Fantasy Diplomatic Games

[Gray Sage]

Shiloh’s grace washed over Djac as he greeted the small group of citizens who had gathered. He was only truly acquainted with a handful of them, but the traditional Shilan greeting of touching foreheads soon identified him as a friend, and the number of people wishing to welcome him only grew. He seemed to forget his fatigue in the warm greetings and pleasant smiles.

Having been distracted by the people for long enough, he remember his companions, only to see a group of four young women had surrounded the princess. Two of them had their arms crossed, one picked up a few strands of Alise’s dark hair, lifting it like it was dirty straw. Djac sped toward them.

“היא חושבת שהיא יכולה להטעות אותנו?"

He heard one say.

"זה יכולתי להריח כלבה מים ממרחק של עשרה מיילים!"

Another one scoffed and shoved Annalise while the others spit over their shoulders.

"אתה!"

Djac shouted to the one who had pushed Alise. The princess stood there with all dignity, her eyes lowered, her expression humble.

"אתה יודע מי אני?"

Djac snarled. The young girls glanced at each other with unease. They couldn’t have been more than seventeen.

"כן אדוני. אתה הלהבה הלבנה"

The girl answered, her own expression turning sheepish, two of them even bowing by placing their wrists to their foreheads.

"טוֹב. אז תכבד אותי בכבוד ותרחיב את הכבוד הזה לאישה הזו ולאורחים האחרים שלי. האם אתה מבין?"

They all began to back away from Annalise and the others, murmuring that they understood and giving half hearted apologies. He watched them scurry off, and turned to face Alise.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, restraining himself from placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a somber expression.

“Are you still confident we’ll be welcomed here?” Her eyebrow twitched at him.

“Where is he, I want to see!” A rich voice came through the crowd. Djac moved toward it, a great smile crossing his face at the sight of Jethro. Djac threw his arms around his friend, joining in Jethro’s deep laughter.

“My son, you are most welcome!” They touched foreheads and pulled back to look at one another. It had been over a year since his last visit to Shiloh, but Djac could see the war was weighing on Jethro. He carried a staff to help him walk, his eyes were tired and his hair and beard were white, in stark contrast to his dark, freckled skin.

“And tonight, you will be my honored guests at our festivities.”

“Festivities?” Djac inquired.

“Indeed! We are celebrating my lady bride. Forty years under the sun she has been mine, and this city should be reminded of something other than death for a while.” Jethro added the last part more to Djac than to anyone else.

“Please, let me introduce you to my companions.” He ushered Jethro to where the others were waiting.

“You will remember her Highness, Princess Annalise of the Water Realm.” Jethro’s face sparked in shock.

“I remember the Princess, but you do not match my recollection at all.” He chuckled.

“The deceptive appearance was necessary for traveling incognito, my lord.” Alise dipped into a perfect bow even when she technically outranked all of them.

“Be that as it may, your beauty has not changed.” Jethro took her and leaned in to touch her forehead. Djac smiled. Jethro would not have greeted her thus if he had not meant it. She accepted, inclining her head graciously.

“This is Halvard, one of our Air elements.” Annalise introduced him.

“And this is one of my captains, Goran of Hôlar Nës.”

Jethro nodded and inclined his head, but Goran reached out and heartily shook Jethro’s hand, clearly put off by the close proximity of the stranger’s face. “Greetings to you and your fair city.” Goran said instead.

Djac grimaced at the audacity. Alise looked infuriated. Jethro simply smiled and shook back, like a true diplomat. Halvard had gone pale, looking like he might be sick at any given moment and would not know a pleasant greeting it if slapped him in the face.

“Please, follow me. We will have refreshments and amenities. You must be exhausted after your long journey in the shadows.”

*****

Dusk fell dazzling orange in the west, silhouetting much of Shiloh through Djac’s balcony. He watched it, reluctant to dress for the evening. Still enjoying the quiet of his room, and the brief respite between the shadows and the socializing. The calm of the tangerine sky was almost eerie.

A knock sounded at his door, disturbing his revelry.

He went to answer it, wondering if he should care about only being in his trousers, when he opened it to reveal the princess.

He had not expected to see her, but her appearance was achingly stunning. She wore a royal blue chiton draped over one shoulder, dangling glinting earrings, and a sheer gold veil that draped down her brown curls. She had clearly been dressed for the occasion by attendants, and he found himself wishing she hadn’t been. If she had been a distraction before…

“Can I come in for a moment?” She wrang her hands, a nervous energy that was unlike her. “I wanted to discuss something.”

Djac kept his face placid and opened the door further. He watched her enter and cross the room, looking out of his balcony just as he had a moment ago.

She turned to face him, her eyes falling to his chest.

“Have you truly worn that all these years?” She asked. Djac frowned. It occurred to him at that moment that he couldn’t recall a single time when he had taken it off his neck. It would have been too great a risk of losing it.

“Yes.” He said in an almost accusatory manner. “What was I supposed to do? Take it off? Give it to someone who might have had need?” His words drenched in sarcasm. He wasn’t sure what had driven him to be hostile, but his anger was rising. Just her being there had seemed to set him off.

“No, of course not. I just hadn’t realized what it was that I…” She trailed off.

“I believe you regret giving me this trinket.” Djac said, not longer trying to hide his spite. He had an idea of where this conversation was heading, and he didn’t like it. Illogical as it may have been, he did not want to, could not, give it back.

