Mage- The Ancient's Might

by S A Edwards

  His haggard frown confirmed my theory. How had this happened? They had planned to use their magic to trap the Hellions, not themselves. What went wrong?

  “We can only bind creatures of magic,” Lux said. His words sounded muffled beyond the prison wall. “You are Mortal.”

  “So? That doesn’t explain why you’re the prisoners.”

  Kyne laughed.

  With some effort, I twisted to face him. Behind him, Chimera rolled in a fierce battle with a giant. Siren stood bleeding a short distance away. A Hellion lay nearby, its head in the Ancient’s hand.

  “When you touched the Keeper’s power, it backfired.” Kyne spat on the ground. “Their magic consequence is merely a result of attempting to trap a Mortal. You used to know this, Celeste. It’s satisfying to see how ignorant you have become.” He smiled, ignoring Chimera’s struggle. The giant struck him in the side. Chimera roared.

  I longed to help him, but without my gifts, I could do nothing. I hugged my arms to my body.

  Hellions surrounded us in a small circle, standing like a barricade against Rickson’s unclaimed monsters. He stood to one side, watching smugly while Chimera battled the remaining, uncontrolled Hellion.

  Siren dropped the Hellion’s head and staggered over to me. Blood slid down his arm. He collapsed on the rock. “You’re bleeding.” His finger grazed my head, and a stab of pain shot through it.

  “Never mind it.” I reached for his arm, searching for my connection to the water in the dirt. I needed to heal him. I needed my gifts back.

  “It’s no use.” Siren frowned and took my arm to prevent my efforts. “I saw what you did.”

  Tears welled and threatened to spill over. “No. If I just try again, if I focus hard enough –”

  “Stop.” His eyes held no anger, and the gentleness of his voice only confirmed his resignation to the new situation. A stab of grief struck me. His or mine, I couldn’t tell.

  “He’s gone.” My voice quivered. “I failed him. He’s gone.”

  Kyne grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet, away from Siren. “You won’t fail us.”

  I lashed out at him, but he twisted away and gripped my throat.

  “Let her go.” Siren struggled to stand.

  Kyne kicked him back down. “What will you do? The Blade Hellion cut you. It’ll be days before your gifts return.”

  “The Blade Hellion?” I struggled against his grip and stared at the beheaded Hellion. “That’s where the Mortals get their blades?”

  “From its venom,” Kyne said. “It loses its potency when removed from the creature but either way, the effects wear off eventually.” His face twisted in a sneer. “No matter. He won’t live long enough to see them restored. Not once Rickson’s done with him. Brain dead, I believe is the term.”

  Rickson grabbed Siren by the hair, jerked him back, and stabbed a blade through his hand, sealing him with the ground.

  Siren screamed. Blood spread from the wound, gleaming in the silver edge of the dagger.

  My heart lurched. “Let me go.” I drove my foot into Kyne’s shin, but his grip didn’t loosen. Black flashed through his eyes. He grabbed my hair and pulled.

  Pink fluff spun in Rickson’s free hand, growing bigger. “It seems,” he said, “the more powerful the creature, the greater the effect of my … fluff.” He chuckled. “We really should give it another name.”

  The ball stopped spinning. Rickson shifted his stance, bracing Siren’s head against his stomach and grabbed his chin.

  “Don’t you get it?” My words sounded almost hysteric. I fought against Kyne’s unrelenting grip to no avail. “My gifts are gone. I have no power anymore.”

  Rickson paused, and my heart thrummed. “It’s over,” I said. “You can’t go home.”

  Kyne tugged me closer, leaning in until his nose nearly touched my cheek. “Is that what you think? You really have no idea who I am, do you? What I know. What I can do.” The heat from his pale flesh made my skin crawl. “You really believe a whisperleaf can stop me?”

  “It took my gifts. They’re gone.”

  “Doesn’t change anything.” He nodded at Rickson.

  Siren struggled, but Rickson’s grip was sure. We were useless, powerless, a mere shadow of what we were before.

