Ten
Despite Niyx’s claim that Alex had forgotten all her hard-earned fighting skills, when he dragged her out of bed the next morning, she quickly proved him wrong. But that didn’t mean their workout on the summit of Mount Paedris—the peak resting high above the academy and overshadowing Lake Fee—wasn’t brutal. Because it was.
“How are you still so fit?” Alex panted when they finally finished for the day. She collapsed bodily onto the snow, the icy coolness at once both a relief and a discomfort. “You’ve been stuck in a prison cell for the last gazillion years. Your muscles should have, like, atrophied or something.”
He took a quick swig from the flask of warmed laendra nectar he’d brought with him—in addition to the rest of the flowers they’d left hidden back in Alex’s room—and sent her a cocky grin. “We all have our secrets, kitten. But I won’t judge you for wanting my skills. It’s only natural that you’re jealous.”
“Nice to see you’re just as modest as I remember.” Alex sat up and swiped the flask from him, chugging back the heated liquid. Almost immediately, her aches and pains from their vigorous session disappeared, along with the mild hypothermia she’d developed from their early morning, high-altitude exposure.
“Don’t you worry,” Niyx said with a wink. “I managed to keep all the best parts of me. My modesty is just the tip of the iceberg, but let’s not forget my charm, my intelligence, my animal magnetism and, of course, my incomparable good looks.”
Capping the flask, Alex threw it back to him with a roll of her eyes. “How was there enough room in your cell for both you and your ego?”
“I asked myself the same question every day.”
“Presumably while staring at your reflection and marvelling at your, ahem, ‘animal magnetism’ and ‘incomparable good looks’?”
“Naturally.”
Alex couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“It’s an impossible task, given my vastly impressive attributes, but do try not to fall in love with me, kitten,” he said with a teasing grin. “I don’t do inter-species relationships.”
A surprised snort burst from Alex at his sheer audacity. “You’re breaking my heart here, Niyx. I’ll have to come up with a new five-year plan.”
“Five years, huh? Good to know you were giving me a fair time limit.”
Laughing again, Alex said, “For the record, before this becomes any weirder, no.”
“No?”
“No.” Alex’s repeated word was firm even if it was still bubbling with amusement. “Just to be clear—”
Niyx raised his hands in front of him and interrupted, “Don’t worry—it’s clear on my end.”
“Because you know I think the world of you,” Alex continued over him. “But just not… in that way.”
Eyebrows raised, Niyx asked, “What part of ‘it’s clear’ did you misunderstand?”
“I’m just making sure,” Alex said. “The last thing I’d want between us is—”
“Unrequited love?” He couldn’t even say the words without his lips curling upwards. “Trust me, kitten. You and me, not gonna happen. For a myriad of reasons, not just because you’re mortal.”
Alex narrowed her eyes. “I’m choosing not to take offence to that.”
Niyx shrugged. “Hey, you can’t help being human.”
“I’m talking about the ‘myriad of reasons’, Niyx,” she ground out.
“Oh.” He laughed. “Smart decision, then.”
Alex grabbed a handful of snow and pelted it in his direction. He, of course, responded in turn. And that led them to a snowball fight, Meyarin-style—which meant it was fast, it was ruthless and it was unrelenting.
Only when they were both covered in ice—and, in Alex’s case, shivering from head to toe—did they call a truce. Seconds later, Niyx summoned the Valispath and returned her to her dorm, where D.C. was still sleeping soundly from whatever he’d drugged her with the previous night. Alex felt a twinge of guilt as she wondered if Jordan had been waiting for D.C. to join him out by the lake as she had for the rest of the week. But it was too late now for Alex to do anything other than hope he had managed to sleep through the night.
“I need to get back to Meya,” Niyx said after drying his wet hair with a towel Alex offered him.
She swallowed the last of the heated laendra—at Niyx’s demand, since he was experiencing an echo of her discomfort through their bond—and said, “Wait. I need to ask you something first.”
“Better make it quick,” he said. “I don’t want to risk being gone much longer.”
Her stomach knotting, Alex asked, “What happened to the draekons? To Zaronia? To—To Xira?” When Niyx’s expression froze, the knots in her stomach tightened. But she somehow managed to continue, “Sir Camden told me yesterday that there was a massacre. That the Draekoran leader was killed along with—along with some of the others.”
Sympathy washed over Niyx’s face, alarming Alex further. “Kitten…”
Her heart pounding, she whispered, “Niyx, tell me he’s okay.”
Niyx moved forward and took Alex’s hands in his own, looking straight into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Aeylia. Being imprisoned in Taevarg, I had trouble hearing all the details.”