“That’s not exactly what I…”

“If you wish it returned, by all means, princess, stop dancing around the issue and say it.” Djac took a step toward her, inching closer until he felt full on imposing.

“Djac, you have no idea what that stone means to me.” She arched an eyebrow, clearly getting annoyed with having to go on the defensive.

“Well as it happens, it means something to me too. And I can tell you one thing, if you want it back,” He snatched her wrist, making her gasp, and forced it against his chest where her pendant swung, “you’re going to have to steal it from around my neck!” His voice was a harsh whisper, the space between them was gone.

They stared at each other, the energy between them crackled. His frustration reflected in her face, tempered only by shock. The moment lingered, making Djac’s heart race and his anger rise.

This time, he didn’t ask for her permission.

His free hand slid over her neck and jaw, and the fire erupted from both his hands, sending them careening through that thrilling, consuming, earth shattering state that he couldn’t stop thinking about. Its effect hadn’t diminished or dimmed. Her essence was as potent as he’d ever felt it, and it only made him feel more desperate. Desperate to drink. Desperate to cool. Desperate to drown. The peace he found there was overwhelming, and would be his temptation always. He wanted this indulgence everyday until he died. If the ecstasy didn’t kill him first.

Their knees hadn’t given out this time, but he had backed her against the wall, his hand around her waist, her arm around his neck. If anyone had seen them…

She growled and shoved him off of her. The both of them panting, she stumbled out from underneath him, pacing toward the door, still a little unsteady on her feet.

“Curse you, Djaccar!” Her exasperation rolling off her in waves.

“Curse you, Annalise!” He echoed. His anger had not abated. In fact, it had only been stoked, like she had reached inside the hearth and churned the flames. She reached for the door and slid out into the hallway.

*****

Music sparkled through the streets as the merry festival got started. The night sky blessed them with brilliant stars, and the smell of food and drink filled the air. Jethro had likely emptied his family’s coffers for this event. These luxuries were hard to come by in a time of war, but the smiles and laughter Djac saw on the faces of Shiloh’s citizens was hard to put a price on.

He came to the center of the city where an enormous bonfire raged, filling the air with the musk that only a fire could bring, and a warmth that felt welcoming even in the heat of the desert.

Dancers moved in rhythm around the fire while onlookers clapped, a custom dearly upheld by Shiloh. They had a long history of dances around the fire, each of them a beautiful and unique tradition. Jethro stood by his wife, the two of them greeting guests and well-wishers. Laila was dressed in white, a symbol of benevolence and grace. She looked lovely in the firelight, with a smile that made her eyes crinkle.

“Care for a drink?” Ali held out a goblet of spiced wine. Djac smiled at him and accepted. Ali and his team had arrived a few hours before, just enough time to catch their breath before the party began.

“I would have expected you to be resting.” Djac took a sip.

“And miss this?” Ali gestured to the assembly. “We can eat here as well as anywhere, and our beds will be waiting for us at the end of the night.”

Djac smiled at him. Ali was Shilan. This was his home, and these were his people. He knew Ali’s respect for Jethro ran deep, deep enough to ignore the bags under his eyes. “Let’s not let it go to waste then.” The two of them toasted and joined in the festivities.

They swapped stories with strangers, laughed, drank, ate the kabobs, cheeses, fruits and nuts, and fine breads the Shilans were known for. Finally, they joined in around the fire, dancing with beautiful women and cohorts of brothers. Djac actually found himself having a good time when he spotted Alise.

She sat in an elaborate wooden chair that looked nearly like a throne. She stared at him with contempt, no doubt for what he had done early that evening. Let her. He spun his dance partner closer and lifted her hand as they walked in a circle. When the song ended, a huge round of applause erupted for the musicians and Jethro’s thunderous voice rose over the crowd.

“My children! I have just had a revelation! We are honored here tonight by representatives of each of the four realms! As a tribute to my beautiful wife, and to show that there is hope for a peaceful world yet, I believe we should participate in the Rec’hu Chalabar!”

There was a mixed applause, as half of the people were less than enthused to have the water princess as an honored guest.

“Oh yes Jethro! What a marvelous idea!” Laila exclaimed, clapping her hands. “What a beautiful symbol of harmony!”

Djac looked at Annalise, slightly uncomfortable for her, mostly laughing at her misfortune. She was the only water element there, and she would most certainly be called on to dance. Halvard sat next to her, his eyes on the wine that someone was refilling into his goblet.

“Your Highness, lord Halvard, would you do us the honor?” Jethro held out his hand to Alise.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alise took his hand out of politeness, but the confused look stayed on her face.

“It is a dance, my dear,” Laila answered, “by each of the four elements. We haven’t had one in Shiloh for… well it must have been–”

“Over half a century!” Jethro beamed, leading Annalise closer to the fire.

“Oh no, I really–”

“You would honor us greatly!” Laila said, pulling Halvard to his feet to where Alise stood. “The dance is really very simple!” She gestured to the earth element who had arrived with Ali, who had been sitting in the same area.

“Djac! Come!”

Laila beckoned. Djac’s eyes widened. “No, Vehret Laila, this honor should be given to Shiloh’s leader!” Djac waved his hands, regretting his inner mocking of Alise’s predicament.