  Kyne dragged me away. “Let me go. Let him go.” Tears spilled over again. I drove my fist into Kyne’s stomach.

  He twisted my arm, forcing me to my knees. Blinding pain shot through my shoulder. Another inch, he would dislocate my arm. He cocked his head, amusement in his eyes. “Better. This is how it should be. You, worshipping me.”

  “What are you talking about?” I gasped.

  “You still don’t remember?” he asked. “Well, it really had an effect on you, huh?”

  “What?”

  He chuckled. “I’m your brother, Celeste.”

  I stared at him, a numbness in my stomach. “That’s not possible.”

  “And yet, it is.”

  Rickson held his fluff at Siren’s mouth, forcing it between his teeth.

  Chimera jerked into view with his teeth clamped on the giant’s wrist.

  A grinding, tearing sound scraped the air, then a chunky, stone-like arm flung across the expanse.

  The Hellion screamed, subjected to Chimera’s fierce clawing. Black blood slid across the rock, reflecting the dull light. The Hellion sank to its knees. Black veins spread across its neck and distorted features, and then it fell face-first to the dust.

  Chimera whirled with a snort and leapt toward me, nose wrinkled in rage.

  “Rickson!” Kyne barked.

  Rickson sprang into action. Releasing Siren, he conjured fluff between his hands, spinning it faster than the seamstress’ wheel, and launched it at my protector.

  I would have smiled had the circumstances been different. That would never work. Not with Chimera.

  Chimera swiped it aside, and a growl rumbled deep in his throat. He ploughed closer, opal eyes fixed on Kyne.

  Kyne let me go, leaping out of reach just as Chimera pounced. His claws broke the rock beside me, sending lightning cracks through the surface. The heat of his body radiated over mine, breaking sweat from my pores.

  He snarled at Kyne, and then flashed me a pointed look. One paw lifted against his side.

  I understood but shook my head. “Siren.”

  Pink fluff lay on the floor by the Ancient, half-melted where it touched his tongue. He pulled the dagger from his hand. Blood squirted from the wound, and the remaining hint of colour drained from his cheeks.

  Sidling over to him, Chimera bent down, allowing me to grab Siren and heave him up onto his matted back. Siren slumped against his neck.

  My protector turned on Rickson with a snarl, but the Mage had the sense to back away.

  Then, I grabbed Chimera’s shoulder, stepped on his leg and swung myself on to his back. He took off toward the barricade of monsters. I grabbed fistfuls of his long fur, desperate to stay on, and battled against my fatigue, struggling to hold Siren steady.

  Chimera’s hot muscles rippled beneath me, and his mane flattened against his head. Putrid, black blood clung to his side and rubbed against my leg.

  I leaned away from it, stomach churning, and my focus fell on my pack, resting open on a rock. “Chimera. My pack.”

  He shifted direction, not slowing when we approached.

  I scooped it up and hoisted it onto my shoulder.

  Rickson shouted something, and the Hellions turned, fixing us with hideous stares. They shifted, ready for us.

  “Chimera. Stop,” I gasped. We’d never be able to pass them.

  He paid no heed and barrelled onward.

  Had he lost his mind? We could never get through them alive. Even if we did, there were the unclaimed monsters to consider.

  An ear-splitting screech pierced the air.

  Pain tore through my head, shattering my thoughts. I clamped my hands over my ears, screaming.

  The surroundings shifted.


  My breath caught in my throat. Dizziness overwhelmed me.

  The world tilted.

  Then, the screech stopped.

  41

  Arhythmic pulse of air matched my heavy breathing. My mind buzzed after the terrible screech, and confusion coursed through me.

  The ground lay far below, blurring past in a rush of jade trees and azure rivers. Rose and orange streaked the sky, broken only by the long, silver-scaled claws that carried Chimera.

  Siren lay unmoving before me, eyes closed. Blood covered his hand and seeped into Chimera’s fur.

  I gazed at the silver Ancient above us. She didn’t look at me but focused straight ahead.

  “Della?”

  She peered down briefly and nodded at a point far ahead.