Through stiff lips, Alex asked, “What details did you hear?”
Niyx was hesitant to respond, that much Alex could see. But he held her gaze and said, “I know Aven was involved.” He paused. “And… I’m sorry, kitten, but Zaronia didn’t survive.”
Alex closed her eyes, feeling the weight of that wash over her as she thought about the majestic purple matriarch. “What did Aven do?”
“Again, I don’t know. But it wasn’t—” His throat bobbed, then he continued, “It wasn’t long after you left. I always wondered just how much Aven remembered; if perhaps while he forgot the particulars of you like everyone else, he was still able to recall visiting Draekora with the faceless mortal who broke his heart. Perhaps he wanted to wipe that memory from his mind, and he chose to do so in the most horrific way possible.”
Shaking now, Alex forced herself to ask, “Xira?”
Niyx shook his head and she felt her lungs seize until he answered, “I don’t know. I only heard about Zaronia.”
Alex sagged with relief, since no news meant there was a chance Xiraxus had survived Aven’s massacre. Where he had fled to or how long he had lived—perhaps even if he was still alive—she didn’t know; all she could do was hope he truly had escaped Aven’s wrath and led the draekons to safety.
“That’s awful about Zaronia,” Alex whispered, feeling even more upset at the idea of Xira losing his mother. “But I’m glad you didn’t hear—I’m glad he might still be—”
She couldn’t finish her sentence, but Niyx squeezed her hands, understanding, before releasing her and stepping back. “I know, kitten. I feel the same. Then and now.”
Swallowing thickly, Alex nodded once and said, “Thanks for telling me. And now you’d better get back to Meya before someone starts looking for you.”
Knowing Alex almost better than she knew herself, Niyx clearly read that she didn’t want to dwell on the fate of the draekons—or of Xira—anymore. So he did what he always did and made her feel better, this time by offering her a distraction.
“Before I go, we should quickly discuss Kyia and Zain.”
Alex’s forehead crinkled. “I already agreed not to tell them about you.”
“I’m more concerned with them figuring it out on their own.”
Alex just looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
“I told you last night that I’m Zeltora-trained, but what you won’t know is that each Meyarin warrior has their own individual fighting style. It comes out in the way we execute certain moves, almost like a personal signature. And since most of your more advanced training can be credited to me—”
“—then I’m probably copying your signature when I fight,” Alex finished, understanding. “That’s a bit of a stretch to think they’ll make that comparison though, isn’t it?”
Niyx scratched his ear. “We’d be unlucky. And I did complete my training alongside Roka, so they could just as easily read the similarities between his and my styles as your own take on what he supposedly taught you, rather than thinking about me at all.”
Alex chose to focus on that as a positive—just as she focused on the fact that Niyx had successfully managed to pull her from her melancholy over what she’d learned about the Draekorans. She was still upset by the news, but whatever had happened had been over and done with thousands of years ago. Lingering on the past would do her no good—both Xira and Zaronia would have wanted her to continue onwards.
“Then what’s there to worry about?” Alex asked him, determined to remain optimistic—about everything. “Nothing’s a problem until it’s actually a problem. And right now, the possibility of Kyia and Zain learning about you is not a problem.”
“But if it becomes one—”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” Alex interrupted firmly. “As for problems that do require our immediate attention, I desperately need a hot shower and some breakfast. So, if you don’t mind…”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Niyx said, throwing the now sodden towel back to her. “I’ll see you at dawn tomorrow.”
Alex stilled. “What? Why?”
He looked at her as if the answer should have been obvious. “Training, kitten. You know—that thing we’re doing so you can survive long enough to save the world?”
“But tomorrow’s a school day.”
Those were the words that came out of her mouth, and judging by Niyx’s expression, he wasn’t certain whether to laugh or lecture.
“Wait, don’t say it.” She held up a hand to cut him off before he could do either. “I know that sounded stupid. Just leave before I say something even more idiotic.”
“As you wish,” he said, his voice bubbling with humour. “Good luck with your Mr. Mystery Man tonight. Check in with me once you’re done so I know you survived.”
Fully aware that he’d be the first to know if she didn’t survive, since he wouldn’t either, Alex still nodded her promise. She then watched as he activated the Valispath and took off, leaving her alone with her still comatose roommate.
It was only after Alex had finished her shower and made a deliberate amount of noise while getting ready for her day that D.C. finally let out a huge yawn, stretched and sat up in bed.
Blinking groggily at Alex and still very much out of it from whatever Niyx had doped her up with, D.C. said, “I had the best sleep ever. How ’bout you?”