“You are our honored guest, I will hear of nothing else!” Laila positioned the others side by side, an almost palpable excitement in her eye, and Djac contemplated just how much disrespect he would be showing if he refused. He trudged his feet across the sand to go stand beside Annalise.

He avoided looking at her as Laila joined Halvard and the earth element’s hands, then took Alise’s hands and crisscrossed them with Djac’s. Her touch set his nerves on edge. He watched Laila’s feet, showing them the steps to the dance around the fire, trying to focus on anything else. He knew this dance. It was a variation to other common group promenades. With any luck, he’d spare himself and Alise from embarrassment.

Soon enough, Laila clapped and removed herself, queuing the musicians to start playing. It was a slower song, and Djac waited until the singing started before taking the first step. The crowd watched them as they began their verses, all of them singing in the native Shilan. It was haunting and meaningful and intimate. All the voices raised together almost made the musicians hard to hear, but he didn’t lose his timing.

The four of them began to walk around the fire in unison, to the rhythm, and Djac found it harder and harder to keep his mind on the dance instead of the partner at his side. He wondered what she was thinking about, other than their steps. He wondered what she had felt when they connected again. If it scared her the way it scared him. The two of them turned toward each other as the steps demanded, and he looked into those falsely brown eyes, which still had the same power over him as when they were an icy blue. They turned away again, walking in unison.

They neared the end of their third circle around the fire, as the third verse of the song was ending, and Alise and Djac turned toward one another for the final time, holding their gaze as the prolonged note from the crowd swelled for the end of the song. He searched her expression for some discernible hint of what was going on behind those eyes. But all he could find was a sadness.

The crowd applauded and Laila came toward them with the biggest clapping of all. “Thank you all! She tittered, “You have blessed this space, and I believe we are closer than ever to peace–”

An arrow streamed across them, and burrowed in Laila’s chest, staining her white dress with crimson. A scream rang out as chaos erupted, arrows flying from every direction, hitting the citizens as the crowd began running everywhere.

Djac scooped up the fire and shot it through the air, hurdling it toward the rooftops where the attackers were no doubt perched. The fire ripped across the roofs, torching them in a blazing tidal wave, causing four, six, ten archers to fall to their fiery deaths.

Soon enough, infantry stormed through the streets, their shamshirs slicing through innocent people as they moved.

“Ali! They’ll be coming from the north!” Djac shouted to his friend who nodded and took off running.

“Jethro, we need to–” a soldier came upon Djac with a warrior’s shriek, but froze, literally froze, mid swing as ice crawled up his body, and his lips turned blue. Djac looked to Annalise who had already moved on to another soldier. Djac turned to Jethro. He held a pale Laila in his left arm, his right shoulder had an arrow protruding from it. Other than stunned silence, Jethro appeared stable.

Djac, rushed to the aid of another fire element, a Shilan, whose skill with a blade was outmatched by the soldier who was fighting him, until Djac summoned hot coals to seer into the soldier’s eyes. The soldier collapsed with screams of pain, and Djac pulled the fire element to Jethro.

“Get him to safety!” Djac commanded before turning to a group of who rushed toward the Shilan leader, swords raised.

A blast of fire and ice shot at them with the force of a battering ram as Djac and Annalise turned their power toward them. The five of them fell dead from the force. Alise turned to find her next kill, but Djac took her arm.

“Alise! Sing!” An arrow whooshed passed them, grazing Djac’s shoulder. He shouted in pain, and immediately turned to take out the shooter, a bolt of blue flame erupting from his fingertips and into the man’s forehead.

“Sing! NOW! END THIS!” Djac shouted, moving again to a pair of soldiers who were attacking one of Jethro’s men. The two collapsed, just in time for Djac to miss a swing from a shamshir.

Djac maneuvered his hands, throwing fire like rocks at his attackers. The man caught fire and began running and screaming for cover. Djac turned and looked at Annalise who looked tormented in conflict. He knew the sacredness of her voice. He knew what he was asking and how almost sacrilegious it would be if she opened her mouth to control all these people. But it had to be done… or they would quickly be overwhelmed. He moved his lips, not even able to bring himself to say it.

Please.

 

[_Annalise_]

She hadn’t blamed them. The girls who spouted ‘gods knew what’ at her earlier. Growing up amidst war had to be horrific. You could not trust any stranger in these times, least of all a foreigner.

It was hard to be angry at anyone here really, in the fire realm. Ann stared at herself in the mirror after the attendants had assisted her in dressing and finally left. She remembered a fire having began in the earth realm once. A small band of them had made camp deep within an old wood. They were so hungry and Ann had thought they were safe from one of Aeolus’s scouting parties so they could chance catching a rabbit. One of the men had fallen asleep and a sound had startled him awake, causing him to kick one of the embers from the fire. The flames had caught the nearby leaves quickly. It had almost grown out of hand and would have, if one of the foundlings hadn’t sent a wave of earth to smother it.

Ann had walked the edge of it later, when she had found a tiny haze of smoke floating up from the earth. Upon inspection, she had found a little flame that had survived. If she hadn’t stumbled upon it, it would have spread again. These people were like that. You could drive them out, smother them, kill them, but leave one spark, and it would just keep spreading. How could one not admire that?

Squinting at herself, she could almost pretend she might be a fire element. Almost.

“You are as pretty as the stories told.”

