As a deafening CRACK of thunder split the night, Eydis stumbled, the very ground beneath her feet groaning in protest. Her heart hammered against her ribs, mimicking the rhythmic thrumming of molten rock visible through a fissure in the earth. Crimson lava, viscous and spitting embers, writhed like a wounded beast, devouring everything in its path. The stench of sulphur hung heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid bite of singed wood.
She knew it was a dream, a version of hell described in countless stories, as she walked on a field of dancing flames unscathed. Yet, amidst the chaos, she recognised the majestic ranges, the once-pristine castle now reduced to rubble, and the house crest, consumed by hellfire. The once-proud arctic fox, symbol of nobility and grace, now bore the mark of the flames, its fur singed, its eyes smouldering embers. The elegant "X" formed by the crossed swords, emblems of honour and valour, now felt like a mocking brand, a reminder of what had been lost.
The noble house crumbled to dust, the immaculate snowy landscape being replaced by a sea of red, distant cries of agony echoing through the woods. Turning towards the faint sound, she could discern a solitary figure in the distance, a man cloaked in blood, clutching a severed head. His silver hair streaked with ashes, eyes gleaming with murderous glint. He licked the blood from his hand, a twisted grin stretching across his face. The enigmatic ice prince has vanished, leaving behind a shell who now exuded a savage demeanour akin to that of a ruthless killer. Discarding the remains of his victim, his once loyal aide, he advanced towards her, a predator closing in on its prey.
"You cannot alter what's destined to unfold." His voice echoed, carrying a demonic tone reminded her of the high witch's eerie cries.
A jolt ripped her from the nightmare, leaving her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead, mimicking the rain that had lashed the castle walls in her fevered dream. Captain Robin stood by the bed, his usual stoicism tinged with unease. His presence did little to soothe the knot of dread twisting in her gut.
"Bad dreams?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Eydis scowled, the anger of being intruded on a welcome shield against the unsettling images still flickering in her mind. "You could say that." Her gaze fell on Captain Robin, his steadied breathing was a reassurance that his gruesome fate was a figment of her dream.
Captain Robin stood at the threshold, his face unreadable. "I must admit, Miss Eydis," he began, his voice strained, "I'm not quite sure how to feel about dying in your dream. I thought our relationship was rather...amicable." He spoke in a light tone, seemingly trying to alleviate her inner turmoil.
"Whatever it is, Captain Lionel Robin, there must be a reason why you're here, in my chamber." She emphasised, "…at night?"
"It's...about the Pr- Lady Athena," he blurts out, a flush creeping up his neck. "She, uh, fainted.
A sharp edge crept into Eydis' voice as she questioned, "And what precisely does this 'incident' have to do with me, Captain?
Robin shifted uncomfortably, his hand instinctively brushing against the hilt of his sword. "It seems…your presence can have…unforeseen consequences, Miss Eydis."
What did he mean? Was he suggesting she was somehow responsible for the princess's fainting? The accusation was outrageous, laughable.
"I understand your frustration but...wait, you knew she was a princess?" Captain asked, startled.
"Of course," Eydis response, her gaze sharp. "Anyone with half a brain could tell she's royalty."
Sensing the captain's unease, Eydis pressed, "So you come barging into my chamber in the dead of night, accusing me of what? Witchcraft?"
Robin flinched. "No, Miss Eydis, please. Duke Whitlock wants to see you immediately. He has questions."
He exited the room as she stumbled to her feet, hair cascading over her knees like an unruly waterfall. Sweat clung to her skin, and her nightgown felt damp and heavy. Every fiber of her being screamed for a haircut, for the weight of the past to be sheared away along with the tangled strands. Her long fringe dipped across her eyes, blurring the edges of the unfamiliar room. It was an absurd shield, especially considering the curse's ability to pierce through any flimsy attempts at concealment. No, what she needed was clarity, a return to the sharp focus of Amelie Kruger, a name she hadn't dared utter in front of these enigmatic strangers.
A week since waking. A week of sterile silence on the topic of magic, despite the Duke's daily visits. His conversations steered to politics, history, anything but the thrumming power that pulsed beneath the surface of this gilded cage. It wasn't enough. She craved the library's dusty whispers, the secrets hidden within leather-bound spines. But magic remained elusive, a ghost flitting at the edge of her perception. A frustration clawed at her, sharp and insistent. She needed answers, needed to understand the extent of their power, the limitations hidden within their so-called 'elements'. Factions, she thought, a more apt term than the fanciful labels they clung to.
