“What happened?” Grayson demanded. “Are you okay?”
Flynn rolled his head, and his grin broadened. “Never better.”
“I mean it, Flynn. Are you okay?”
He pushed himself onto his elbows. “I’m serious. I’ve neverfelt better. It’s like a restraint has been removed,” he insisted. “Like my power was being regulated, but now … I don’t know, it’s stronger. Freer. Unfettered.”
Flynn’s words hit me like a physical blow. Someone had bound his powers. Our powers, because if they’d bound Flynn, they’d probably bound the rest of us. How long? Since we’d joined the guard? Since childhood? And who else knew? Carron? The king? Were they responsible?
Grayson and I exchanged a look.
Meanwhile, Flynn stared at his right hand, where a jagged white scar ran from the back of his thumb across his wrist—a souvenir from a battle we’d lost. “Their elementals always seemed impossibly strong. They were fighting unbound while we were leashed.”
I was supposedly the strongest water elemental in Legacia, yet I’d consistently struggled against Rymarian mages.
“How many of our people died because we weren’t fighting at full strength?” Flynn’s voice was barely a whisper.
They’d sent us to war with one hand tied behind our backs.
“He’s right.” Teal’s head still rested on the ground. His right hand still clasped Flynn’s left. “I can feel the difference in my power. It’s more intense.” He dragged his free hand across the frozen, snow-covered earth, and green shoots emerged from the snow. Within seconds, the shoots grew into a bush. A few seconds after that, the bush was covered in blooming roses. “Flowers in winter. That’s new.”
Flynn pointed his free hand at the break in the ward, and a line of blue fire expanded the opening. “Now it’s big enough for the horses.”
Grayson and I gaped. Flynn had never, ever, had that kind of control.
Flynn, who still held Teal’s hand, rolled his neck a second time. “Who do you think bound our powers?”
“The guard. Who else?” I felt the weight of Grayson’s stare. The guard was everything to him—his identity, his purpose, his father’s legacy. Secretly binding our powers didn’t just represent betrayal; it shattered the foundation of everything he believed about duty and honor. The suggestion had hurt him, but the words needed to be said.
“There has to be another explanation.” His voice was tight, controlled. “Maybe it’s the ward itself. Maybe crossing into enemy territory automatically enhances our abilities.”
“Gray.” Flynn held up his scarred hand. “We’ve been fighting at half power our whole careers.”
“No.” Grayson shook his head sharply. “The guard doesn’t—they wouldn’t—” But even as he spoke, I could see doubt creeping into his eyes.
“How many of our soldiers have died because of this?”
Grayson flinched. “You don’t know that everyone is suppressed—” He stopped mid-sentence, his face going pale. The argument died on his lips because he knew. He’d always known something was wrong, had probably made excuses for our failures just like he was doing now. His shoulders sagged. “Why would they do that?” The question came out broken, barely a whisper.
“To keep us controllable,” Flynn said bluntly.
Grayson’s hands trembled as he braced himself against a tree. Everything he’d built his life on was crumbling, and we could all see him fighting not to acknowledge what was right in front of us.
“Gray—” I started.
“No.” His voice turned savage as he slammed his fist against the tree bark, drawing blood. “I believed in them.”
The silence stretched between us as Grayson stared at his bloodied knuckles. When he finally looked up, his eyesheld a fury I’d never seen before. “Why would they do that?” This time the question held the weight of his shattered world.
“To keep us in line,” I replied. Men like Carron didn’t want soldiers more powerful than they were. “What do you think, Teal?”
Teal had his hands, both of them, buried in snow. His face shuttered with concentration.
A sapling exploded from the earth, quickly growing into a tree laden with shiny red apples.
We stood in stunned silence, watching Teal create a mature tree in a matter of minutes.
He stood, plucked an apple from a branch, and bit into the fruit. Juice dribbled down his chin as he grinned at us. “This is—” His grin widened till it split his face. “I could feed hungry people in the winter.”
