Yet it was even more intimidating, the depth of power more terrifying, in person.
Her shield held as Prince Farrendel’s magic danced over it rather than consuming it, just as Fieran’s did.
For the first time that morning, something flickered in Prince Farrendel’s gaze. “I have never seen another magic interact with the magic of the ancient kings like this.”
“Amazing, right?” Fieran’s gaze was locked on Pip rather than on the magic around him.
Pip’s face warmed, and she had to look away before thoughts of kissing made her lose control of her magic.
“It is.” Prince Farrendel stepped closer to the shield, as if to study the magic in more depth. “How much magic can you contain?”
“A lot, but I haven’t tested my full limits when it comes to the magic of the ancient kings.” Pip couldn’t believe she’d managed to get out a full sentence, even if her voice was still squeakier than she’d like to admit.
“Would you be willing to hold a shield over our practice?” Prince Farrendel turned to Fieran, that hard edge back in his expression. “We have not practiced your magic lately, sason.”
Fieran heaved a sigh and shot a glance at Pip. “Practice, practice, practice.”
His light tone made it easier for her to grin back. “If your dacha thinks you need the practice, who am I to argue? I’ll just find a seat over there and watch.”
She settled herself down on the grass just outside of the bubble of her magic so that she just needed to focus on holding the shield, rather than worry about protecting herself on top of it.
“Speak up if you start to get tired or can’t hold the shield anymore.” Fieran sent her another lopsided smile before he faced his dacha, his smile vanishing.
Prince Farrendel faced Fieran, dropping into a stance with his hands held before him. “Just magic, sason. No swords. Perhaps we can test some of your limits to see if stamina is the issue.”
The issue? Was he talking about that dizziness Fieran had experienced when using his magic?
As Fieran and his dacha unleashed their magic, Pip poured even more magic into her shield. The competing, powerful magics exploded against each other as Fieran and his dacha dodged and ducked, flinging about enough magic to level an army.
And she was holding back all that power. It probably shouldn’t feel as old hat as it was.
She settled more comfortably on the grass, her gaze focused on Fieran. She was his girlfriend now. Appreciating his muscles as he sparred with his dacha was rather expected now, wasn’t it?
Fieran heldPip’s hand as the two of them strode back toward the hangar. His muscles were sore from all the dodging and movement, even if sparring with magic wasn’t as physically strenuous as doing the same with swords.
Better yet, he hadn’t gotten dizzy, despite the amount of magic he’d expended. Although, he wasn’t sure if that proved anything. Unleashing his magic in practice with his dacha wasn’t like doing it in battle.
Pip peeked up at him, swinging their clasped hands. “So…you and your dacha are trying to figure out the source of that dizziness you’ve had when using your magic.”
“Yes.” Fieran sighed and slowed their pace. “While I was in the hospital, I talked with the head elf healer about those dizzy spells. He doesn’t think they are being caused by the fact that I’m half-human. Well, not entirely. He thinks it’s either because I’m still building my magical stamina or that I’m trying to use my elven magic like a human. Or maybe a mix of both issues.”
Pip just kept walking at his side, her gaze encouraging. The rising sun splashed highlights through her dark hair.
“And, I don’t know, maybe I wanted to believe that my human side was the cause. That was the easy explanation. The one I already believed, deep in my gut.” Fieran couldn’t bring himself to look at her and instead swung his gaze toward the hangar ahead. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Because I believed that, I made it so. I don’t know how my beliefs about myself are messing up my magic, but it seems they are.”
Pip still remained quiet, but she squeezed his hand.
“If you’d asked me before I joined the army, I would have said I was perfectly fine with my dual heritage. I was comfortable with my magic and who I am.” Fieran shook his head, trying not to squirm at the way sweat trickled down his spine beneath his fatigue shirt. “It turns out I wasn’t. Not as much as I thought I was, anyway. But I don’t know how to fix it.” He paused and finally met Pip’s gaze again. “What about you? You also have a dual heritage. Yet you don’t seem to have problems with your magic.”
“It’s different for me.” Pip matched his pace as he slowed still further. “I have iron magic like a dwarf, but I wield it like an elf. Perhaps I’m not so torn as you are because my magic is both in the way that I am both.”
He hadn’t thought of her magic that way, but it made sense. “I would have said I was both as well. My parents did a good job of making sure I was raised knowing and experiencing both cultures. I spent just as much time in Estyra as I did Treehaven.”
“Yet you feel more human. Despite your elven magic, you’ve managed to embrace your human side more than your elven side.” Pip halted and peered up at him. “That’s not a bad thing. You are who you are. If you prefer short hair and human clothes, that’s all right.”
“But it isn’t all right. Not if it’s interfering with my magic.” Fieran huffed a breath that came out far louder and more frustrated than he’d intended.
“You were raised in the heart of both Escarland and Tarenhiel. You experienced both kingdoms at their cultural center.” Pip dropped her gaze to stare at the hangar. “But I was raised on the western rail terminal. I merely visited the dwarven mountains and my elven grandparents deeper inside Tarenhiel. While I experienced and knew both cultures, I was never a part of them the way you were. Things are different at the edge of Tarenhiel. We had our own little world where we had our own culture. A little dwarven. A little elven. Even a little human influence thanks to having the human tribes just across the river. I never felt I had to choose between parts of myself. Not the way you did. I was just…me.”