To Eydis, elements weren't mere magic, weren't fire or water nonsense. They were the universe's whispered secrets, forged in the fiery crucibles of stars. Hydrogen, helium, lithium - the primordial trio that birthed a symphony of elements, scattered like stardust across the cosmic canvas. Life's inception found its root in these elements, nurtured by the Earth's gentle embrace. From single-celled whispers to the grand symphony of existence, we shared a lineage with the first stars, children of the Big Bang's chaotic dance. We were cosmic accidents, yet inevitable masterpieces, painted onto the canvas of time by aeons of intricate chemical choreography.
That was her conviction, a perspective both poignant and poetic. It carried her through bouts of darkness, periods tainted by depression and existential questionings. She remembered wandering through countless landscapes, seeking for a purpose, delving deeper into a world where kindness was as scarce as precious jewels, and humanity unveiled the depths of its cruelty.
Yet, her solace, forged in the fiery crucibles of stars, shattered against the cold marble floor of this magical palace. No longer were elements mere whispers of creation, but tools in a celestial game orchestrated by a divine hand. Humans, not children of the Big Bang, were flawed puppets sculpted by an inscrutable God, some gifted with powers beyond mortal comprehension. Why, if divinity truly reigned, did it allow such darkness to consume its own creations?
An insistent rapping on the door startled Eydis from her reverie. A moment later, Sophie, a maid with kind eyes and calloused hands, bustled in, carrying a steaming bucket of water. The air, infused with the comforting scent of chamomile and lavender, instantly soothed Eydis' furrowed brow. "My lady," Sophie chirped, her voice as warm as the water she carried, "your bath awaits."
Eydis was then dressed in a flowing gown of deep gentle ivory silk, its elegant touch caressing her skin delicately. The suede bodice, fitted and tailored to accentuate her form, is made of a rich brocade woven with threads of gold, catching the sunlight like scattered dewdrops. The ensemble was completed with a braided leather belt, adorned with round-cut clear quartz, a touch Sophie insisted upon despite her protest. Her shoulders were draped with a thick, white fur coat before she ventured out of her room to meet her escort.
The captain regarded her with discerning eyes as he guided her towards the Duke's study - a task he had performed regularly over the past week.
They exchanged greetings with Duke Whitlock before settling in their usual positions in the room. Eydis took her place across from the duke on the sofa, while the captain stood near the fireplace, ensuring the flames burned steadily. She couldn't help but wonder why the Duke had chosen an Inferno-born as his aid, rather than someone of Silverkeep's lineage. Perhaps he sought the warmth the Captain provided as one of the perks. The captain muttered something in annoyance, heat clearly reached his ears, while the Duke continued to regard her with a charming gaze, seemingly unfazed by her teasing. "Her Royal Highness, I trust the news of her collapse in your room hasn't been too jarring?"
Eydis, feigning ignorance, met his gaze with cool eyes. "Your Grace, I was lost in slumber. This news is as foreign to me as the night sky."
The Duke's smile deepened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "No concern, Miss Eydis. No accusations are aimed at you. Her visit to your room was witnessed by her maid, who recounted the incident." He paused, gauging her reaction. The anger that had flared in her heart moments ago simmered down, replaced by a gnawing worry.
"Is the Princess well?" she asked, her voice betraying her concern. The Duke and Captain's calmness hinted at no immediate danger, but a knot of fear twisted in her gut.
"Your concern is appreciated, Miss Eydis," the Duke said smoothly. "According to the maid, Princess Athena, fueled by curiosity, sought you out to glimpse your future."
"My future?" she echoed, amber eyes widening with a flicker of intrigue. "Is that a power of the divines?"
Duke Theomund cleared his throat, smoothing his impeccably tailored coat. "Indeed, Miss Eydis," he said, voice smooth as polished silver. "Though most imperial descendants inherit healing magic, Princess Athena possesses a rare gift – the ability to glimpse the future, not just her own, but anyone she touches."
A memory surged through Theo's mind, vivid as yesterday. Five years ago, the throne room thrummed with tension as Athena, a wisp of a girl, had gazed into the eyes of his fellow dukes and unfurled their destinies. His own vision: unwavering loyalty, a life unfolding like a well-worn tapestry beside a woman with hair like sunlight. He recalled Athena's sudden collapse, her tiny form drained of power before glimpsing the future of the Duke of Sylvanwood. The Princess, it seemed, wasn't yet experienced enough to wield such a potent ability.
"Does she faint every time, Your Grace?" Eydis' voice, sharp as a honed blade, cut through his reverie. Theo admired her quick mind, even as it pricked at the secrets he held close.
