I had a theory.
Technically, my fire had grown much stronger than my green power, but perhaps I coulduse it differently. What if I channelled my fire as a heatless source, pure energy, to expand the green? It might grant me the deeper connection I craved with the forest that healed me.
Though I had already thanked it, it hadn’t felt strong enough to lose myself to it at the time. It was also weakened by the healing I performed on the Prime battalion.
But now, with all that fire coursing through my body, I felt like a woman reborn and couldn’t wait to see how it could affect my witchery. If my experiment went sideways, I might try to cast a ring of fire around myself to strengthen the connection that way.
The energy felt inviting ever since the dam inside me broke, almost as if like drew like.
Reaching the courtyard, I veered toward the woods that had once saved my life. Then settling upon the earth, I let the vines of power wrap around me, greeting my presence and whispering their welcome.
I breathed my fire into the deep green, filling every hollow, every shadow, with its pure essence. The magic that bloomed was unlike anything I had known.
When my interwoven essences entwined with the forest’s energy, I felt the pulse of life and death, the rhythm of growth and decay, the dance of ascent and collapse, and the ballad of fire and witchery until energetically, I became a part of the forest itself.
It felt familiar, like finding family I didn’t know I had lost. Morning slowly gave way to afternoon before I finally let go, amazed that I did not feel the slightest fatigue.
Making my way back to the castle, I was surprised not to see River anywhere. I assumed he would have informed me if our training plans had changed, and a small, uneasy suspicion crept in.
One step, one calming breath at a time, I approached the doors to his office. Armed with the courage and confidenceborn from my successful connection to the lands, I knocked three times and waited.
The door opened almost immediately, and the king greeted me with an inviting smile. ‘Ava, missed me already?’
Newfound confidence or not, heat surged through my chest and cheeks as I fought to keep my voice steady. ‘I thought we were training you to conjure today.’
River stepped aside, allowing me a view of the room: a meeting between Michael and two men I had never seen before.
‘Actually, Ava, this is about your mother. Care to join us?’ River opened the door fully and offered.
Hesitation etched itself into my heart and, inevitably, my face. Still, I pushed myself forward. ‘Did you find what you needed?’
‘Not yet. This is my friend, Commander Aaron.’ He gestured to a bulky man who studied me with a calculating intensity, as if I were a threat he might need to neutralise. ‘He just returned from a battle on the Gem Fields, where half his team met a fate worse than death.’
The phrase chilled me, though it felt abstract. ‘What’s a fate worse than death?’
‘To live and no longer be yourself,’ the commander replied, the hardness in his voice almost mournful.
My stomach tightened.
‘No longer themselves?’ I challenged them, not understanding what they meant.
Though, as I looked back, only days ago, I had met a man who was no longer himself, and I had witnessed the ruin it brought—Emily’s quiet despair.
‘The Ortensian army have been cursing my people for some time now, Ava. I know you’ve met our brother Blaze…’ Tone solemn, hurt flashed in his eyes as he explained.
Michael’s brow furrowed, disbelief etched in every line of his face. ‘You’ve met Blaze? When?’
‘Recently. My witchery brought me down there.' My voice hitched. I had no words to apologise for the suffering my people had inflicted, for the fathers torn from daughters and the mates separated by cruelty.
A heavy ache pressed on my chest. Heartbreak blurred my vision. ‘I… I don’t even know what to say…’
River inched closer, our hands meeting beneath the table where only we could feel our small embers intertwining, offering comfort and a surprising clarity of emotion.
‘They’ve been using certain gems for their curses,’ River continued. ‘The war was never about the land. No matter what, we can’t cleanse the curses—they use what we call cursing stones, and we’ve been unable to find any information about them. I’ve kept one that they use most frequently.’
Unable to rationalise the Ortensian cruelty, I requested, ‘Can I see it?’
The commander and his companion tensed but said nothing, clearly trusting their king. River opened a cupboard near his desk and lifted a case; green light fractured through glass before I recognised the stone.