Resisting the urge to throw a pillow at her best friend in a show of misplaced irritation, all Alex could manage was a fake smile and a half-hearted, “Same here,” before she left their room to hunt down some much needed food.
Alex felt a pang of relief when she entered the food court and couldn’t locate Jordan. Every other morning for the past week, his ‘secret’ sleepless nights had meant he’d been waiting for them with a mound of untouched breakfast and a wide smile on his face. Just how fake the smile was, Alex wasn’t sure, but he was certainly good at continuing to act like everything was peachy—even if his yawns told a different story.
Today, however, he wasn’t anywhere in sight, which eased some of the concern Alex felt about him possibly being alone out by the lake the night before. He certainly needed a proper sleep, so Alex assumed he must have finally had one. It would take time for him to heal from what he’d been through, but Jordan was one of the strongest people Alex knew, and she had no doubt that he would get through this.
… Especially with a tenacious princess by his side.
Smiling inwardly at the thought of her two friends finally being together—something Alex hoped would happen soon—she seated herself at a table with some of her other fourth year classmates: the elementally gifted O’Malley cousins, Connor and Mel, as well as Pipsqueak and Blink.
Looking at the latter two, Alex reflected on the difficult week they’d shared together in SAS class—and not just because of Hunter’s challenging tasks. An undercurrent of grief had shadowed both lessons in the wake of Skyla’s death. The fifth-year girl may have been considered a lofty airhead, but her passing was a tragedy felt by them all—especially Alex and Jordan, who had been present when Aven had given the execution order. There was a gaping hole where once Skyla had been, an unspoken emptiness to their class, one that they all knew would never be filled.
“If you add any more syrup, we’ll have to swim our way out of here.”
Alex looked up to find Mel’s amused eyes, her words taking a moment to sink in. When they did, Alex glanced back down at her pancakes to find them drenched, her plate overflowing.
She made a startled sound and jerked the glass bottle upright. “I’m so out of it today.”
“First-week-back exhaustion,” Connor said, passing her a pile of serviettes and helping to mop up the mess. “That’s normal. You’ll get back into a routine soon enough.”
Ordinarily, Alex would have believed him. But her circumstances were somewhat… different.
“We only had a fortnight off,” Pipsqueak said, watching Alex and Connor try to contain the pool of syrup as it leaked further across the table. “You shouldn’t need any time to recover.”
As always, Pip could be counted on to state the obvious.
“I sure need time,” Blink said, dipping his waffle into the puddle and raising it to his mouth. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned with hygiene. “I spent those fifteen blissful days surfing off the north coast of Mardenia. Such a rush, but I’m, like, totally wiped, even after being back here a week.” He double-dipped more table-syrup. “Or maybe it’s because we’ve been back a week.” He chewed thoughtfully. “How long ’til we’re done for the year?”
“Too long,” Mel grumbled.
“But not long enough,” Connor said. When the rest of them looked at him, he explained, “Next year is our last year here, unless we’re offered apprenticeship positions. Either way, fifth year is going to be wicked challenging. I’m not in a rush to get there.”
As her classmates began debating their opinions and went on to discuss what they were considering doing after graduating, Alex found herself removed from the conversation. What they were taking about, it was all so… normal. None of them had any idea what was going on in the world, what was going on with Aven, and what it might mean for them. They had no idea they might not make it to see their fifth year at all, let alone beyond that.
Agitated and jittery, Alex rose abruptly enough that their conversation paused and all eyes turned to her again.
“I’m just—I forgot I need to do something.”
Pipsqueak raised a dubious eyebrow. “Sure you did.”
Unable to offer an explanation, Alex turned away and called over her shoulder, “I’ll catch you guys later.”
Once outside the food court, she reined in her volatile thoughts by compiling a mental to-do list, heading in the direction of the Tower to speak with Darrius. Halfway there she did an about-face after catching sight of a familiar figure out in the middle of the archery fields.
Wading her way through the snow, Alex made sure to approach her instructor with caution, mostly because Maggie had her bow drawn and was taking aim at a target much further away than any human would be able to hit. Or even see.
“You’re Meyarin,” Alex said without preamble once she was a few steps away.
Maggie released her arrow. It hit the bullseye with a satisfying thwack that Alex only saw and heard because of her heightened senses.
“I am.” Maggie flicked her eyes towards Alex, nodding pointedly at her golden skin. “And at a guess, I’d say you’re the fabled Aeylia.”
Alex’s eyes widened and she stuttered to a halt. “How do you know that name?”
Maggie drew another arrow from the quiver strapped to her back and notched it on her bow, aiming once again. As she did so, she said, “A long time ago, a Meyarin babe was abandoned in a forest and left to grow up amongst mortals.”
