Warlord Arcanist (Chapters 8 + 9)

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CHAPTER EIGHT

ALTERNATE EVOCATION

“You evoke fire?” Adelgis asked, both eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “But… the world serpent doesn’t breathe flame. He has venom strong enough to pollute water for decades. Wouldn’t you evoke that?”

I turned to him, my chest aching with even the slightest of movements. “How do you know about Terrakona’s venom?”

Adelgis held his breath. For a moment, he was still and quiet, but I didn’t understand why he was hesitating.

Fain stepped close to Adelgis and placed one of his frostbitten hands on Adelgis’s shoulder. “Moonbeam has been visiting the dreams of the god-creatures,” he said. “He’s seen all sorts of useful things. Isn’t that right?”

“Given the situation, my information isn’t nearly as useful as I thought it would be,” Adelgis replied in a quiet tone. “I thought for sure I would discover the powers of the world serpent arcanist, but my conclusions are obviously incorrect.”

“Only one conclusion is off. The others might be accurate.”

“It’s nice of you to think that.” Adelgis removed Fain’s hand and sighed. “But… I need to rethink my observations.” He ambled around to the other side of my bed, his eyes drilling holes into the floor. “My father had the magic of his relickeeper to help him identify the powers of the mystical creatures he studied. I only have my ethereal whelk… I can dive into memories, but that doesn’t help me predict future powers. And dreams are unreliable. They’re more fiction than reality.”

Adelgis’s father, Theasin Venrover, was indeed a talented researcher and artificer—someone who crafted trinkets and artifacts. I had read one of his books about mystical creatures and had been impressed by the detail and range of information given for each one.

But Theasin was also a fiend of the highest order. He had helped the Second Ascension rise to power and had even created terrible weapons that destroyed magic. As far as I knew, Theasin had found the bones of the first apoch dragon and used them to help the Second Ascension obtain the weapons they needed to fight a war of nations.

Anytime someone made reference to the man, my blood boiled.

I should’ve killed Theasin the last time we had met—when we had both been at the excavation site. There was no doubt in my mind that the mistake would cost me.

“I would love to help you with your evocation,” Zaxis said, smiling. “As long as you’re a well-behaved apprentice, you’ll be an expert with fire.”

Hexa rolled her eyes. “And here I had been hoping that Moonbeam would be right. I wanted to help Volke use venom.” She hugged one of Raisen’s heads. “I’ve been practicing with it for a while now. It’s a sneaky weapon. Perfect for someone with cunning and guile, like Volke.”

“Tsk,” Zaxis said with a click of his tongue. “Fire can be used in more situations than just killing someone. That’s why it’s superior.”

“Really? Wanna try me? We should go out to the field and spar right now.”

Adelgis pointed to the dark window. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“When has that stopped anyone around here?” Fain quipped.

“It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is.” Zaxis brushed back his hair with a quick motion of his hand. “I’m always ready for anything.”

Hexa half-laughed. “You sound like such a blowhard.”

While I didn’t mind their bickering, my mind drifted back into a state of grogginess. Their taunting challenges and sarcastic statements became a blur of background noise, like the patter of rain on a window, or the howl of wind on a blustery island morning.

Or more like the screech of dozens of caged-up birds.

Raisen moved closer to my bed—careful this time not to knock anything over—and then lowered one of his heads onto my lap. Was he trying to warm me? Hydras were cold-blooded. It didn’t do much.

His main head stared at me with intense gold eyes, the lizard-like slits as thin as hair. “You should get some more rest,” he said, his voice low and gruff. Perhaps he had been trying to whisper?

“I will,” I muttered. “But—”

“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “I’ll protect you.”

Another head lowered onto the bed and “snuggled” close. His necks were so long that his heads moved with the concertina motions of a snake. His scales were curled upward at the ends, however. It made his whole body prickly. How did Hexa pet him without cutting up her palms?

I almost asked about Terrakona, but the moment I thought about my eldrin, I felt he was just outside, next to Gentel. Was he swimming alongside her? Most likely. He had gotten hurt during the fight, but not like me. His injuries had likely healed days ago.

“I think I’ll be okay, Raisen,” I said as I rested back on my bed. A twinge of agony flared through me, but it quickly disappeared the moment I stopped moving. I had learned my lesson. Stay still until I had healed. “You can focus on protecting Hexa.”

