My nose scrunched. “Veyrithus outside the arena, or whatever it’s called.”
“We still have to work on that accent,” he noted, and then I was thrown back into darkness.
A moment later, we landed at our destination. I frowned at the sharp pain in my temple. It now dawned on me that it happened every time 226688veyrithedme.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said softly. “The pain will get worse before it gets better, but you’ll get used to it. It is the cost of veyrithing—humans are not supposed to do such magical things.”
“How exactly does veyrithing work?” The notion was still new to me—an idea woven from fabricated stories that went against every rule of physics.
226688 sucked in a deep breath, and a slight whistle escaped his lips when he raised his brows.
“It’s a complex topic, but I’ll try to explain it the best I can.” The fairy cleared his throat, as if he was preparing to speak for quite a while. “Your head feels it first; it’s the first part of you that is affected by the veyrithing. When we do it, our minds and bodies part, and at the end, they meet at the destination. You’re split between two places, so your mind travels before your body,” he clarified. “Think of your body as a vessel. By staying behind, it ensures that in case you get lost, you can always come back.” Hiseyes met mine, and a knowing smile curved his lips. “Interesting, isn’t it?”
“Can one get lost?”
The fairy bobbed his head, anticipating the question. “It’s not possible on such short distances, but if you were to veyrith to your home, for example, you could definitely get lost in the darkness. Your body would wait for your return if that happened. It took our gods thousands of years to find a solution; we lost many noble warriors in their minds when they tried to veyrith. They discovered that using the body as a vessel was the greatest safety measure. And it is.”
“If the process of veyrithing is just a walk through darkness, how does someone even know where to go?”
“Each place you visit has an aura. You just have to tap into it.”
My brows furrowed. “And those you haven’t visited?”
“Only our gods are powerful enough to do that,” he replied, then tipped his head.
“Is there a cost for the gods? When they veyrith?”
226688 shook his head, a smile playing on his lips as he likely deemed the question foolish. “For lesser gods? Yes, they own little to no power. For gods, however? No, not necessarily. Veyrithing is similar to walking. Of course, exhaustion is a matter to consider, but the gods would require a significant amount of time before they would tire. I, however, have a low energy reserve that can only be restored by resting. There’s no shortcut for magic!”
My lips pursed. There were so many questions I wanted to ask.What are lesser gods? Do gods have any limitations at all? What exactly can they do with their magic?
The curiosity I saw flickering in his eyes was the only reason I suppressed my own urge to inquire more.
“You answered my questions, so I’ll answer one for you.”
He seemed relieved as he opened his mouth to speak. “How did you get your eye?”
It impressed me he had lasted this long without asking. Most people—though I had rare encounters with them—would ask without even thinking twice.
My throat dried. “I was born with it.”
The fairy nodded, squinting at me.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. We should go inside.”
I studied him, and he avoided my gaze like a burning fire. It irritated me knowing that even if I asked, he would dodge my questions like a bullet.
Inside the arena, pairs of contestants stood scattered, each a good distance from the weapon-laden table, their chosen arms already in their grips. I wouldn’t call this a proper training session, but a waste of energy that foretold a day of soreness to come. One day of training could do little to no difference for what was about to come.
My attention lingered on the table.There, I thought. Another advantage. If I could sneak a small, unnoticeable item into my pocket—ideally without the fairy noticing—I could find something to ensure my safety.
“Would you mind giving me some space?” I uttered, averting my gaze to 226688 who was continuously flying beside me. “It’s hard to get used to always having someone around when you’re used to being alone.”
I only needed a few minutes.
He offered a silent nod, his eyes avoiding mine before he took flight.
