The prince relaxed further into his chair and before putting a piece of tart into his mouth, he answered. "The performance arena of course. I had spoken to Fala, the leader before leaving Merlanis, and requested that she perform in Apollo with her... goddess blessed warriors." The king frowned at hearing the prince mention the goddess blessed folk. It was no secret that the royals hated them, hated how they were not fae and yet had an inkling of the powers of what the fae long ago held in their blood.
The king seemed to be in grave thought before he waved his palm. "I have never seen an arena performance. There might be a great deal to even learn from the goddess blessed folk, don't you think, Cillian?" I would have jerked back into my seat in shock if it weren't for the war general's hand laying upon my chair. I had not heard him enter nor walk up to my chair.
"Why of course. The blood that seems to run through their veins is quite interesting," he answered all while keeping an eye on me. "Forgive me for my tardiness, Your Majesty. I was attending to the prison wardens before I could join." Cillian bowed and when the king raised up his hand in acknowledgement he pulled up a chair and brought it in between Colfe and Izlana. I tried to control the slight warmth ofhappiness that spread across my chest at the confirmation of the arena arriving in Apollo tomorrow. That happiness seemed to die down when the war general settled into his seat and laid his scheming eyes on me.
"I wouldn't have figured you'd attend considering the dinner is almost over." The prince gestured to the table that had the red tarts upon the plates. The war general's very own plate of dessert was brought forward to him.
"Come now, Adrion, you of all people know I much prefer dessert." Cillian gave a half-hearted smile. Upon the array of spoons and forks at my disposal, I secured the tart with my fork and cut with the spoon, lifting it up to my mouth. The crust of the tart was buttery and rich whereas the filling was bitter with the taste of wilder berries.
"Interesting. Out of the array of utensils sat at your disposal you picked up the correct ones to eat the tart. I did not know the arena had taught such etiquette." Cillian's voice cut through the table to me. The king scrutinized and even the prince looked a bit confused once he glanced at the utensils I held.
I swallowed the contents in my mouth that seemed to instantly lose their flavour. "My arena master is a true lady in all her might," I spoke slowly and tried to make sense of what I explained. "She raised me to act like one too, aside from the fighting of course. We are not the brutes that are usually associated with the arena."
"Interesting," Cillian murmured before winking and lifting up another piece of tart to his mouth. His scar looked more gruesome under the light of the dining hall.
"And what are your goddess blessed powers?" The king's eyes were on the goblet of wine he held. I dug my fingers into my palm, clutching tight and controlling my nails from biting into the flesh.
"I have blades that can be commanded alight by fire." I hesitated before I answered, which was a mistake because the king rose from his chair.
"Can you kindly provide a demonstration?" I shivered in fear of what the king had planned. Was he testing me, was he going to kill me once I had shown him?
"With all due respect, my King, are we really going to do this at the dinner table? There are guests around." Colfe sputtered and seemed to lower himself in his chair.
"Do not question the king." The prince bit out and how I wished he had actually agreed with that pig of a man for once. "Go ahead, Mor." The prince gave me a slight look of stern encouragement. The war general smirked and leaned forward as if he didn't believe I could wield such a power. I detached the fire blades strapped to my thigh, the king's eyes glowed iridescent upon seeing blades. Before I could command the blades alight, they whispered harshly in a foreign language that was too hard to decipher until they slowly murmured to me in a language I was already familiar with. "Of my kin. Burn. Bleed. Make them bleed. Kill everyone and everything. Destruction. My kin to my kin."My apprehension was so sudden that I nearly stepped back. They were not responding to me; they were responding to the king whose eyes glowed a brighter red than before. I fought a difficult mental battle of control for them to submit to me and quieten.
The fire beings that wielded these blades were related to the royals.I swallowed the thought as I commanded the blade alight. Controlling the flame and the sinful desires that burned inside me to set the whole world aflame.
"That's a neat party trick." Cillian scoffed. I wasn't in complete control when I struck the fire blade to his half-eaten tart that burnt to a crisp. The plate rattled and cracked on immediateimpact. I vanquished the fire upon hearing the startled gasps in the room. Even Izlana’s wide eyes seemed fearful.
The king, full of surprises, instead of calling his guards on me, chuckled and picked up the blade on the plate to inspect it. "My ancestors once wielded blades like this, funny how they found their way to you." I didn't respond to his remark.I could feel it; feel him try to take control of the blades. They wanted him to.He flipped the blade from hand to hand. I was so focused on control that I had not noticed he now stood in front of me, extending the hilt to me. "Perhaps you were always meant to be a warrior for Apollo." I took the blade from his hand, making good work not to make contact with his fingers. "It is a shame however that you have such an unfortunate name." He gave a cruel smile. I bit the inside of my cheek, embarrassment eating at me. The prince who was silent through it all let out a slight growl. The king stepped towards the dais where the sparkling cauldron purred at the king's presence.
What in Riaan's name is that...?
"All rise." His voice boomed as he dragged a long finger across the golden rim.
"The prince, my son, has had a successful conquest in Terran. For that, a tribute shall be made to thecauldron of Apollo." The king stood before it and I was nearly brought down to my knees with the power that enveloped my senses. The prince beside me gave my hand a squeeze, as if to warn me not to panic.
"They once said that the fae who paid tribute to the cauldron possessed such strong magic that when tribute was paid, the cauldron would provide an equally strong boon to the worthy. For now, the boons that are gifted are either temporary or of little value but nonetheless it is a tradition that must be followed in Apollo." The quietly explained.
"Don't pay much attention to the power in the room. He loves showcasing for those to remember how insignificant and weakthey are. This is just a show of dominance, pay little heed to it," the prince beside me folded his arms and whispered. The cauldron whispered a song into my mind. The shadows inside me hummed in answer and I could have sworn that the shadow in my soul left my body and stalked toward the dais. Discreet, menacing and hidden.
"A prayer, as most of you may know, must be given to the very gift the God has given us." The king raised his hand and began the prayer. Everyone followed, even the prince.
"To the free folk, we are never alone
we are the fire of the phoenixthat submits to the same Sun
To Apollo who has created us
And to everlasting lightto eternally triumph darkness
The light will correct the wrongs
No more shall shadows plague
To the end of death
And to the winning of life"