Raisen wrapped the other three heads around me in an odd hydra “hug.” I tried not to move, but his spiny scales caused me to shudder. Another wave of pain passed through me once Raisen was finished and had removed himself.

“Thank you,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

“You’ll be better soon,” Raisen’s main head said, flashing his fangs.

I nodded.

The shadows in the room shifted—just slightly—and Evianna lifted out of the ground, stepping from the darkness with a copper pot of tea held in her hands. She offered everyone else a glare as she strode over to the side of my bed.

“I think you all should go,” she said as she set the copper pot down on the opposite wooden nightstand. “Volke is clearly tired.”

Zaxis opened his mouth like he was going to start something, but I shot him a glower. He sighed but otherwise remained quiet. I thanked the good stars that Zaxis wasn’t in a disagreeable mode.

“Pirates have a couple of remedies for people recovering from injuries,” Fain said as he moved toward the infirmary door. “Our ship’s medic would recommend clams and oysters and whatnot.”

Zaxis crossed his arms and sneered. “Are you serious? We’re not going to use pirate techniques to help Volke. That’s ridiculous.”

Adelgis chimed in. “Shellfish have been proven to help those recovering from severe blood loss.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. One of Gillie’s books mentions it extensively.”

Fain smirked. Then he grabbed Adelgis by the upper arm and pulled him close. “See? Moonbeam understands. Plus, what does it matter where the information came from? If it’s good, we should use it.”

“I’m sure Gillie will handle everything,” Evianna said. She placed her hands on her hips and flung her white hair back with a jerk of her head. “Now get out. Volke needs his rest, too.”

Zaxis followed Fain and Adelgis to the door. Once the other two had exited into the hall, Zaxis glanced over his shoulder. “Volke, whenever you’re ready to train with your evocation, just let me know.”

I nodded.

Without another word, Zaxis left. Hexa and her hydra went after, but every step Raisen took was its own tiny earthquake. I felt him leave, long after he had entered the hallway. Once the tremors had stopped, I relaxed a bit, comforted by the soft blankets.

Evianna walked over and sat in the same chair next to my bed that she had before. She smiled as she lifted her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure it stays quiet for a while.”

“Thank you,” I said, though it seemed odd that she just wanted to stare at me, and my face heated. “You can get some rest, too, ya know.”

“I know. But once Layshl gets back with food, I’m going to tell her to get some shellfish.”

I shrugged. “My magic will heal me. We don’t need to worry about it.”

A part of me wanted to be strong—never weak, never needing help—but Evianna had already seen me at my worst. Should I be worried anymore?

Evianna rested her chin on one knee, her gaze on my blankets. “When I lived in Thronehold, we had a whole team of arcanists who specialized in all sorts of healing. I know the Grand Apothecary is talented, but… I wish we were in Thronehold. Once we get back to land, we should travel there.”

I seriously doubted Evianna wanted to travel there to meet with healer arcanists. In my heart, I knew she wanted the security of her childhood home—of familiar people and sights—and she wanted to know what was happening to her country now that her brother was dead.

“We’ll go there,” I said. “I promise.”

Evianna perked up, her smile shaky as her eyes grew glassy. “I bet everyone in the Argo Empire wants to know more about the world serpent arcanist.”

So do I.

But I didn’t say that aloud. I just had to focus on learning the one trick, like Master Zelfree had said. And it seemed that trick would be my evocation.

***

Morning.

I felt the hot rays of the sun on my face long before I fully awoke.

With all the energy of a 90-year-old man, I rolled to my side with a groan. I opened my eyes and found Evianna dead asleep. She had crossed her arms and rested her head on top of them, and while it looked uncomfortable, she also looked exhausted. No matter how slumped her posture was, or how hard the nightstand might have been, she remained asleep.

“Hey, uh, would you mind rolling back over?” a tiny voice said from the fold of my blankets. “It’s difficult to breathe in here.”

I shivered and threw the blankets off—only to grab them again and yank them over my naked body. In a state of confused panic, I simply said, “Whoever you are, get out.”

The blankets rustled as a small creature bounded around under them. The four feet tickled my injured body until the creature finally ran up to my chest and poked his head out, right near my chin.