  White light glinted from the uppermost tower of the Might. The golden walls gleamed under the dawn, more stunning than I remembered, even from this distance.

  She dipped toward the trees and glided over them, never slowing. I guessed Chimera’s legs hung only feet above the canopy, but he didn’t flinch. Wind battered my cheeks and chilled my sweat, and I leaned closer to Siren, smelling his vanilla odour, wishing he’d wake.

  Time passed, and a dull fogginess touched my mind. Siren? I tightened my grip on him.

  Finally, the trees ended, replaced by hills traced with Della’s magic, and then we were soaring over the lake of liquid silver toward the arch.

  She deposited us gently on the dock and landed nearby, transforming at once into her human form. A white gown embroidered with silver hung from her shoulders.

  Prudens rushed to Chimera’s side, undeterred by his large size, and lifted Siren from his back.

  I scrambled off Chimera, staggered, and nearly dropped my pack.

  Della took my shoulders to steady me.

  “His hand,” I said. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “We know.” She steered me away, but I resisted. “There’s nothing you can do for him now,” she said. “Come with me. Siren will be fine.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “We have Healers here, remember? Now, come.”

  I glanced back at Siren. His body trembled, his lips growing purple. Others arrived and helped carry him through another arch.

  Chimera stayed by the lake. Two women clothed in white stood by him. Sky-blue jewels adorned their dresses, and Chimera leaned into them.

  “Chimera?” I whispered.

  “He needs attending to. He will be well taken care of.” Della led me around a corner and through a set of corridors. The thick carpet beneath my feet welcomed me, almost urging my fatigue to take over.

  We entered the courtyard. Water spilled from the fountain in the centre, surrounded by floating Lallanas with golden centres – the same blossoms that grew from the whisperleaf tree, the tree that had given me hope to save Charlie.

  My grief returned to me in a flood, dragging me to my knees. My chest ached, and my head stung. Charlie’s smile swam before my vision, pulling back the memory of my last encounter with him, his final goodbye.

  Tears wet my cheeks and splashed on my knees.

  Della’s voice reached my ears, but I didn’t hear her words. She squeezed my arms, but I didn’t feel her touch.

  Then, cool hands clasped my head. Ice spread through my body, numbing my pain, my thoughts, my grief. White clouded my sight, and I sank into its reprieve.

  *

  Silence cut through all but my steady breathing, lulling me back to consciousness.

  I opened my eyes and stared at the silk canopy above my bed. My room in the Might. Or maybe not. They may all look the same.

  My clothes were gone, replaced by a simple, short-sleeved dress. A light sheet covered my stomach and legs, and several candles burned in the holder on the bedside cabinet. My pack lay on a pulled-out chair by the table.

  In my mind I searched for Siren, missing the comfort of the newling’s warmth and vanilla scent. Where could he be?

  Only, he wasn’t a newling anymore. He changed. Then, we left the Might.

  Slowly, the memories returned, and my pain resumed, though my mind still felt numb, like the weight of my loss had been suppressed.

  Somehow, the room appeared duller, fuzzy, almost. Probably the effects of losing my gifts. Without the keen sight of my Beast eyes, I could see only as a Mortal. The lack of sensing the magic here troubled me, like someone had stolen my sight.

  And a Mortal didn’t belong in the Might.

  I pushed away the sheet and climbed off the bed. What would happen to me now? The Ancients would send me away soon, and with the Keepers trapped in their own prison, I couldn’t go home. Even if I could, I’m not sure I would. Not without Charlie. Then, there was the issue of the escaped Hellions rampaging the land. I could do nothing to help now.

  A pair of white shoes rested beside the bed, so I slipped them on and headed into the bathroom.

  Light reflecting against white marble made me squint. I turned on the tap and stared at my pale reflection in the large mirror above the sink. No sign of the cuts and scratches gathered at the expanse remained. I assumed I had the Healer to thank for that, but despite the lack of physical injury, there was something she couldn’t heal, something that manifested plainly in the dull light of my eyes.

  My golden eyes.

