“What was that?” His voice is ice cold, silencing the room.
Seeing him like this reminds me that his desire for power is absolute. And maybe this is the first challenge that struck him, reminding him that he’s not immune to everything or everyone, at least for a while.
Kirrasia doesn’t have a King or Queen. We’ve always welcomed the combined leadership and guidance from all four Orders, not choosing to favour one over the other. Balance, as is Aslendrix’s will.
But I wonder if my father wishes it were different.
No one answers his question, and I’m intrigued as to what exactly happened before I came in.
“What was that?” he repeats.
“Calm yourself, Orion Ciro,” the Maker tells him. She is the closest we have to a queen, certainly a matriarchal figure, blessed by Aslendrix, although she’s never sought power, only ever supporting and guiding everyone in Kirrasia. To me, she’s more like a witch.
“She assaulted?—”
“She did nothing that you would not have done yourself,” she snaps, silencing my father. “I saw, if only through intent. Don’t forget that.”
“Is she…” Kamari starts.
“Yes. She is. She will begin training fully as soon as Aslendrix grants us her power.”
What did that mean? What is she? But the Maker’s eyes slide to me before any more information slips free.“Did you want something, Aten Ciro?”
I hate when she does that.
As she waits for my answer, the others in the room seem to remember my presence.
“Aten, please return to training. I will be free later this evening if you still wish to talk.” Kamari gives me a stiff smile. “I’ll be in my office.”
I can’t help but look at Father, but he’s still too cross to acknowledge me.
Well, fuck him.
Training can be exhausting. It is designed to test you mentally and physically, pushing you to your limits, both in yourself and with your magic. It is also intended to show you how the other Orders work, how other trainees’ magic works, and how they can combine with your own to form new and unique powers.
It’s why it takes so long, and we have to wait until our own power solidifies through the Transference before we begin.
As kids, Calix and I would always talk about being trainees. We’d sneak out to watch them fight, spar, and witness as many trials as we were allowed to watch. We knew it would be us one day—every child in Kirrasia has the same education and training—it was just a matter of time.
But Calix is still a Warrior. We’re on different paths now. Stars, he could be the next head of the Warrior Order, althoughI know that’s not what he wants. Sure, he’s ambitious, but he’s a fighter through and through. The head of our army, following in his father’s way, yes. But the thought of who will succeed my father now burns in my gut.
Although Calix won’t be granted any position if he can’t keep pace with Ascella.
She’s another Warrior trainee, and she’s kicking Calix’s arse.
The first few weeks of training mean we are still learning and getting a read on everyone’s abilities and how they work with our own. But Ascella must have been holding back because none of us has had a fight like this so far.
She’s countered every move Calix made. She’s fast—that’s her gift—but she‘s using his strength against him because she isn’t going easy with those punches. And I can see frustration rising in Crimson as we stand on the sidelines of the sparring ring.
“Don’t,” I warn her.
“I won’t.”
“Really?” I turn to her and catch the glint in her eye that is all too familiar with her. Crimson doesn’t like coming second to anyone, and that extends to her twin. She will break all the rules to make sure they are both on top.
Ascella twists out of Calix’s grip and plants her foot in his gut, sending him flying back towards us.
Crimson leans over and places her hand on Calix, and the next thing we see is him barrelling towards Ascella at an unnatural speed. He takes her out, sending her to the dirt.
