town will mock you behind your back every day for your foolishness!”

  Emane walked closer to Ciera, eyes flashing with anger. “There was a time where I found you beautiful. And then you began to show yourself. And now, when I look at you, I see nothing but... ugly.” That last word hung in the air, thick with meaning.

  Ciera lunged at Emane again, pulling the guards a step forward. “I HATE YOU!”

  Emane turned back to his father. “I will not marry her,” he announced pointing viciously in Ciera’s direction. “If it means that am I no longer heir to the crown, then so be it.” He grabbed Kiora by the hand yanking her behind him.

  Kiora thought the King would yell, follow them. But all she could hear was the screeching of Ciera.

  Kiora’s whole body was sore, and Emane yanking her arm down that hall was not helping. Mercifully, after they had gone a bit without any one exploding out of the throne room, Emane slowed to a walk.

  “I’m sorry,” he huffed. “I should have dealt with that earlier.”

  Kiora could think of nothing to say, instead she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. That was the girl he had been engaged to, and Emane was right—
she was horrible. When Ciera had first exploded out of the shadows Kiora had reached for her thread, and now that thread nagged at her. It felt off, at first, but the longer she stood there screaming, the darker it had turned. As if the sight of Kiora herself was the catalyst to her choosing evil’s side. And then there was the comment about her sister, Layla…

  “I’m sorry,” Emane said, breathing out while rolling his neck.

  “For what?”

  “I know what you’re feeling, what I...” he breathed out again. “I am trying to relax.”

  Kiora smiled, squeezing his hand again. “It’s alright, you are doing great.”

  “Come here,” Emane said, making a sudden right, “I have something to show you.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You will see.” He stopped as they reached a set of stairs. “Do you feel well enough to climb?”

  She paused, evaluating her aches and pains

  “If you have to think about it, I am going to assume it’s a no.” Emane whisked her off her feet, cradling Kiora in his arms.

  “Emane, I can walk!” she protested.

  “No, you can’t,” he said gently. “And I fully intend to take advantage of the situation, so just relax.”

  She resigned herself to being carried as Emane started up the winding staircase. Leaning her head against him, she asked. “Where does this lead?”

  “My favorite place in the castle.”

  “Hmmm, will your father be angry that we left like that?” she asked, tracing her finger over his chest.

  Emane chuckled. “My father is usually angry at something, at least where I am involved, anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not willing to bow at his every command. It has always made him angry, which is ironic really.” Kiora looked up at him with one eyebrow raised, questioning. “Because that is part of what made me fall in love with you,” Emane answered.

  “In your whole life, no one has ever really stood up to you?”

  “Not with any gusto.” He turned the final curve in the stairwell emerging into one of the castle turrets. The large stone room had beautifully open arched windows. In between each open window was a smaller window fitted with intricate works of stained glass.