Theo forced a smile. "Princess Athena's mana," he said, choosing his words carefully, "is formidable. Perhaps even stronger now."
"I suppose I shall have to wait for the Princess to awaken then," Eydis replied, her voice laced with barely veiled frustration. "Magic, after all, is far beyond my simple understanding."
Theo felt a pang of guilt. He'd promised answers, yet held back the very knowledge she craved. A selfish desire, a twisted part of him whispered, to keep her sheltered under his watchful gaze. To hide her brilliance from the world. Despite Eydis' exceptional wits, she was powerless in this world.
He watched her from the corner of his eye, her brow furrowed in contemplation. Was it anger alone that shadowed her eyes, or something deeper, something hidden? He'd seen her gaze lost in the distance from the library window, a lone figure against the vast canvas of the sky. He'd yearned to join her, to brush aside a stray strand of hair and glimpse the secrets swirling within her.
"It was simply my duty to inform you, Miss Eydis," he said, his voice a hollow echo of his true thoughts.
A light knock on the door punctuated their conversation. Captain Robin excused himself before returning shortly, face brimming with joy.
"Your Grace, Princess Athena is awake!"
"Fantastic news, I shall visit her presently." Duke Theomund calmly stood up, his relief evident in his gleaming eyes.
Captain Robin shifted uncomfortably and apologised, "Your Grace, Her Highness requested a private audience with Miss Eydis."
Great, yet another conversation.
Eydis couldn't help but roll her eyes at Captain Robin's poorly concealed grimace, while the Duke seemed to hang on her every word, as if she had just uttered the most eloquent phrase in the world.
"I will escort you to Princess Athena's chamber. Please, leave us." The Duke instructed his aide, gesturing him to leave them, as he led her to the princess' room.
"I will wait outside. Please inform Lady Athena I wish to speak with her afterwards." The Duke quietly spoke with the Princess' maid, as Eydis entered the chamber alone.
"This has never happened before," she said, her voice a hushed tremor. The words tumbled out as if they'd been coiled in her throat since waking.
Princess Athena was seated on her bed, appearing remarkably put-together for someone who had been asleep for more than half a day. The faint afternoon sun was caressing her golden locks. Her expression was enigmatic, exuding an almost ethereal serenity, saved for the outburst.
Eydis raised an eyebrow. "That's what he said." A teasing lilt curled in her voice. Princess Athena flushed, a delicate rose blooming against her porcelain skin. It seemed, even royalty could be susceptible to her mischief.
"Perhaps we could pretend you haven't spoken yet," the Princess stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "Let me try again… properly this time." She stood, casting a shadow that stretched across the floor like a supplicant hand. "Before I elaborate on my, um, startling entrance, would you… would you extend your hand, Eydis?"
Eydis tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Another impromptu reading, Your Highness? Followed by another swoon on my unsuspecting person?" The Princess flinched, unaccustomed to such bold challenges. Eydis had never been one to bow before royal whims.
A flicker of defiance sparked in Athena's eyes. "I owe you an apology," she said, her chin held high. "But curiosity is my vice, and you, Eydis… you are an enigmatic riddle I desperately want to solve."
Before Eydis could respond, the Princess unexpectedly took her hands, their fingers illuminated with a dazzling light akin to sunbeam. In that moment, Eydis felt suspended, not in space, but in time, the world around her muted and distant. A sense of euphoria washed over her as she stood under the warmth of the energy. However, it was gone just as sudden.
No magic," Athena declared, her voice a melodic whip. "Just as the Duke said."
The insult, masked by regal indifference, stung, but Eydis refused to cower. "I'm well aware of my shortcomings, Your Highness," she retorted, her voice laced with steely defiance.
Golden eyes gleaming with intrigue, "Then it doesn't explain why my premonition magic didn't work on you."
"Premonition? What revelations unfolded before you?" As Eydis connected the dots, the reason behind the princess's collapse became increasingly clear.
"Nothingness." The princess breathed, her voice barely a whisper, "As if you weren't even there, a ghost haunting the edges of existence."
Eydis' breath hitched. The Princess' blunt pronouncement felt hollower than the void she claimed to see. Yet, a spark of defiance flickered within her. Was her future truly empty, or was it a canvas waiting to be painted?
"Perhaps," she countered, her voice steady despite the rage in her heart, "your divine spectacles are simply in need of polishing. After all, even the sun hides behind clouds sometimes."
Athena's smile, a glint of ice in her golden eyes, was anything but reassuring. "I tested my sight on my maid the moment I woke. It wasn't my weakness, Eydis, it was yours. You're a mystery shrouded in darkness, a whisper in the void. Tell me, is that what makes you so… captivating?"
