Chapter twenty-seven
Everly
“Your magic is instinctive, driven by your will and emotions,” Valric explains, his eyes steady on mine. “It has always come naturally to you, which is lucky, because you were never one to sit and focus on spell work or incantations as a child.”
I snort softly, unable to help myself. “I can’t imagine most children would focus on spell work.”
His lips curl into a small, knowing grin. “Perhaps not. But you were different. By the age of two, you were already showing signs of powerful magic. Your magic and the natural world around you were deeply intertwined, almost inseparable. Your parents did their best to keep it under control, to shield you—and themselves—but people talk. By age four, you could do just as much, if not more, than your mother.”
I blink, my mind racing back to distant, fragmented memories. “I remember that day in Pinehelm,” I admit quietly, almost to myself. “The entire forest came to my aid.” The words catch in my throat, and I quickly swallow the lump threatening to form.
Valric nods, his expression softening, but his tone remains firm. “You were brave. Your actions saved you that day.”
“But I condemned my parents.”
His eyes glimmer with sympathy, but he doesn’t flinch. My eyes drift to the scar running down the side of his face—a silent reminder of his own sacrifices that night.
After a long pause, he speaks again. “Druids have always been deeply connected to the earth, the plants and animals. You are the last of the royal bloodline, your magic is deeper, stronger than you think. I know you feel it, especially when you’re outside, that tingle of magic under your skin.”
My head bobs, my fingers gliding over the smooth, emerald-green silk of the dress. The rich fabric shines faintly in the light, a welcome contrast to the gritty sparring clothes I just discarded. I hadn’t wanted to meet Valric looking like I’d just crawled out of a battlefield. Magic demands focus, and it’s hard to concentrate feeling like you reek of sweat and exhaustion.
The dress isn’t extravagant, its design simple yet elegant, cinching just enough at the waist to flatter my figure without being restrictive. Practicality still rules my choices. And there’s something about the deep green that makes me feel powerful, connected.
“But unlike other druids, you have been more in tune with the animals, yes, some could understand animals and other species, like your mother, but for you it came naturally, you bonded with almost anything that crossed your path. Then you took it a step further and were able to work with natural elements. Youcreated a connection with the wind and water spirits. Which is extraordinary for a child, as this was something that isn’t learned until adolescence.”
I frown, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “The elements?”
“Yes, water, air, earth. But you only ever displayed a talent for water and earth. The water spirits took a liking to you, but you’ve never been able to wield fire. I think it is because of its destructive nature. That was never you.”
My mind goes back to when I summoned that wall of water in the bathroom, and the shock I felt when I realized it was my magic causing it.
I take a deep breath, memories stirring—both exciting and terrifying. All the times the breeze and wind have guided me since arriving back here, the gentle brushes across my skin as if soothing me, was that the air spirits trying to connect with me?
“Tell me what you have managed to do with your magic since returning, and what you were feeling when it happened?”
I settle into one of the plush chairs around a small table, sinking into the soft cushions as I think of where to start.
“Well, the first time I really noticed anything happening was when the Vuriens attacked me. I created a dome of vines,” I begin, my voice soft. “It encased Maxon and me. I just wanted them to stop hurting him, to protect us both. And then–” I shake my head, struggling to put the experience into words. “I didn’t even think about it. The vines just . . . responded.”
Valric’s head dips, silent encouragement urging me on. “And what else?”
I hesitate, skipping over some of the more personal memories—the bond with Maxon, the Renascitur, those privatemoments. Instead, I let my mind drift to the intensity of the battle in Skora.
“In Skora, during the battle, I commanded the earth and the plants, with a single thought,” I tell him, feeling the pulse of that moment as if I’m reliving it. “It’s like I knew exactly what I wanted to happen, and the earth responded. I feel more connected with the earth.” My eyes return to Valric. “When Yumekui took me, I remember struggling to keep hold of my magic. At one point, I thought about warriors with bows and arrows. It was a fleeting thought, a flash of an image, four figures standing strong beside me. And then . . . they came to life. Four women, made of sticks and vines, each with a bow and arrow drawn, all ready to protect me.” My eyes find Valric again. The realization of it is still raw, almost surreal. “I hadn’t meant to summon them.”
“You said you had trouble keeping hold of the magic. What do you mean?”
“It was . . . I don’t know, like I was drained, like I’d used too much all at once. There was barely a spark left by the time Maxon arrived and took over the fight. I could hardly stand, let alone wield anything powerful enough to make a difference. I was useless—I couldn’t save him or Rayna. And I was terrified because . . . because I thought it was gone.” I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I thought I’d lost it for good when I was in the Winter Court, but it wasn’t that. It was Felix. He’d been blocking my magic the whole time.”
Valric’s eyes are lined with sympathy. “You haven’t used your magic in a long time. It was locked away from you in the human world. Remember, you and your magic are one and are slowly becoming reacquainted. It will take time, but you never need to force your magic to rise. It's more coaxing it to life.”
I nod, leaning against the table and tracing the patterns on the surface of the wood. Valric stands and opens the balcony doors, and immediately a soft warm breeze enters, wrapping around me as if trying to comfort me. I close my eyes and smile, feeling the stir of magic under my skin.
“Show me something,” Valric implores in a soft voice.
My fingertips tingle as the sweet smell of roses infiltrates my senses. I envision a riot of vibrant roses, their petals unfurling and reaching, transforming this room into a fragrant paradise. Shadows dance over my vision, as if something large and gentle were shifting across the sun, and I open my eyes with a gasp.
The balcony has been transformed. Brilliant pink and purple roses bloom everywhere, hanging from creeping vines that spill into the room and arch across the ceiling. Each blossom seems to pulse with a soft, inner light, casting faint glimmers like stars over the ground.