It was Nicholin, the rizzel.

Normally, I loved to see Nicholin. His little ferret-like body, white fur, silver stripes, and bright blue eyes were the essence of adorable. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood for his antics. He typically brought with him a bag of mischief—or at least a squabble—and I didn’t have the energy.

“Good morning,” Nicholin whispered. He rubbed at his nose like only weasels could. Once his whiskers were clean, he poked my chin. “Your injury looks better than before. You’re healing up nicely!”

“You’ve been—”

Nicholin put a paw to my mouth. “Shh.” He motioned to the sleeping Evianna. “Quiet! Don’t be rude.”

I narrowed my eyes as he removed his paw. In a hushed tone, I asked, “You’ve been here before?”

“Of course! You can’t keep rizzels out of anything.”

With a pop and a flash of glitter, Nicholin disappeared and then reappeared on top of the blankets. His teleportation magic made him a tricky little critter, but thankfully, he tended to use his extraordinary abilities for mundane activities. Or jokes. I could only imagine the havoc he could cause if he were motivated and malicious.

Nicholin stood on his back feet.

He had gotten bigger. When Illia had first bonded with him, I would’ve said he had been eight inches long. Now he appeared to be twelve inches—perhaps thirteen!

He patted his little chin with a paw. “So, when are you getting out of bed? Zaxis is being insufferable again, and I need your help.”

“Where’s Illia?” I asked, ignoring his shenanigans.

“Oh, she fell overboard in the middle of the night,” Nicholin said with a shrug. “She and the plague-ridden kraken are sharing a watery grave.”

“What?”

I shot up into a sitting position, my heart hammering against my ribs. Nicholin tumbled into my lap, his whole body like a rubbery spring.

Curse the abyssal hells!

How quickly could I make it to Guildmaster Eventide? Was there still time to jump into the ocean? How had Terrakona not done anything about this? Illia was an excellent swimmer! How could something like this even happen? What would I tell our father? What if—

Nicholin straightened himself and squeaked. “Hm! Now do you understand how Illia felt?”

I glanced down at him, my head spinning. “What’re you… talking about?”

“She didn’t fall into the ocean, you corn box!” Nicholin disappeared and then reappeared on my shoulder, glitter and a quiet pop the only indications he had teleported.

“She didn’t?” I asked, my heart calming.

“Of course not. But now you know how you made her feel! You were dragged from the ocean with a chest wound! Illia thought you might die. She didn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“You have to be more careful, Volke! If you had died, I don’t know what my arcanist would do.” Nicholin shoved his nose in my ear. I flinched, and he backed off. But then he did it again, like it was a punishment. “Don’t scare Illia or else next time, I’ll bite you in the sensitive bits!”

I nodded. The slower my heart beat, the more I felt my chest injury. With a sigh, I muttered, “I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Good,” Nicholin said with a squeak. “Because—and don’t tell anyone I said this or I’ll deny it—but I would be upset if you died, too, okay? Think about the cute little rizzel when you do crazy things next time.” He stared up at me with his big, blue eyes.

“All right.”

I patted Nicholin’s soft head, enjoying his white-and-silver fur. He felt like a newborn rabbit. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the affection.

Then his ears shot up erect. “Oh! Illia is calling me. I’ve gotta go. Stay safe!”

Another pop. Another puff of silvery glitter.

And he was gone.

I glanced over at Evianna. She hadn’t moved. Her even breathing remained constant, and I suspected we hadn’t even penetrated her dreams. It reminded me of my own fatigue.

I rested back on the bed. Just a little longer… and I’d be fine.

At least, I hoped.

CHAPTER NINE

DESTRUCTIVE EVOCATION

It had taken me a total of four days to recover from the roc’s attack.

I was surprised I had even lived—while arcanists could heal injuries, that didn’t mean every wound was capable of being mended. If an arcanist was decapitated, there was no recovery. They just died. And an injury like mine… Well, I suspected many arcanists, especially weaker ones, wouldn’t have made it.

It made sense. The stronger the mystical creature, the stronger the ambient magic in the body of the bonded arcanist. Will-o-wisp arcanists couldn’t withstand as much damage as a sovereign dragon arcanist. And I suspected none of them could compare to me.