The question hung heavy, laced with a hidden threat. Eydis, her mind reeling, could only offer a bewildered silence.
"Would you like to come to the capital with me?" Athena's voice, soft now, held the allure of a viper's smile. "Perhaps the city's lights will illuminate the secrets hidden within you."
That was...unexpected.
"May I ask why?" Eydis asked, perplexed by the unusual proposal. The Princess' offer felt like a honeyed trap.
"You want to learn more about magic, and I, about you." Sensing Eydis discomfort, the Princess continued, "Imperial Arcane Academy," her voice low and enticing, "whispers secrets even the Duke's library hides." She studied Eydis, searching for a flicker of recognition in her amber eyes.
"Secrets," Eydis countered, her voice a whisper against the Princess' silken promises. "What price does one pay for such knowledge, Your Highness? Besides, His Grace may yet reveal the mysteries of magic, without such price."
Athena's smile faltered, a flicker of vulnerability darting across her golden eyes like a startled fawn. "Trust," she breathed, the word a fragile bridge spanning the chasm between them. "You trust me not to dissect the secrets within you, and the Duke will not disclose anything. The Empire's law forbids it. Magic remains the whispers of the aristocracy, a forbidden language spoken only in gilded halls."
"And I suspect this academy is your loophole?" Eydis leaned forward, her gaze sharp as a honed blade.
Athena's smile returned, a touch too brittle. "You're a quick one, aren't you? Once you enter the academy, you'll earn the credentials to unlock the Empire's vaults of knowledge. A guaranteed position within the court or one of the five houses awaits."
"And of course, such a generous offer isn't extended to just anyone," Eydis retorted, her voice laced with skepticism.
Athena's smile widened, a predator savouring the chase. "The Imperial Arcane Academy welcomes all, nobles and commoners alike. Pass the entrance exam, secure a recommendation from a high-ranking official, and the doors will swing open." Her gaze, keen and calculating, pinned Eydis in place. "Even if you stumble on the exam, my word is enough to ensure your entry."
Eydis's brow furrowed. "Your Highness," she began, her voice low, "why would you entrust the Empire's most closely guarded secrets to someone you can't even read?"
Athena's playful smile morphed into a steely gaze, her eyes like sapphires glinting in cold sunlight. "Intriguing as your future may be, Miss Eydis," she purred, her voice a silken whip, "I see no threat to Alchymia in a woman who lacks the whisper of magic."
Eydis felt the weight of that statement, a stone settling in her gut. Her world, once a simple equation of survival, had just been thrown into a chaotic calculus. "Tempting, Your Highness," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, "but..."
Athena cut her off with a sharp clap of her hands. "Consent, Miss Eydis," she declared, her eyes flashing with a challenge. "I will only test your abilities with your full agreement. No clandestine experiments, no midnight infiltrations."
Eydis met her gaze, her own eyes burning with a newfound defiance. "No sneaking in."
A playful smile played on Athena's lips. "And wouldn't I love to see Duke Theo's face when I whisk you away from his benevolent clutches?"
Eydis raised an eyebrow. "Duke Theomund has been nothing but kind to me, Your Highness."
Athena's smile widened, "Kind, perhaps, but did he ever offer you what you truly yearn for?"
Eydis narrowed her eyes, her voice a low, dangerous rumble. "And do you presume to know my desires, Princess?"
Athena stepped closer, the air crackling with unspoken power. "Curiosity fuels your every breath, yet it alone won't grant you wings. Without magic, knowledge is your only power, Eydis. And I'm sure you are well-aware of this fact, considering your daily visits to the library."
"Curiosity, Your Highness," Eydis purred, a honeyed sweetness lacing her voice, "may indeed tempt fate. But your remarkable knowledge of a commoner's routines is… enlightening." Her words were a double-edged sword, testing the princess's depths while cloaking her own burgeoning fascination.
Athena's smile flashed briefly. "Would you rather be a caged predator, claws dulled by the bars, than a sparrow soaring on currents of unbound ambition?" The princess's voice, though regal, hinted at a vulnerability, a desire to know what resided within the depths of this unassuming commoner.
Eydis's lips curled into a wry smile. "A farm, Your Highness, relies on one wise shepherd to guide a flock. Too many hunters leave only dust and bones." The metaphor hung heavy in the air, a veiled challenge cloaked in the guise of an observation.
Athena's eyes narrowed, a flicker of displeasure flitting across her face. "An audacious comparison, wouldn't you say?" Her voice, though still devoid of malice, held a subtle reprimand.
