“Sorry, I?—”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Askel glanced toward where the sounds of battle were coming from before turning back to me, pointing to his eyes that did not have a gold rim. “It’s not that, it’s just that Otho and I don’t agree on this.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, absentmindedly rubbing his arm. “My parents were very enthusiastic about being Seid, and unlike most in Ralheim, they intended to teach me as soon as I was old enough.” His finger came up to scratch his ear, and I spotted a slight tremor. “Most covens shared books, with each member owning one. Most of Ralheim had stopped reading magic years before the Purge because of the increasing persecution, but my parents . . .”
“They had magic,” I concluded.
He nodded. “And they told me and my sister that as soon as we were old enough—” He swallowed. “The Purge happened the next year.”
I remembered what Otho had said about his sister, and I rested my hand on his shoulder to save him from the admittance that was ripping him apart. “I understand. I’m sorry.”
“I think we should be taking this time to read what we can before this war gets worse,” he admitted with a shuddering breath. “But Otho?—”
“Thinks it’s dangerous,” I finished for him.
“Yes.”
Our conversation stalled then, and I relistened to our conversation in my head. There was one thing that didn’t add up. While I might have once swallowed that question, in hopes of not upsetting anyone, now there was nothing to prevent me from asking it. “But if you were the only one left alive, how did you end up in the military?”
“I was twelve when the Purge happened.” His voice was devoid of emotion. “I was a second child.”
It was my turn to gulp. He was three years younger than me.
“I was supposed to go to Adis anyway. The Purge just hastened the timeline by a few weeks.”
I looked Askel up and down, wondering if I too, appeared tired beyond my years. I thought back to the time I’d recently spent with Otho. “I think Otho might be changing his mind about magic.”
It was impossible not to feel the way Askel’s mood perked before his shoulders slumped once more. “He’s probably just saying that. Otho has been against magic for as long as I’ve known him.”
I realized then that I had no idea how old Otho was. “Have you known him long?”
Askel shrugged. “He was all I knew after my parents. When I was brought to Adis’s, I was strong and tall for my age. Instead of starting in the household, I was sent straight to the barracks.”
The exact opposite of me. “Otho was already general then?” I couldn’t explain the way my heart gripped in my chest, desperate for the answer.
“No.” The corner of Askel’s lips quirked up. “He was a twenty-year-old captain then, He’d been with Adis for two years, but as you can imagine . . .” He checked over his shoulder again, as if Otho could come at any moment. “With his attitude, skills with a sword, and muscle like that, he climbed the ranks faster than anyone ever has before.”
It felt like my whole body blushed at his words, but at least I had been able to answer my question.
Otho was thirty.
“But that’s enough gossip.” He moved a few paces away before shifting into a fighting stance. “We’ve got some magic to train.”
CHAPTER 32
Time moved quickly after that and Leif didn’t visit again. At least, not where I could see. My feelings for Leif were confusing, because on one hand, I enjoyed his flirting and attention, but on the other end, I couldn’t reconcile the man who offered to teach me to swim with the one who lied to me about everything from his parents to his future plans for us.
Askel and I trained my magic each morning, and while I still struggled to call metal without first using my wind power, I could now send small sandstorms in the direction I chose, something Askel had been taking full advantage of.
I chuckled as I remember the night before, when he had asked me to help him prank Otho by sending a small sandstorm into his tent.
Unfortunately for Askel, Otho hadn’t found it funny or alarming. In fact, all he had done was peek his head out of his tent, enough to frown at us disapprovingly, before disappearing inside again.