She released her second arrow and—thwack—it spliced straight down the centre of the first.
“That Meyarin eventually found her way to Meya, where she was taken in by the royal family who taught her the ways of the immortal race—her race.”
Maggie drew and released a third arrow. Her aim was again perfect, and it speared down the length of the two already in the target before she finally rested the end of the bow on the ground and turned to face Alex.
“Time passed. Not much, but enough for her to decide she missed her mortal family and the life they’d shared with her, so she left the city and returned to them.” Maggie’s striking grey eyes never left Alex as she finished, “She was never seen or heard from again.”
During her instructor’s short tale, Alex had remained frozen. And that was because, while missing massive chunks of information, that was the story of ‘Aeylia’—or at least the beginning part, if not the end.
“No one remembers her name; not her face nor her voice nor, indeed, anything about her at all,” Maggie continued. “She is a blur in the minds of those who happened upon her during her brief stay in Meya. But she left her mark, even if those affected by her time there are, for the most part, unable to recall her role in the events that played out.”
Alex shivered. “How do you know all this?”
“Because, Alex,” Maggie said, “I have been acting as if I were her—as if I were you—for thousands of years.”
A choked breath was all Alex could manage, along with a whispered, “What?”
Maggie didn’t say anything for a long moment. But then she released a sigh and glanced around. Satisfied that no one was in sight, she caught Alex unawares when she stepped closer and activated the Valispath, and within seconds they were inside her much warmer, much more private quarters in the Tower building.
“Have a seat,” Maggie offered as she hung her bow and quiver on the rack mounted to her wall, unfastened her cloak and fluffed out her glossy black hair.
Alex felt numb with trepidation as she stumbled towards the couch in front of the fireplace and sank down into the corner of it. Her gaze wandered around the room, taking in the numerous bows lining the walls and the multitudes of arrows in all shapes, sizes and colours. She catalogued it all before Maggie joined her on the couch, shoving a steaming mug of hot chocolate under her nose.
“I just had breakfast,” Alex found herself saying as she inhaled the mouth-watering aroma.
“There’s no such thing as a bad time for hot chocolate.”
Unable to fault that logic, Alex took a sip of the comforting liquid and waited while Maggie settled on the other end of the couch.
“I only know about you because of Aes Daega.”
Startled, Alex took too large a mouthful and ended up scalding her tongue. “What?” she hissed around the pain.
“She told me everything about you. That you were from the future, that you were bound to the Draekoran heir, that you were human. She also told me your name,” Maggie said. “But until you returned from the holidays shimmering with your draekon bond, I didn’t know Aeylia was you, specifically, Alex.”
“Why did she tell you all that? What did you mean when you said you were acting like you were me?”
“Your story had a beginning, but it needed to have an end,” Maggie said. “What I told you before, about the babe left in the forest and raised by mortals—that part you knew, that part you were there to act for yourself. But when you left, there needed to be a decoy in place on the off-chance someone came searching for you.” She lifted her mug to her lips. “You did, after all, leave a trail of destruction in your wake when you disappeared. But it wasn’t safe for that trail to vanish like you did.”
Alex paled, but before she could say anything—apologise, defend herself, anything—Maggie quickly hurried on.
“Not that it was your fault, I know that, Alex,” she said. “There was nothing you could have done to stop the effects of time and what occurred while you were in the past. You just had to watch it play out.”
“That doesn’t make the guilt feel any better,” Alex said quietly.
“Nevertheless,” Maggie said, “there’s no point dwelling on what can’t be changed.”
Alex sipped more of her hot chocolate even though it now brought her little comfort.
“I was in a unique position back then,” Maggie continued. “I had just completed my varrungard and been offered a place to train as one of the Zeltora, mostly thanks to my skill with a bow. But my family situation was… not wonderful. Neither of my parents approved of my decision to enter the elite guard, and they made life very… difficult for me. My brother was the only one who supported me, who told me to reach for my dreams no matter what our parents wanted. He said he was stuck following in our father’s footsteps, but that at least he’d get to live vicariously through me.”
Maggie laughed quietly. It was a soft, sad sound. Bittersweet. Telling.
“What happened?” Alex whispered.
“Aven is what happened.” Maggie’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her mug so tightly Alex feared it would shatter. “He convinced my brother to become one of his loyal Garseth, and in doing so, he stole the only real family I ever had.”
Maggie’s voice lowered until Alex could barely hear her as she finished, “The day Aven killed those humans and fled the city was the day my brother lost his life following the cause of that tyrant.”
“I’m so sorry,” Alex whispered around her clogged throat, remembering the blood in the street and the battle in the throne room, upset but unsurprised to hear Meyarins had died that day, too. “So, so sorry.”