Starting, Ann very nearly upended a jar of kohl as she whirled to face the visitor.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I hadn’t meant to alarm you.” The woman came further within and shut the door. “I did knock..I thought maybe you might need some assistance.”

What was wrong with her? Daydreaming and completely missing the knock to the door. Trying to recover, she forced a tense smile. “Please. There is no apology needed. I was merely…ah…”

“Resting, as you very well deserve. I should leave you be, but I wanted to meet you for myself, I am Laila.”

Oh, well that wasn’t surprising. The woman was absolutely stunning. There was the barest hint of silver threaded through her hair, and the knowing wisdom that shone in the depths of her dark eyes only added to her allure. There was a deep rosy color to her cheeks that bespoke of her excitement of the day, and Ann could tell she was well loved, and loved deeply in return. It was hard to hide such. And very rare to see these days. Dipping into a respectful curtsy, her smile turned genuine.

“My lady, my deepest gratitude for your warm welcome of our group.”

“Bah.” Laila waved her off and stepped forward, taking her hands and touching her head to her own.

Ann couldn’t help but to take an instant liking to her.

“Here, let me take a look at you.” Stepping back, Laila gave her an appraising look over and nodded, looking well pleased. “I knew that color would suit you. The men will not be able to keep their eyes off of you.”

Flushing, a nervous laugh escaped her lips. “You are very kind. But I think you will well steal the hearts of all there.”

The woman’s eyes crinkled and she motioned to a settee. “May we?”

“Of course.”

Sitting, Laila drew her down beside her and paused a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts before speaking. “I simply…wanted to say thank you.”

Startled, Ann could only stare. Whatever she thought Laila was going to speak of, this wasn’t it. “My lady?”

“Laila. Please.”

Her head dipped in acquiescence. “Laila.”

“I…I understand, more than most, what it takes to go against ones family, and ones way of life. What that does to someone.”

Ann listened quietly, not interjecting at the womans pauses.

“My family was not…well, they liked being powerful. And they did what was needed to garner that power. I was born to marry a Sheik.”

Her eyes widened. “THE Sheik?”

Laila’s lips twitched at her horrified expression. “The very one. As you can see, it did not go as planned, but between then and when I married Jethro, there was a lot of anger over the promise being broken, threats of war, deaths…” Her eyes clouded with memory, a brief glimpse of regret flashing over her features before she gave a sigh and smiled again, patting Ann’s hand. “I didn’t mean to drone on, but I just wanted you to know, if you need to talk to anyone while you are here, I do understand a little.”

Something within her shifted, and Ann softened. It had been a long time since someone had talked to her as a friend. “Thank you Laila.”

Touching her cheek, Laila glanced towards the window and rose with a start. “Jethro will be wondering where I am. But let’s visit again before you leave, yes?”

Nodding, Ann rose with her. “I would like that.”

Laila walked to the door and opened it, but hesitated a moment and glanced back. “What made it worthwhile was Jethro.”

Their eyes met.

“Through it all. Through the days I thought I wouldn’t survive it…Jethro was always there to help me through it. It is alright to need someone, you understand. You deserve happiness too.”

She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at the door after Laila had left, but she had a sudden, desperate need to see Djac, to talk with him, to tell him the truth, that she found herself knocking at his door.

Ann should have known it wasn’t a good idea.

It was always like that with them. Like drawing in your first breath of air after having dove deep within the water. A desperation to feel that connection. Then heat, and anger, because the desperation had nowhere to go. And he was just so. damn. maddening!

He wouldn’t even stop and listen to her. It was like being pulled by a current into a whirlpool, circling round and round with nowhere to go except deeper and deeper within the dark depths. Djac was going to make her drown.

But once she was there, once she had been caught, there was no will to swim anymore, to fight her way back to the surface. She sank willingly, caught up in the warmth of the flame. She was always so cold, and he was the only one that could bring the warmth back into her soul.

Ann was damned and she didn’t care. She wanted it to consume her, she didn’t want to come back from it. Except…except…she was going to drag him down with her. He didn’t deserve that. Enraged by the thought, she had shoved him. Cursed him and walked away. It was either that or damn them both. And where she was going, he couldn’t follow.

Everything that happened after that was a blur. She should have known that hell would have finally caught them. Their luck had run out.

—--

Torment. Two separate parts of herself ripping away from one another. Or perhaps one had just hidden itself away, down into the dark recesses of her mind where all past horrors lived. Either way, she both lost and found herself with one unspoken word after the fighting had begun and they both realized that it was going to take something more to beat them back.

‘Please’

And suddenly she knew why her mother could never have given herself fully to her father. Why she had acted so impulsively, a decision that would cause her father to hate her until her last breath was drawn. Ann could no more deny his urgent plea than she could cease her blood to run through her veins.

Later, she might convince herself that it was the horror of the moment that made her act, to do what was right for the people of the city that had been in a beautiful celebration just moments before, but then, she had never been great at lying to herself.

‘Please’

Such a simple word, such a huge request. Drawing in a breath, she turned from him, her heart thundering so loudly in her chest that it drowned out much of the panicked screams around her. Her hands lowered as she bent, dipping them towards the ground, fingertips skimming the warmth of the earth. She drew upon the energy there, reaching deep below the ground to where she knew it lay. Dormant. Ever waiting.