But it still felt weird thinking of myself as a god-arcanist. I had to remind myself sometimes. I felt like an imposter wearing my skin as a disguise.

Before the dawn of the fifth day, I snuck out of the infirmary and returned to my new room. It was located on the first and second floors of the guild manor house. The bedroom was on the second, and the study was on the first, the two connected by a personal staircase. The whole room was positioned alongside the master arcanist suites, which made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t qualified to be here, yet here I was.

I passed Gallus the Gray’s room on the way to mine. A couple of journeyman arcanists—people Gallus had trained himself—were cleaning out his quarters. They had frowns deeper than the ocean, and I didn’t know what to say to them. Hey, sorry for killing your master. He was driven insane by magical maladies.

It didn’t feel right.

I entered my room, found a shirt, an old pair of trousers, and a belt. We hadn’t stopped at a proper port in weeks, so it would be a while until I had anything decent. I’d also have to look into having armor crafted for me…

Something that could withstand my new evocation.

Once dressed, I exited the manor house and went straight for the field. A somber stillness lingered over the atlas turtle. We had successfully dealt with the sky pirates, but in the process, we had lost a master arcanist to the insidious plague. Although the Frith Guild had a cure, we were the only ones. People everywhere were still suffering.

How were we going to solve the problem of the arcane plague? Technically, it was the responsibility of the god-arcanists to find a way.

I shook my head. I had other things to worry about. One problem at a time.

The grass that grew on Gentel’s shell was always lush. Even if the blades were trampled on—even if they were burned—they grew back a brighter green than before. I walked across the field, my gaze at my feet, amused by the way the grass sprang to life behind me.

Master Zelfree and my brother, Ryker, were busy training.

The breaking dawn illuminated the area. I held my breath when I caught sight of Ryker’s eldrin. He had bonded with the Mother of Shapeshifters, a strange mystical creature who few had ever seen. No other Mother of Shapeshifters existed, which meant Ryker would be the one and only arcanist with his set of abilities.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I had heard that some of his abilities were similar to mimics and doppelgängers. I suspected it was because the Mother of Shapeshifters had given birth to them.

And her appearance was just as unique as she was.

In her undisguised form, she had a terrifying visage. She was a lump of tangled flesh, massive enough to hide an elephant between the folds of her pinkish skin. A light coating of blood covered her entire body, much like mucus and slime covers the body of a newborn child. When she moved, her body jiggled and writhed—did she even have bones?—and the sight always sent a shiver down my spine.

As I approached, eyeballs appeared across her body, like they had floated up through her blood and risen to the surface of her skin. They blinked as they focused on me, each red iris vibrant and glowing.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Salutations, Warlord,” the Mother of Shapeshifters said, her voice ancient, but her tone calm. “I’m pleased to see you’re well.”

“Uh, thank you.” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “I’m glad to see you’re… still in one piece.”

She giggled, her fleshy body jiggling. Was she happy or angry? I wasn’t sure if this was the equivalent of a dog wagging its tail or a snake coiling itself for a strike. When she didn’t attack, I assumed it was the former.

Master Zelfree huffed. He slowly crossed his arms, as though even that was too much effort. The bags under his eyes were darker than the sky, and I wondered if he had rested since our fight with the pirates.

Probably not.

“Curse the abyssal hells,” Zelfree muttered, his breath visible in the morning chill. He leaned his head back and stared into the dark sky.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”

“I’m fine.” He sighed and returned his attention to me. “But the doctor said I should be drinking more rum. Also, I call myself the doctor now.”

My brother, Ryker, snorted and laughed once. His hair, black and thick, just like mine, had been slicked back with pomade, and didn’t move even when he chuckled. It gave him a more gentlemanly appearance. My hair was styled by the wind and as free as the waves. It was long enough that it covered half my ears, and I suspected I’d need to cut it soon, if only to keep it from getting into my eyes.

“Volke,” Ryker said. Then he took a deep breath. “Shouldn’t you still be recovering?”

I shook my head. “My chest hurts a bit, but not much. I’m sure the doctor can prescribe me a sleep-aid ale.”

“Do you really think it wise to joke about your health?”

“Better than falling into depression.”

“Well, shouldn’t you rest more, at least?”

“We only have a couple days before we reach Fortuna. I shouldn’t be wasting what little time I have.”

