The floor began to freeze. “I thought your name was Judd.”
A weak laugh huffed out of him. “That’s the name I use as a cover. I couldn’t go through other realms announcing my identity. I’d say you’ve earned the right to know it, at this point.”
My world rearranged as another lie fell exposed. “One more question for you, General. What are your thoughts on snow and ice?”
He assessed me like I’d lost my mind. But I needed to know his answer. “I hate them. Who wants to be cold all the time?”
The air stilled. It was him. It was always him. And he didn’t know who I was. I realized all at once that I represented everything he hated: His enemy-king’s groomed spy, and a wielder whose core magic, ice, was everything he despised. Whatever ember existed between us flickered out. I couldn’t afford to remain in a delusion. We were allies under a bargain borne of my need to survive.
I forced a smile that was more a grimace. Slumbering grief and the repressed sting of abandonment threatened to devour me. I swayed on my feet, needing to escape.
My words cut the silence from a tight, pressurized place. “I hope you feel better.”
Dom blinked slow, a small smile quirking the sides of his mouth. He turned on his side, showcasing his massive back, tattoos swirled in intricate patterns and ancient script I couldn’t read. “I’ll see you at dawn.” And with that, he relaxed, his breathing slowed into the rhythm of quiet slumber.
Nightmares plaguedme and I awoke in the disorienting in-between feeling young, exposed, and vulnerable. Reality’s horrid blanket settled upon me, smothering me. The king had unleashed monsters, and they had found Aphellion. The general was Dom, my oldest friend, and I felt overwhelmed with conflict over it. My distrust for my own judgment lurked like a demon in the rafters.
I absently felt around in my discarded leathers for a cherry candy, grateful to have overstuffed my pockets with them from the day prior. The process of fully tasting it dulled my spiked nerves, even if only a fraction. I inhaled, and inspected my chest from yesterday’s battle. Pale-pink skin replaced the angry burnmarks as if tiny carnations had burrowed into my flesh. I pulled on a tunic and trousers, and stalked to the sparring fields, my dedicated night guard close behind.
Dark-velvet sky yielded to the sun’s honeyed rays. My rage sang like the notes of a drum, thrumming with every pulse of my heart. Rage at the king. Rage at Dom. But mostly white-hot rage at myself. I started my sprints around the fields. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to feel nothing.
I pushed myself until I collapsed. Sweat dripped down my spine, drenching my clothes. I welcomed the sting of jagged rocks piercing the flesh of my knees. I lurched forward, vomiting. My stomach emptied itself, leaving me depleted. Hollow, save for that persistent ache.
I remained there, staring at the ground as if it could yield answers to the questions that wailed their beating fists against me. Then the general’s boots sidled into my field of vision. I leaned back on my heels, not caring about the contents of my stomach staining the dirt.
The general crouched before me. “You’re going to drain your magic just by sweating it out if you aren’t careful.”
I flinched.
“I’ve been watching you train. You push yourself too hard.” He paused, regarding me. “You don’t have to punish yourself, Ruin. We all have regrets. You don’t have to kill yourself to make up for yours.” He had no idea.
I couldn’t look at him. I was angry. I was hurt. The truth was I still missed him, well, what we had. I didn’t want his kindness, though. I needed space, or a good fight. I pulled a candy out of my pocket to help wash the sour taste from my mouth. Standing, I brushed past Dom, ignoring his concern.
At the fields, Finn paused his conversation with a guard. He marched over, giving a hearty pat to my shoulder and an awkward side hug. I twisted out of his embrace, aiming for theweapons table. Dom picked up some folded leathers, offering them to me.
“I have my own, General,” I spat.
He exchanged a glance with Finn. “These are better.” My gruff demeanor clearly confounded him. I glanced at the proffered leathers, then did a double take. These were scaled. My gaze flicked upward as he cocked a haughty eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes and reached for them.
My fingers caressed the material. The scales weren’t made of leather, and yet they were not quite metal. Their color shifted in the light from bluish-black to a sheen of silver. They held a unique tensile strength that belied their thin construction. Each one shimmered with subtle magic. The scales overlapped just like a dreki’s, but were flexible enough to allow swift movements.
The general interrupted my assessment with his deep timbre. “These leathers are the lightest we have created so far, while maintaining the strength of a shield of steel. They have saved me from countless ambushes and attacks, though they aren’t impenetrable. I want you to train in them this morning. Get used to how it feels, how they move.” He turned on his heel and grabbed a sword, gesturing for Finn to join him, effectively dismissing me.
I grabbed the clothes and walked to a nearby building. I admired myself in the mirror, begrudgingly observing the perfect fit, the placement of padding and pockets and holsters for all manner of blades. I’d never worn anything so skillfully made. I pulled my boots back on, tightening all the buckles and straps, and headed back to the field where Finn and the general sparred.
Bowen intercepted me on my way back. He wore his long hair in a knot on the top of his head. His arms swarmed with tattoos in the ancient Sarulien language of the gods, somethingI’d noticed several people in Aphellion sported. I knew nothing of the runes and glyphs.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” he ventured.
I slowed my pace to offer a moment of brief conversation before reuniting with the general. Anything to delay my return.
“Thanks for your help yesterday. You’re a healer?” I asked him.
“I’m an elixist, but I work very closely with the Prime Healer and Prime Elixist. Hence my presence in emergencies.” He smiled down at me. I perked up at the disclosure of his magic.
“My best friend, more a sister really, she is an elixist back in Maripol. One of the most accomplished. I know very little about what elixists do, but the way she created medicines and tonics was impressive.” I knew I was talking too fast. But, it felt good to discuss Delah, one of the few things from my life in Maripol that wasn’t a disgrace. I even spoke with my hands, an embarrassing habit I’d mostly squelched. I shoved them into my pockets. My excitement in connecting with someone else here, who didn’t judge me, left me with a modicum of hope that softened the harshness of my current reality.
“Maybe I can show you around the elixist quarter and introduce you to the Prime there. She’s taught me everything I know. And whenever your friend visits, I’m happy to do the same with her. If you’re ever bored, I have some elixirs that make you hallucinate in neon colors.” He flashed a boyish grin.