There. Once she caught those ancient threads, her body rose again, and a deep hum began to pull it upwards.

A sopranic note pierced the air, followed in succession by sounds that seemed guttural, and frighteningly feral. A siren’s ancient call in a language long since lost. It played on one’s nostalgia, swept them towards days of innocence and dreams. The siren within her called them to rest. To surrender. To kneel. The power of it was, even to herself, a heady, dizzying spell, and she registered a small amount of trepidation at the unfamiliar power she felt swirling within her, like fires being fed.

Her vision narrowed, focusing. There was only one other that she was hyper aware of being nearby, and then, only because an inner part of herself seemed to draw upon his presence. Seeking an anchor for what would otherwise have swept her away. Was this what it was like? It had been years since last she had sung. The final time had been at Nikolas’s funeral. There had been a worry there that it had been lost, never to be called upon again, and the knowledge that she may very well be the last of the siren’s had only cemented that thought. In front of her, soldiers hesitated, her voice seeping into their minds, clouding their judgment, a deadly mistake in the heat of battle as flame and sword met the vulnerability in a deadly clash.

A touch to her arm sent flames leaping up her skin but didn’t break concentration. Instinctively she knew there would be only one to approach her like this. He motioned past buildings, where another hoard of her brethren rose like a wave about to crash down upon them. One breath. Then two. Her mind mapped out their location, her hand clamping down on Djac’s like a vise, pulling, combining strengths and then allowing it to release. Her right hand swiped down and then shot upwards towards the horizon. Icy flames burst forth with deadly, razor sharp points, splitting the earth and racing towards the descending enemy to scatter them.

Fingers dropped from his, rising and falling in intricate movements, her voice lifting again. Horses, sleek and cold, burst from the ground beneath her hands, rising and growing, galloping towards those she was focused on, a mimic of her song echoing amongst them in a dizzying effect. With wild eyes, the creatures leapt over the innocent and crashed into screaming water elements.

She worked in tandem with Djac pulling on soldiers to drop to their knees one after the other, sword and song, blood and mercy, until the tide began to abate. Djac reached out to her, motioning that he was going to follow up with his scouts, and she briefly nodded, assuring him that the rest of their teams could flush out the remaining enemy. Their eyes met, not needing to say the words to know what they each were saying. ‘Don’t do anything idiotic. Don’t die.’

When the smoke began to clear and it became clear that they had gained the upper hand, it was all she could do to not drop to her knees. Exhaustion made her sway, and she closed her eyes, taking a moment to brace herself. Sleep would have to wait. There was still so much to be done. Goran ran up to her and clasped her shoulder, peering at her face in question. All she could do was nod. “We need to take stock of who is left of the team and then make sure our earth physicians are taken to wherever the wounded are.”

He nodded and left, calling orders as he ran.

What seemed like hours later, she paused to wipe the dampness from her brow, and turned as someone called for her. One of Djac’s. Ali, she remembered his name was. And, if she recalled, not one of her biggest supporters either.

“You need to come.” A hand was held out to her, his voice stiff.

Alarm had her tensing. “Where is Djac?” Nothing could have happened. Frantically she worked through the thoughts casting through her mind. She would have known, wouldn’t she?

Ali tsked with impatience and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the shadows with him.

If she had thought it was unpleasant before, it was doubly so with someone leading her other than Djac. Stumbling, she muttered a curse and felt his grip tighten.

“Keep up! If I lose you in here, Djac will no doubt flay me alive.”

Her lips twisted in dark amusement. “Might be worth it to see.” Ann couldn’t help but quip back. She thought she heard him snort as he finally pulled her towards a dim speck.

Stepping out of the shadows, she squinted, trying to get her bearings and realized that they were in a camp. Scanning the bodies that littered the ground, her heart wrenched. Many of the faces were familiar, people she had grown up with, played with, had lessons with. Attempting to breathe through her mouth, she followed Ali past them, and towards a tent near the middle where a pair of fire elementals stood, guarding the entrance, their own gazes unreadable.

Upon entering, she almost sagged in relief, catching sight of Djac, a blue flame held in the palm of his hand, his attention upon a prisoner before him. He was covered in blood but her eyes swept over his form, calculating his stance, the color of his features, as well as his control, and ascertained that if he was wounded, it wasn’t life threatening. Satisfied, she lowered her eyes to the one being held. His head was bent, chest heaving, but as Ali stepped around her to resume his place, the man’s gaze lifted and met her own.

Surprise lifted his brows, and then, slowly, dawning realization as she made no move to defend or help him.

“Lord Thorgaut.” Her tone was without inflection, flat…emotionless. He was a close friend of her fathers. She had grown up with his sons and his wife had helped tutor her. Ann was sure those thoughts were running through his head at that exact moment as well. It had to be maddening to be the captive of one you once considered as close as a daughter.

“Svikari!” He spat, rage mottling his fair features.

Two other fire elementals held him kneeling, keeping him from lunging. Ann wondered at the blankness of her thoughts. Was it her mind protecting herself, or what it that she finally was realizing the depravity of her kind, and their emotions no longer affected her.

Djac came to stand beside her, his own mouth set into a grim line and bent his head to speak with her. “He won’t talk.”