Maggie shook her head sadly. “I already told you, Alex, it’s not your fault.”
“But it is,” Alex argued, her voice just as sad, just as soft. “If Lady—Aes Daega told you everything else, then you must know I’m the reason Aven went and slaughtered those humans. Which means I’m the reason his Garseth were fighting alongside him that day. Your brother lost his life because of me.”
“My brother lost his life because of Aven,” Maggie said, her voice strengthening. She placed her mug on the coffee table and took Alex’s free hand, holding it firmly between her own. “This is important and I need you to hear me on this, Alex. You did not establish and lead a group of rebels to incite revolution and challenge laws that had been in place for millennia. You did not slaughter innocent humans and coat the streets with their blood. You did not attack your father and brother with the intent to kill them and take the throne. And you did not flee rather than face the punishment for your crimes, resulting in your banishment and the warding of Meya so that neither you nor anyone else could find the city without aid ever again.”
Alex chewed on her lip as she thought over Maggie’s words and admitted, “This is true. But I am the reason he did most of those things.”
“Aven had a choice—just as we all do.” Maggie’s tone was unyielding. “He chose wrong.” She released a shallow breath. “And so did my brother. Now it’s up to the rest of us to clean up the aftermath of their actions as best we can.”
Alex closed her eyes as Maggie’s unwavering resolve struck a chord deep within her.
“I left everything behind to keep anyone from discovering the truth about you, Alex.”
Her eyes snapped back open.
“Without my brother, I had no one,” Maggie said. “That’s why Aes Daega came to me. She knew—somehow, some way, she knew there was nothing left for me in Meya. I wasn’t strong enough to go through the Zeltora training without my brother there. I just… I couldn’t do it on my own. So when I was offered a way out, especially knowing that it could help someone who might one day stand a chance at defeating Aven, I knew I had to take it.”
Maggie looked into the fire, her gaze unfocused. “Loro Eanraka offered me a place as an instructor at his school—at Akarnae—and I settled into a life living amongst mortals. The years passed and knowledge of my race began disappearing from the memories of humans. And all the while I stayed here on the off-chance that one of my own would seek out the Meyarin who had been but a blip on the timeline of Meya’s history, but who had left her mark on the world as we know it.”
Silence descended around them, until Alex asked, “Did anyone ever come looking for you? For me, I mean?”
“No one other than Aven.”
Alex jolted. “Aven came?”
“He has more blurred memories of you than most,” Maggie said. “Enough for him to want to seek you out, if only to question why he failed to remember you, given the normally perfect recall of our race.”
“What happened when he found you? I mean, me. I mean, uh, Aeylia.”
Maggie shook her head. “I never let him find me. Of all Meyarins who might have come searching, he was one of the few who I couldn’t let see me. Don’t forget—my brother was one of his Garseth. Aven knew me back in Meya. He would have recognised me instantly and known some deceit was afoot.”
Alex ran her fingers through her hair. “I can’t believe you’ve stayed here so long, and in the end for no reason. No one else came searching. You could have remained in Meya. Or gone back at any time.”
“There was nothing for me there,” Maggie said, her features grim. “I couldn’t have lived in the place where my brother was taken from me. I wouldn’t have survived. Despite what you might fear, I don’t regret my decision. In fact, I’m grateful for everything Aes Daega offered me. I wouldn’t be here without her—or without ‘Aeylia’.”
“Well, I’m grateful, too,” Alex said, meeting her eyes. “Because even if it wasn’t needed, it might have been. You could have covered my ass a thousand times over and not even known it.”
Maggie’s gaze narrowed. “Regardless of this moment we’re sharing, I’m still your teacher, Alex.”
“… Huh?”
“‘Ass’,” was all Maggie said in response.
Alex bit back a smile, forgetting that, while some of her instructors allowed freedom of speech in their classes, others, like Maggie, did not. “Sorry.”
“I’ll give you a pass this time, considering the circumstances.”
Alex dipped her head in thanks and stood to her feet, presuming their conversation had come to an end. “I’d better go make sure Dix is still alive and not going to sleep through the next three hundred years.” When Maggie opened her mouth, Alex added a quick, “Don’t ask.” Then she continued, “If you’re free in an hour, I’m holding a meeting in Darrius’s office. It’d be great if you can make it.”
Maggie cocked an eyebrow. “Does the headmaster know about this meeting?”
Alex grinned. “He will when I tell him.”
And with Maggie’s graceful laughter ringing in her ears, Alex left the Tower building and headed for her dorm, ticking one thing off her list and trying not to panic at the thought of just how much was left to do.