Ryker stared straight at me. We were the same height, which was rare. Few people matched me, and I always took note when they did.

He didn’t have my physique, though. Ryker had the muscle structure of a scribe, whereas I had been training with a sword and shield for years, keeping me solid.

Master Zelfree stretched for a moment. After an odd cracking noise from his spine, he relaxed. “Volke, your eldrin said you had discovered your evocation, but he didn’t say much else. The serpent seemed confused, to be honest.”

“How so?” I asked.

“For a while, I didn’t understand what he was saying. Then Zaxis started telling everyone you evoked fire. That true?”

“Well, sort of…”

“The world serpent has been unresponsive to anyone since that,” Ryker chimed in. “He said he needed to dwell on your path.”

My… path?

I glanced out beyond the atlas turtle shell and focused on the dark waves of the ocean. Where was Terrakona? Most likely beneath the surface. Hopefully he wasn’t upset. I had thought he would be proud of me. Didn’t he want me to develop my magic?

“Zaxis also said he and Atty would be helping you train,” Zelfree said, drawing my attention back to the immediate. “Where are they?”

“I told him to meet me here in the afternoon.” I glanced around. “But I told Evianna to meet me here before that. I wanted to help her with her knightmare magic before I focused on my own evocation.”

Evianna and I hadn’t trained in a long while, and since she had stayed at my side the entire time I had recovered, I knew she hadn’t trained with anyone else, either.

“Your evocation is more important at this point,” Zelfree said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least we have something to demonstrate if ever anyone asks, but fire wasn’t really the ability I was hoping for…”

“It’s more like… molten rock,” I said, keeping my voice low. “It reminded me of pyroclastic dragons. The ones who breathed lava, rather than mundane flames.”

I didn’t need to whisper, but for some reason, I felt odd about my ability. Not only had I conjured the molten rock, but obsidian had jutted out of my body. How was I supposed to explain that? No other arcanists seemed to have a bizarre secondary effect to their magic. What was I even supposed to do with it? Atty and Zaxis weren’t going to help with the obsidian, either. It was just… an abnormality I’d have to contemplate a bit further.

Zelfree narrowed his eyes. “So, the molten rock was how you defeated Gallus? Eventide had said he had been burned, but she never elaborated. Likely because she didn’t want to upset the others.”

“R-right.”

“I suppose no one will argue with the destructive powers of a volcano.” Zelfree exhaled, his shoulders slumping. His hands shook a bit, and I wondered if he really did need a drink. “Once Zaxis and Atty get here, I’ll mimic their abilities and help you train.”

I frowned. “Are you sure?”

He shot me a glare. “I’m your master, aren’t I? This is my job.”

“No, I meant—shouldn’t you be working on your chimera aura?”

Zelfree gritted his teeth. “Listen. I’m going to tell you exactly what I told Eventide after that battle. Auras require a calm mind. I think it’ll take me a bit longer before I clear my system of mental distractions, so don’t worry about me.”

I knew Zelfree had a troubled past, but I didn’t know it had disturbed him so much that it prevented him from mastering an element of his magic. Was it because he had lost his previous lover? Or perhaps it was because his best friend was now a pirate? Maybe something else. Zelfree rarely shared his darkest fears.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” I asked.

Zelfree crossed his arms and cursed under his breath. “No. Mind your own damn business. I’ll handle it.”

“O-okay.”

“I’ll train with Ryker until Atty and Zaxis get here.”

I glanced over at Ryker’s eldrin. “So, uh, Mother of Shapeshifters… You’ve never had an arcanist before, right? Ryker isn’t second-bonded?”

The giant blob shook, and then her many eyes blinked, though not synchronized. Each one seemed to operate independently than the rest.

“We call her MOS now,” Ryker mumbled. He walked over to his eldrin. “And she’s never had an arcanist before. Apparently, she’s been avoiding most of humanity.” He perked up, his eyes wide. “Oh! I’ve been meaning to tell you something, Volke.”

“What is it?”

“MOS was around during the time of the previous god-creatures. Her father, the progenitor behemoth, was the tenth god-creature to be born.”

I turned to MOS—what an odd name—and tried to focus on a set of eyes. It was too difficult. There were too many, and occasionally a few glanced off in other directions. Instead, I stared at a single eye, and asked, “Do you remember what kind of magics the god-creatures had? Specifically, do you know what the world serpent could evoke, manipulate, and augment?”