Her body looked away from her kinsman, turning her attention towards the one beside her and assessing him quietly. She could feel his body fairly vibrating with suppressed adrenaline and anger. He wanted to act. He wanted it ended. If it was any other time, perhaps she would find a teasing pleasure in suddenly realizing a stark difference between the two of them, his fiery passion and her careful calculations. But in this, she supposed she could understand the need to act quickly. Ann gave a hum of understanding. It was why Ali had been sent to fetch her.

“I pray to the sea that the Lady Iris, finds out what kind of whore you truly are.”

A chill spread through her, cutting through her thoughts and turning her towards their captive. Ann could tell by the way he was looking at them, what kind of relationship he thought they had. But that currently, was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Iris?”

“Is Augustine with you as well? Let me see that bastards face before I die so that I may tell him what he has done to his wife!”

Ann felt the blood drain from her face. Iris was alive. Her world tilted.

Thorgaut stared harshly at her before laughing maniacally, blood staining the pearly whites of his teeth. “Oh, he’s dead then?!” his tone was corrosive. “What will she think when she finds out her dearest friend is fucking his killers.”

In the corner of her eye she saw Djac start to move forward, but she grabbed his elbow, shaking her head to stop him. They couldn’t afford to let words affect them. Not now. They needed any information he had. Ann saw his jaw clench and release, but he held himself in check. Thank gods.

She slowly drew close to the captive. “He committed treason. They did not kill him, Thorgaut…I did.'' Allowing the silence to stretch, she waited until the truth began to register.

“You…bitch.”

Lifting a brow, Ann regarded him coolly. “After all the people my father has murdered, you are surprised that I would allow a follower of his to go free?”

“You will never be Queen. Our people will never follow you. If you continue this..this rebellion, they will turn their backs on you even if you succeed with your treachery.”

That had already occurred to her, despite what Goran and the rest of her followers said. She was working to change their entire way of life. If she won, their whole realms very existence would change, everything that they were known for, had worked for, would cease to exist. That paired with the fact that she was killing her own…well…she could imagine that there would be many who wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing her on the throne, whether they agreed with her or not. It couldn’t be helped. She never wanted it anyway.

Leaning down, she stared him down. “Let me make myself very clear, now that you understand I’m not the naive little girl my father and the rest of his council sent out to slaughter in order to give reason to your senseless genocide. If I must, I will burn down every inch of the water realm in order to win this war.” The siren within her followed up with a threat of it’s own, and one that Ann had yet to even admit to herself as truth. If they happened to make the mistake of killing Djac, she would make sure every last one of them was tortured first. Her soul wouldn’t exist anymore. Nothing would matter.

His eyes narrowed. “You cannot…”

“Quiet”. It was whispered, the single syllable tinged with a siren’s command that was to be obeyed.

He stilled, slack faced and compliant.

Her gaze was kept upon him intentionally. She had discovered a way to focus the vocal threads in specific directions, to specific targets. It took more concentration, more use of strength, but Ann had found it was one of the positive things about Djac being close. The power behind it came at a less exhausting price. “Why are you here?”

“It was commanded of us.”

The answer was quick and fluid. He wasn’t fighting it. Ann filed that knowledge away to dissect later. “Was the attack planned or unintentional?”

“Planned.”

She swallowed down a wave of alarm.

“Does my…does the King know we are here?”

Silence.

Her breath caught. Fingers curved under his chin, pulling his dull gaze up to hers. There was a spark of defiance and she felt a panicked anger curl deep within her belly,

“Does the King know we are coming?” the words were forceful, a harsher thread of command within the tone.

“...He…will…” an eerie smile crept over the water captain's face.

“How?”

There was no answer. Ann had to control herself to not slit his throat right then and there.

“How Thorgaut!”

“Boom!” He laughed. “Boom Boom BOOM!”

Letting his face go, Ann forced her body not to shake as she stepped back, breaking the trance and turning her back on him so that he wouldn’t see her expression. Her eyes met Djac’s.

“We need to get out of here.” A hand wrapped around his wrist as she stepped towards him. There was a panic welling inside of her and she couldn’t figure out why. All she knew was that they needed to leave. Now.

Beneath her, she felt the ancient waters so far below stir in warning. “Get in the shadows! Go NOW!” Around them ear splitting blasts began to shake the earth and Ann heard herself scream as their bodies lifted from the ground.

 

[Gray Sage]

Djac looked down at the prisoner as Alise addressed him. Her calm demeanor unnerved him. His anger could have set fire to the sands, but she stood there, collected and still, delivering her words like clear cut glass. It was almost hypnotic.

But Thorgaut's insult had been the last straw. Rage boiled over at the suggestion that he had planted in all their minds. He would burn this man’s flesh off his bone! He would– a cold hand touched his arm and held him back. Strange how she could do that. His bloodlust had been stirred from the battle. It still surged through his veins. Yet, he bowed to her command. He wondered if he would bow to her every command.

He watched her as she continued to interrogate the snake. And her calculating threats seemed to build in brutality. However calm and rational she was, when paired with the assurance of annihilation, she was eerie. Unsettling. Downright sadistic.

“If I must, I will burn down every inch of the water realm in order to win this war.” The hair stood up on Djac’s arms. He believed her. The coldness in her voice was unmistakable. And it worried him.

He was nearly distracted by it as the questioning continued. But the heightened tension around them snapped back his focus as he perceived the threat, feeling it rolling off her in waves. As she grabbed his wrist and demanded they needed to leave, he had the strangest feeling that they had been here before.

