“So, again… why? Wouldn’t a terra wielder building a stone or metal wall make more sense?”
I shrug. “The king has water magic. As did the three monarchs before him. Hence the river that flows along the outside of the walls too.”
“Got it. Another show of power.”
It’s true, most territories have stone walls for borders, and that is more practical, but we don’t do anything here based off practicality. Besides, I like the ice walls. They’re three stories high, an icy blueish-gray color, and they’re beautiful. I feel safe inside of them.
I step past him, done with this conversation and ready to head back to the castle.
“Hey, Daegan,” I say, turning back around. “Sneak up on me again and I’ll rip that stupid stud out of your face and shove it up your piss hole, okay?”
The corner of his lip twitches as I turn and walk away.
Chapter 7
Another afternoon spent bent over old, dusty books, and still no closer to what I need. My back aches, so I stand and stretch out. The hem of my lightweight dress falls to the floor.
As I straighten, I look down at my personal notebook, reading the handwritten passage for the thousandth time.
In the wake of the elves’ triumph over the dragons, when their victory fires had not yet cooled, the witch came to the eternally burning pit of Torrynth. That pit of unending flame where none can reach by foot or wheel. How she got there, no one knows.
There she gathered three relics of power. The first, her own blood, cut by one of fire, was offered upon the stone to waken the flame’s will. The second, the Diadem of the Elves, was cast into the fire as tribute to what once was. The third, the blade that slew the Dragon King, made from their very own, was thrust into the blaze to still its hunger and turn its gaze upon the world.
What words she spoke were not recorded, only that the fire answered. Its light dimming, its breath stretching low across the land until the sun itself was veiled. When the blaze subsided, the witch was gone, along with her the relics. The world was changed. The sun has not since been seen, and the dragons have not since flown.
Three enchanted items were used to create the spell that cursed our land all the way from deep in dragon territory, and I need to find them all. I think they’re the key.
This knowledge is not known to most people, if any at all. It’s believed that the only people present while it was cast was the Elven King Oshenor and the witch he tricked into loving him and following him loyally. Elves live a long time—hundreds of years—but this was before any currently living elf’s lifetime. The secrets have been lost with time, and if I don’t do something now, who knows when someone will try again. The knowledge couldone day be lost forever.
The moment I lean back in my seat, two figures emerge out of nowhere, pulling out two chairs at my table and seating themselves before I can even process what’s happening.
“Uh—hi…” I say to Raef, looking at him with confusion. It’s a small square table with four chairs, and he sits on my right side. I cast my gaze away and find Yara sitting across from me, slouched back with her arms crossed, shooting a violet, hateful glare my way. I’m glad they can’t shoot fire from their eyes, because I’d be ashes right now. Along with my irreplaceable books. Still, I can’t help but feel envious of her purple-hued irises. They’re beautiful. I’d kill for them.
“Hi,” Raef responds with a wide grin. He’s wearing a soft, deep red shirt that match his eyes, which, unsurprisingly, have that same enchanting look of a flickering flame within. This is the first time I’ve seen any of them wear anything but black.
Yara says nothing.
“Can I… help you guys?”
“No. Just thought we’d come check out the library. We don’t have nearly this many books where we’re from,” he glances around at the shelves that go on and on before he flicks his gaze back to me. “Too delicate with a bunch of temperamental dragon shifters running around.”
“But you—” I stop myself. I don’t want to bring up a very sensitive subject, but something tells me I can trust him. I don’t think much offends him. “You don’t even blow fire anymore, right?”
I glance between the both of them, weighing their reactions. Raef’s grin widens as he gives one curt nod. “Right.”
“If we did, you wouldn’t be sitting here,” Yara adds in a bored tone. Her voice is low and raspy. I can’t help feeling a jolt of envy at the sultriness of it. My voice in comparison suddenly feels young, innocent.
“Well, that’s just rude,” I respond. “What did I ever do to you?”
She sighs, glancing away and picking at a nail. “Everything.”
Raef raises his eyebrows at her, as if he’s mildly surprised by her behavior.
“So, where’s your delightful boyfriend?” I ask her.
Raef chokes back a laugh and Yara looks up at me again, this time like I’ve truly struck a nerve.
“That’s none of your business,” she sneers. “And what are you laughing at?” Finally, her ire isn’t directed at me.