Mastering the basics had to come first. I’d have time to develop my aura and other inherent abilities later.

“That is a difficult question,” MOS said. “The god-creatures changed depending on their arcanist. Each creature had magic aimed at either destruction or creation, and once one or the other was mastered, the arcanist lost the opposite completely.”

“What do you mean?”

“The progenitor behemoth, when young, evoked both a mist that liquified flesh, and a mist that fortified plants and animals, causing them to become sturdy, healthy, and grow faster than ever before.”

“He could evoke two things?” Zelfree snapped.

The many eyes of MOS glanced at Zelfree. “He lost the ability to liquify his enemies,” she said matter-of-factly. “The progenitor behemoth and his god-arcanist—the world knew the arcanist as the Shepard—mastered their creative abilities. After that, their destructive capabilities disappeared.”

I stared at the ground.

The ancient texts I had read stated that the god-creatures would lead humanity into a new age. They hadn’t said a goldenage, or even a good age. Just new. Terrakona had spoken at length about being the judge of humanity. Had he been referring to my magic?

No. Terrakona hadn’t known what we would evoke.

But maybe… he knew I would need to decide. Would I be destructive? Or would I create? I hadn’t known such a choice would be thrust upon me.

Creation sounded the most productive and helpful. Shouldn’t I use my god-arcanist abilities to build?

On the other hand, the god-creatures came into existence because of the arcane plague. Perhaps it would be most beneficial to humanity if I learned how to destroy—that way I could clear away this vile disease once and for all.

“I apologize if the information doesn’t suit your needs,” MOS said.

I shook my head. “N-no. Your information was valuable. Thank you. I’m just… not sure what I’m going to do with it yet.”

“You carry the weight of humanity’s future on your shoulders.”

What was I supposed to say to that? It didn’t feel like a weight or a burden, but whenever people talked to me, or about me, it always felt like they were holding their breath, waiting for me to solve everyone’s problems with a flick of my wrist.

“Okay, enough chat,” Zelfree snapped. He waved his hand. “Ryker and I have training to do.”

My brother nodded and walked over to Zelfree. Since Evianna hadn’t arrived yet, I stood off to the side and watched. Zelfree’s mimic magic allowed him to copy other people’s eldrin, but he didn’t—or couldn’t—copy MOS. Instead, he pointed to the blank arcanist star on his forehead.

“See, whenever Traces becomes a mystical creature, I can feel the magic change within,” he said. His star shifted and the image of a phoenix appeared etched into his skin. “I want you to try. You already learned your evocation, and you already said you can sense the magic of others—I think the next step is for some shapeshifting.”

“Uh, well,” Ryker mumbled. He glanced over at his gigantic, fleshy eldrin. “MOS only seems to transform into an animal. Well, multiple animals. But still. She can’t become a mystical creature.”

Zelfree sighed. “All right. Let’s move on to experiment number two.”

A twinge of pity shot through me. Ryker was just like me. He didn’t know what kind of magics his eldrin would give him, so he had to grasp at the air until he finally found his abilities. It was always so frustrating, and the moment Ryker frowned, I understood his pain.

“What’s experiment number two?” Ryker asked.

“You’ll transform.”

“I told you… It’s unnerving to think of my body rearranging.”

“And I told you that the abyssal hells will open long before I just let you sit on your ass and do nothing.” Zelfree snapped his fingers. “You need to push yourself beyond your limitations.”

“But what if I can’t change back? What if I mutilate myself and I become a vegetable confined to a cot?”

Ryker feared distorting his body? I hadn’t ever considered that. I had seen Karna transform so many times that I didn’t have any fears about magical transformations. They seemed perfectly safe, so long as the arcanist practiced, I supposed.

The morning shadows around my feet shifted.

Luthair?

My hope swelled and then burst all within the same second. Of course it wasn’t Luthair. It had to be Evianna and her knightmare, Layshl. I turned around just as Evianna stepped out of the darkness and stood in front of me. Like Zelfree, she had dark bags under her eyes. Unlike Zelfree, she smiled when she stared up at me.

“I’m here,” Evianna said. “Let’s get training.”