“Get in the shadows! Go NOW!” He cursed himself for being a moment too late. Just a split second. If his step into the shadows had come just a hair earlier, they would have been safe, and still, and motionless. But as it was, the water had burst forth from the ground at the exact time he let the shadows embrace them, and caught between the two realms, the water spilled over to follow them into the darkness, and knocked his feet off balance, sending them careening through the abyss.

He reached for her, taking a hold of her forearm with such ferocity he might have left bruises, but he pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest. He started forming his thoughts to make sense of the chaos and slow the madness. His mind harnessed the darkness around them, and their plunge into the void slowed until they came to a stand still.

Just as they found their footing again, he dared to open his eyes. There were a few lights in the distance, possible portals of escape, and he sighed with relief.

“Are you alright?” He asked Alise, whose face was buried in his chest. She was trembling. “Alise, are you alright?” she took a moment, he could just follow her eyes in the dimness. She seemed to be looking through him in shock.

“I am unharmed.” Her words were so exacting, so precise, that he realized she was not in shock. She was rageful.

“Hey,” He took her face in his hands. “Save that for later. For now, we’ve got to focus on getting back. Now are you with me?” She steeled herself.

“Yes.” She determined. He nodded and moved his hand down to her hand, where they interlocked fingers, and began wading through the shadows.

They stepped into the first patch of light they came to, bringing them to the humid jungle in the south. Djac took a look around them, trying desperately to recognize something, but coming up lost.

He had them step back into the shadows, moving to the next portal. Again they were taken into a plot of wilderness, this time stretching out for miles in every direction of endless, dry grassland, and he still had no idea where they were.

Clawing back through the shadows, choosing another one of the portals, then stepping into the light. They landed high on a mountaintop where the air was thin and freezing.

Back into the darkness. Back into the light. Void. Portal. Abyss. Wilderness. Again and again, until they were running out of options. Panic was beginning to creep up his neck as they could not find a spot he recognized, but he swallowed it. It was a personal theory of his that if fear began to invade your mind in the shadows, it would only make your path more hidden, until the darkness consumed you from the inside.

When they emerged again, they were surrounded by a sea of tall, rolling dunes. The middle of the desert with no landmarks in sight on the twilit horizon. Djac groaned in exhaustion. He released Alise’s hand and stumbled forward to clear his mind, his breath puffing in the cold that the sleeping desert still clung to before dawn.

“I don’t understand, why can’t we stay in the shadows until we get back to Shiloh, like we did when we left IshFahar?”

“Because I don’t know where we are. The first step into the shadows is the most crucial for your journey. You must know where you are and where you’re going to navigate properly.” Djac knelt in the dark sand, drawing a like. “When you leave a place, you must have total awareness of your surroundings before you make the first step. When you do, you understand how to walk from here” he pointed to one end of the line, “To here. Back at the camp, our first step was not only unsure, but disrupted. We were set on a different course.” His finger drew a jumbled mess in the sand over the line. “We could be anywhere, here, here, here.” He pointed all over the chaotic lines, before sighing in defeat. “I’ve never told anyone this, but I consider it a miracle that we weren’t lost to the darkness that first time. Imagine if we were dropped at random in the ocean, but we happened to fall just close enough to the shore to swim to it before dying of exhaustion.”

He leaned back on his heels, squeezing the tiredness from his eyes before standing and moving up the dune positioned beside them. Once he crested the peak and stopped, a strange warmth filling his chest at the sight before him.

“Alise.” He called down the slope to where the princess sat, looking wearily at his picture in the sand. He nodded his head to his left, beckoning her to join his side. She stood slowly, letting the sands fall off the sapphire chiton she still wore, and made her way up the hill. As soon as her eyesight broke the zenith of the dune, they widened.

Their vantage point gave them a clear view of the early dawn. The vast beginnings of light that promised a new day. Sunrise of the desert.

Brilliant in its prodigious glory, there were no clouds to refract the light. Just an endless expanse of blinding yellow and blazing orange, somehow blending into tranquil blue. Slowly the sphere rose, breaking passed the horizon, kissing the sand with beam after beam of its benevolence.

They watched it together. Mesmerized. And Djac felt himself draw closer to her side. His hand had all but begun to ache with the feeling of hers right next to his. He wasn’t sure if his fingers brushed hers, or the other way around, but such a small touch felt electric in a moment like this. He felt her shivering next to him.

Despite the sun’s rising influence, the morning still clung to the brutal temperatures of the night, and Alise had begun to feel it. Djac turned to her. She tore her eyes from the horizon to face him. They stared at each other. He lifted his fingertips to her neck, gently grazing her skin. She breathed heavily, as they looked intently into the other’s eyes. All he would have to do is lean forward another inch, and everything would change.

Warm currents of heat left his fingers and slid down her neck. He poured warmth into her skin, filling in her chest, washing it down her arms, her legs, to her fingers and toes.

She sighed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply with the relief. He watched her lips. Wondering. Wishing. All he would have to do is lean forward.

She opened her eyes again and they watched one another. They both pulled away, that familiar resolution falling over them both.

Djac looked all around them, his eyes falling on a ridge so far in the distance, it might have been a mirage, but the oddity of their rise and fall were too unique to be mistaken. Up, down, up, down, slant. Despite himself, a smile played on his features.

