Any time I pictured magic, I pictured it as bloody, violent, and terrible. But this magic? It’s… lovely. Unexpected.
Finally, King Cassius steps forward, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him. He picks up a goblet of wine from a nearby table and holds it up, his expression intense as the liquid inside rises in a thin, twisting stream, dancing through the air before splitting apart and landing perfectly in several empty cups.
“All four of us… have our powers back,” he whispers in awe, disbelief coloring his tone.
The hall erupts in gasps and cries of astonishment, a cacophony of emotions swirling through the air like a tidal wave, a wave of joy, relief, and renewed hope.
King Oberon steps closer to me. “It’s you. You're the reason for this.”
I take a step back, shaking my head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You don’t necessarily have to have done anything,” King Ashton emphasizes, his usual teasing tone replaced by something more serious, more earnest. “It’s just... you.”
The fae are all staring at me now, not just the kings, but everyone in the room. Awe, fear, hope, it’s all there, written across their faces, and I try to ignore the building desire to turn around and run away under the weight of all their expectations.
King Sylvian walks past me and runs a finger down the bare skin of my arm. “Want to watch me teach them a lesson?”
“He’s all talk,” King Cassius says, those incredible pale eyes of his locking onto mine. “Real warriors show their skill with actions.”
Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, the fae create a circle around the four kings, crowding too close to my back and to my sides. Nervous, I take a small step forward, then back, as I realize I don’t want to be anywhere near the center of the ring where the men will be doing whatever the hell they’ll be doing.
The kings begin to shed their jackets and shirts, revealing powerful, toned bodies that glisten under the soft light of the chandeliers. I gawk, even though I don’t want to. I’ve never seen a man’s body like theirs before. My father… my grandfather… they didn’t look anything like this.Do all fae have muscles like theirs?Tearing my gaze from them, I look around.No, definitely not. The other fae men look nothing like these four.
King Oberon stands at the forefront, that familiar scowl replaced with a look of fierce determination. He raises his hands, and flames begin to dance around him, bright and wild, sending shadows skittering across the walls.
“Watch closely,” he taunts the others, a smirk playing on his lips as the flames twist into the shapes of dragons and phoenixes, their heat pulsing with every beat of my heart. Thecrowd gasps in appreciation, their eyes wide, but I know I’m the most impressed of them all.
Is this what fae magic can do?
At his side, King Sylvian plants his feet firmly on the ground, and with a deep breath, he appears grounded and steady as he gestures, and vines spring up around him, forming elaborate structures of blooming flowers that spiral toward the ceiling. The sweet scent of earth fills the air, and I find myself enchanted by the beauty of it all.
Then King Cassius steps into the fray, his demeanor calm yet intense. He raises his hands, and water gathers from thin air, forming a swirling pool that reflects the colorful lights around us. The liquid dances gracefully, splashing in rhythmic patterns, creating mesmerizing shapes that shimmer like jewels.
“Let’s see how the wind compares,” King Ashton chimes in, his voice light and teasing. He leaps into action, sending gusts of wind swirling around us, destroying King Sylvian’s plants and dashing to pieces King Cassius’s water, sending droplets raining down on all of us.
The wind fae cheer, clapping and grinning at each other, but the kings’ displays of power clearly aren't done just yet as both men are quick to react. King Sylvian’s vines and plants blossom again, breaking through cracks in the tiled floor beneath our feet, only this time his plants are bigger, stronger, and more vicious-looking. King Cassius waves a hand and water floats in from the balcony, a massive floating, shifting liquid, which shoots right over the kings’ heads. Neither men do more. They just wait.
For what… I have no idea.
King Oberon, with a commanding gesture, sends a wave of fire toward a cluster of vines that had dared to encroach upon his space. The flames consume them, leaving nothing but ash intheir wake. The fire fae erupt into cheers, clearly thrilled by the display of power.
King Cassius, not to be outdone, takes a deep breath and draws upon the water that splatters all over the floor from before. “Let’s cool this down a bit,” he says, flicking his wrist. A wave of water bursts forth, cascading toward the flames and extinguishing them with a hiss. The steam rises in swirling tendrils, creating an ethereal mist.
“Not bad, but I can do better!” King Ashton interjects, a mischievous grin on his face as he glances at me. He twirls gracefully, summoning gusts of wind that whip through the hall. The powerful currents toss the mist into the air, dispersing it as the wind sweeps through the space, scattering the remnants of King Oberon’s flames and the droplets of Cassius’s water. "I can make this much more interesting!"
As the fae cheer and gasp, I feel a mix of awe and disbelief. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. I never even imagined the fae had powers like these.
The battle continues, each king showcasing their magic with fervor. King Sylvian uses the earth to create rolling hills of dirt that absorb the water from Cassius, while King Ashton’s wind whips back in response, destroying Sylvian’s plants with ease and sending them tumbling. The fluidity of their movements is mesmerizing, and for the first time, I find myself more amazed than frightened.
Each time the men make a move, they appear to look in my direction, as if they’re checking that I’m watching. Why do they care if I’m watching?
How could I not?
It’s more than a display of magic; it feels intimately personal, as if they’re vying not just for victory but for my respect as well. I can see it in the way they glance my way, searching for myapproval amid their fierce competition. Their bodies glisten with sweat and power, and I feel strangely flustered.
This is silly. What am I doing?
The kings are busy. There’s no reason for me to be here. I can escape to my room and have a little peace to myself. And if their powers are back, maybe, just maybe, that’ll be enough for them to let me go. Maybe not, since it didn’t work for the other fae, but it’s a possibility I’ll hold onto.