  Even after losing my gifts, the colour hadn’t changed. Why was that? As punishment? As a reminder of what I’d had and lost?

  I splashed water on my face, wishing I could wash away the memories, the lingering fist around my heart. I couldn’t have saved Charlie. Not ever. Not with my weakness, my constant wavering from the path to him, giving in to each tiny distraction. Charlie was my priority, and I gave him up. For what? For Mortals who would kill me had the roles been reversed. For Kyne and his silly cause. For my brother. Supposedly. How could that be possible? I remembered my past lives. He was never in them.

  The worst part of it all was I would do it again. To save lives. To keep the peace. At least, that’s what I had tried to do. I’d failed in that as well.

  Tears mixed with the water pooling in my hands. It slipped between my fingers, unable to stay without my gift to hold it still. I flipped off the tap and trudged back into the bedchamber.

  The burning candle on the table flickered. I longed to call to it, to draw it in, to watch it dance over my fingers, but any connection I once held was gone.

  I ran my fingers over the intricate staff around my wrist, pausing on the gleaming, purple stone. How I longed to channel the power within, to extinguish the candles with my force. But now, it was no more than a pretty stone to my useless hands.

  There was no avoiding what came next. Might as well get it over with.

  My fingers grasped the cool, round handle of the heavy, oak door and tugged it open to the corridor. My feet trudged over the carpet, heading toward the courtyard. Hunger gripped my stomach, and I wondered if there would be anything in the hall to eat.

  Chimera lay beside the fountain, shaded by the towering centre from the sun. Judging by its placement in the sky, I guessed I’d been asleep through the morning and some of the afternoon. The two women with jewels over their dresses perched on the marble edge of the fountain.

  Chimera’s ears pricked toward me, and he padded over. He nudged my cheek with his wet nose.

  “I’m okay.” I failed to smile.

  The women giggled together, and my brow furrowed.

  “Why do you trust them so easily?” I asked. “It took a while for you to trust Siren.”

  “They are Peacekeepers.” Prudens leaned against the arch leading to the hall. “Noble and gentle in nature, they inspire trust from all creatures – even Hellions, although none have been known to control Hellions. They were our best choice for giving your Chimera the aid he needed.”

  “I see.” I surveyed the women. Fair of countenance, they appeared to spark a calm in Chimera I’d never seen before. “Are there many Peacekeepers around?”

  “Just t
hese two,” he said. “Twins are rarely born less than a thousand years apart.”

  “So, twins become Peacekeepers?”

  He nodded, and then his expression turned grave. “Siren showed me what occurred at the expanse.”

  A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back. “How is he?”

  “He’s resting.”

  “He’s healed?”

  “Nearly. He’s suffering the effects of proclivitas.”

  So, Rickson’s fluff took hold even though he failed to get it down Siren’s throat. The experience of my own addiction to it still clung fresh to my mind. Was it worse for an Ancient? If he was still suffering with it, it must be terrible for him.

  “And it will take time for his gifts to return,” Prudens said. “The scratch of a Blade Hellion was an unfortunate occurrence. We are blessed that Siren managed to reach me before it happened.”

  “I guess he was wrong,” I murmured.

  “About what?”

  “He said we were companions. I think he figured we’d be working together for something, you know, with our magic.” I smiled sourly. I supposed even an Ancient can’t always be right.

  “The loss of your gifts doesn’t make his statement any less true. You are companions. I believe the reason for that will reveal itself soon enough.”

  I shook my head. “I have no gifts. I’m useless now.”

  “Your gifts are not what makes you special. It is what’s in your heart.”

  I turned away from him and watched the water tumble in a blur behind Chimera. “Still, I’m Mortal now, so what happens next?”

  “This is the safest place for you. Without your gifts, you cannot protect yourself.”

  “But I’m not an Ancient.”

  “That matters not.”

  I wrung my hands. They would welcome a Mortal into the Might? The thought felt against their rules. But then, what did I know about their rules?

  “And the Keepers?” I asked. “They can’t send the Hellions back while they’re in that prison.”

  “Worry not. We’ll figure something out.”