Aiden lowered his head. “All of that and worse.” Speaking this truth to someone who already thought the worst of him was a risk, but it was also a relief to unburden himself. “For a long time, I didn’t know right from wrong because I wasn’t taught. Revenge was the only truth I knew.”
The men who had half gotten to their feet, blades ready, sank back by the fire, but their grasps on their weapons didn’t loosen—yet.
“Have you killed fire wielders?” A woman with long gray hair and a heavy Naolapian accent wanted to know, and something told Aiden this was truly the only answer that mattered.
Slowly, he shook his head. “Actually, I have a friend who wields fire.”
The woman’s brows knitted together. “Afriend, you say? Must be a closefriendto share such a deadly secret.”
“Like a sister,” Aiden admitted, new ice crystals flashing at his fingertips. “I would give my life for her.”
That seemed to satisfy the woman. At a nod from her, the rest of the Flames lowered their weapons, and they waved him closer to the fire.
“Come on, boy,” she said, gesturing for him to sit next to her. “We could use an ice wielder between all these hot-heads.” With another cackle, she started telling the story of the Flame-born exiles. The last of their kind gathering in the mountains to one day take back their rights. A people shunned and driven from their homes over the course of history. A people the King of Brestolya feared.
Twenty-One
Lory
Three weeks feltlike the blink of an eye when all Lory did was train and sleep. At least she still saw Tabi, Thal, and Jarek during Medica and Knowledge classes, which she had to catch up on with her lack of education prior to entering Ashthorn. It was on the days of those classes that Lory envied Brycon Seine, the knowledgist, who could absorb information out of books by merely placing his hands on them. A practical ability, and one that would have made Brycon Lory’s favorite study partner in the world, had he not been sympathizing with Ricca’s ideas about who should live and who shoulddie in this academy.
Lory hadn’t spoken a word with Brycon since she’d returned to Ashthorn, and she wasn’t planning on doing so now, which left her with no other option than choosing the chair farthest away from the young man at their table in the Medica quarters.
Tabi was stirring a brown paste in a copper bowl that the woman had clearly swiped from the Elixir classroom on the northern end of the building.
“Only one more day until the final trials,” Jarek noted as he watched Tabi with rapt fascination. “We should be going over combat tactics and historical facts rather than brewing salves. Whatever it is you’re trying to make there, it won’t make a difference in the trial.”
Tabi shot him a dark glance that made even Lory shrink a few inches into her chair. She knew very well Tabi didn’t need salves and bandages to heal people, but who else knew at Ashthorn apart from leadership? As far as Lory knew, Tabi’s abilities were classified.
That made her wonder… “Magic is passed down through bloodlines, right?” She took a long look at the various groups of ashlings working on their assignments, gaze lingering on Tabi first, then Thal, then Jarek, skipping over the other blues until they landed on Brycon. “Not every generation shows signs, though. And not every family member develops the same affinity, am I correct?”
“You should have at least the basics of magic down by now, Vednis.” Brycon glowered over the worn table, right past the other students, who were now openly staring. No matter how many times she joined the ashling classes, she was still an oddity there as a Flame and a thornling.
“Of course, I know the basics, Seine,” she shot at him. “What I want to know is if the abilities are watered down generation after generation, or if some talents simply flare up after hundreds of years of potential dormancy.”
That earned her a raised brow from Thal, who was practicing folding techniques for tourniquets. “You mean, you’re wondering why my water magic is so awesomely pronounced and Brycon’s knowledgism is not even a half-hearted hobby?”
Brycon cleared his throat, pretending not to be offended by Thal’s eloquent hit.
“Shut up, Thal.” It was the phrase she’d heard Tabi use most around their water-magic-gifted friend. “No matter what a loser Brycon might be otherwise, his magic is fucking useful.”
“Thank you.” Brycon said it more like an ‘about time someone appreciates the awesomeness of my gift’rather than a real thank you, but Lory didn’t care. Not today.
Despite the good distance she always kept between herself and everyone who’d been close to Ricca, this time she was prepared to have a conversation with Brycon. She merely needed him to be the one diving into the topic first so no one would get suspicious. If anyone knew the books in Ashthorn’s library inside out, it was Brycon, who spent every spare second between the pages, absorbing their content. What she needed was someone to fill in the blank spots in her knowledge of Brestolyan history.
“It’s actually averyuseful gift,” Jarek agreed, “you know, if you don’t ever mean to impress. It’s not like such a magic will get you laid.”
With his left hand, Jarek summoned a swirl of wind, ruffling the pages clutched in Brycon’s hand.
The knowledgist tore back his hands, pages fluttering from his fingers. “Hey, I was reading that.”
“And by reading, you meanactualreading, or cheating, like you do with your magic?” It wasn’t fair toward the knowledgist, Lory knew that, but she was baiting him for a reason, and as if her friends could sense that she needed their help, they stepped in, supporting her endeavor without even knowing what she was up to.
“Byreading,I mean the sort of information uptake the likes ofyoucould never fathom, street rat.”
“Look who’s grown a pair.” Thal howled. Actually howled, like a desert wolf.
“Didn’t look that way when he was hanging, tangled in the ropes in the back part of the training parcours last week,” Tabi added, and Lory wished she’d been there to witness the tall, lanky ashling stuck like in a spiderweb.