Eydis met the gaze unflinchingly. "Apologies, Your Highness, if my rural upbringing limits my eloquence. It's merely the best tool I possess in this gilded cage."
The princess's smile returned, a knowing glint in her eyes. "A tool you wield expertly, deflecting a decision you cannot yet make. Take your time, Eydis. But ponder carefully. In five days, under this very moon, my carriage awaits your answer. Choose wisely."
A bitter sigh slipped from Eydis' lips as she stepped across the threshold, the weight of the princess' ultimatum still draped over her like a heavy shroud. On the other side, Duke Theomund Whitlock, a stoic figure hewn from granite, stood sentry with eyes ablaze, holding unspoken inquiries.
"Miss Eydis," he began, his inquiry hinting at depths that Eydis chose not to probe too deeply. Intrigued by the mysteries entwined in his urgent conversation with the princess, she consented to wait.
After a brief interlude, Duke Theomund Whitlock emerged from the chamber, extending a hand with refined chivalry. The grandeur of the castle's corridor emphasised his noble stature. "May I escort you back to your chamber, Miss Eydis?"
"The pleasure is all mine," Eydis responded, her eyes subtly tracing the intricate patterns on the aged walls. While he maintained his usual nonchalant demeanour, a subtle tug of his eyebrows betrayed a trace of frustration.
Hearing her musings, he clarified, "I received word from the Empire a few days ago. The second Prince of the Empire, Prince Adrian, will visit us in a couple of days."
Eydis cast a curious glance at the Duke, her gaze lingering on the intricate tapestries that adorned the corridor, asking, "Is he here to escort Princess Athena home?"
"That would be his main purpose, yes," Duke Whitlock replied, his jaw clenched.
"And I assume you weren't too happy about it?"
"Yes and no, not for that reason." He paused before continuing, "I wasn't too pleased about Princess Athena's proposal to you."
Eydis delicately traced the edges of an ornate sconce, her fingers brushing over the intricate carvings. "She simply offered me an option, Your Grace."
The Duke remained silent as they walked, the subtle echoes of their footsteps resonating in the corridor. He appeared lost in his thoughts. Before Eydis could take her leave, he sighed, "It was my selfish desire to keep you here in Silverkeep. But I agree that your time in the academy would be extremely beneficial."
"I haven't made my decision, Duke Whitlock," Eydis clarified, her gaze now fixed on his youthful face.
"Theomund," he intercepted, the afternoon light catching the glint in his silver eyes.
Sensing the Duke trying to bridge their gaps, Eydis complied, "I haven't agreed to Her Highness's proposal yet, Duke Theomund."
"I will nominate you to the academy myself, Eydis, if you wish to go there. Whatever deal Her Highness had proposed, consider it along with mine." His silver eyes bore straight into the amber of hers, his voice full of resolve.
"That was...an intriguing proposal, Your Grace," Startled, Eydis remarked, her eyes flickering between the Duke's face and the shifting shadows.
"There is a catch," the Duke spoke, his voice low and calm, sunlight playing on the intricate patterns of his coat.
"Of course, there is always a catch." Eydis couldn't help but feel her headaches returning, her gaze now fixated on his glistening ornaments.
"Under my nomination," his voice softened, a balm on her taut nerves, "you are protected as a member of House Silverkeep. But the exam... that you must face alone. Pass it, or the doors will close to you, Eydis. Forever."
The Duke's shoulders squared, his gaze the steel of a drawn sword. With a touch as light as a butterfly's wing, he brushed a loose curl from her cheek, his fingertips sending subdued sparks at its wake. Beneath his lowered eyelids, a flicker of raw yearning danced, a deep well of emotion she could almost taste. His lips, not the Cheshire cat grin that haunted her dreams, softened into a tender smile that chased away the shadows from his face. This was a stranger she welcomed, a stranger whose warmth made her forget the nightmares.
Eydis briefly weighed the two offers. While the princess offered a guaranteed spot, the Duke held out a challenge. Her chin lifted, defying the princess gilded cage. "I accept, Duke Theomund."
He blinked, surprise momentarily cracking his facade. "Just like that?"
"Indeed," she purred, her lips mirroring his earlier smile, sending a triumphant warmth through her. "Your offer was... enticing."
A blush crept up his neck, quickly banished by a cough. "The academy's preparation section awaits, Miss Eydis of Silverkeep. I trust you can navigate it without a private instructor."
"Challenge accepted," she declared, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
He regarded her with a hint of confusion, especially as she left out a chuckle at her own words. "What is a Cheshire cat?" The Duke's expression shifted, mirroring the answer to his own query.
Oh, for God's sake.
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