“What is it?” Alise looked toward them.

“Do you see those hills?” He leaned in, pointing over her shoulder, musing at how if they hadn’t stayed to watch the sunrise, they wouldn’t have had enough light to spot them, “those are called Al Soq Bassah’d. Do you know why they’re special?”

“No, why?” she looked at him confused.

“Because every young boy in the fire realm is taught about those mountains, and the legends behind them, until they are drilled into our minds. I could point to them on a map if my eyes were closed. Which means….”

“Which means you know where we are.” She smiled at him.

He smiled back. “I know where we are.”

*****

Shiloh was quiet and dreary in the late evening when they arrived back. The citizens were no doubt burrowed in their homes, eager to forget the tragedies they had endured.

Djac and Annalise were both exhausted. It had been shockingly easier to navigate through the shadows with just her at his side, but it was still no simple task. This was on top of the fact that he hadn’t rested from his last time in the shadow realm, the battle, and the mental storm of navigating lost in darkness.

They made their way through the city, back to Jethro and Laila’s home, where two figures stood by the door, having an intense conversation, when they looked up to see Djac and Alise approaching.

“Zarich.” Djac breathed. Zarich ran to Djac’s side, taking his hand and kneeling before him.

“What’s all this?” Djac asked.

“Forgive me, sir. But we took you for dead. You and the princess. It has been days since the attack.”

“Days?!” Alise and Djac exclaimed at the same time. Djac grit his teeth, remembering that getting lost in the shadows would often displace more than just your location.

“Zarich, tell us everything.” Djac said. Zarich stared at him, sparing a glance at Annalise that held more than just resentment.

“You’ve been gone for six days. The water lord escaped after his attack. Most of those at his interrogation apparently made it into the shadows in time… A few are still missing but… being lost for so long in the shadows likely means…”

Djac sighed in understanding. “They could still find their way back, Zarich, do not lose hope. What else?”

“Lord Jethro has been inconsolable since the attack. He keeps to his room and is prone to fits of hysteria. His son, Ozem, has assumed authority. He has ordered everyone in the city to pack their homes. He intends to have them live as nomads, scattered through the realm until the war is over. He says they are too exposed here, and they don’t have the means to defend it anymore. He believes they will be more protected if they are always moving.”

Djac ran a hand over his face. Displacing an entire people to live off an unforgiving land. It was reckless and cruel and reeked of desperation. It very well could put them in more danger than just staying in the city.

“How soon will the people be mobile?” Alise asked.

“Many of them have already left. The attack on the city was all the encouragement they needed to get out. But as for the rest? I’d say two days at most. Ozem himself is preparing his family to leave.”

“We need to talk him out of it. I’ll speak with Jethro.” Djac nodded, and they moved toward the house. “We’ll need to regroup, and work out how to save our plan to get to Agnihar and kill the king.”

“The plan is gone, Djac.” Zarich shook his head, making them stop. “With the water element’s escape, he has undoubtedly returned to Agnihar to warn the king. He’ll know we’re coming, and we would be walking into a trap.”

“Then we’ll regroup and reformulante the plan.” Djac seethed, letting his exhaustion get the better of him. “Gather everyone from the team for a secret meeting. Only the twelve of us. And tell Ali to meet me in my chambers.” He turned again toward the house.

“Sir…” Zarich’s eyes had filled with worry. “Ali was one of those lost to the shadows. He has not yet returned since the attack.”

*****

Jethro’s room was dark. Draped with curtains over the windows and no candles. And it smelled. Rank with old sweat and stale air.

He sat on a bench by the window, staring at nothing. Djac walked to his side, feeling the mourning as if it were in the air, and knelt beside his friend, saying nothing.

Jethro continued to stare in silence, not even acknowledging the newcomer. Djac tried to think of a way to start, but something held him back. He felt it necessary to respect his grief before anything else.

“I suspect you have come to tell me to get up. Wash my face. Carry on. My people need me…” Jethro mumbled the words, eat one more resentful than the last.

Djac said nothing, prompting Jethro to turn and look at him through the darkness.

“They have not burned her body yet. She remains wrapped in a white sheet, sitting on the pyre. Rotting in the sun. My Laila. Rotting under the sun.” His voice wobbled and his hand shook, grasping his forearm.

“They expect me to light it. To burn what’s left of her. They say they cannot have the funeral unless I light the pyre myself. But I cannot…” he trailed off. Sobs coming to his throat, exhausted and strangled.

“I’m sorry my friend.” Djac whispered, taking Jethro’s hand. Jethro continued to cry. And they sat together in sadness, not a word passing between them.

An hour must have passed like that. Jethro’s tears gave way to stillness, and the space between them seemed to fill with something. Something other than just the pain and hollowness. It wasn’t strength or ease. But perhaps it could be. With time.

“Ozem says I have until the morning, or he will light the pyre himself. He gave me seven days. Seven days to say goodbye to my greatest love.”

“Maybe you are not saying goodbye. But you’re merely giving her the chance to travel on ahead of you.” Djac offered. Jethro seemed to consider this.

“And one day I will follow. Someday soon I would wager. For who can live long with half a heart?”

“You doubt your own strength.”

“No, my boy. I’ve simply come to recognize that I have done what I can. Ozem is wise and honorable. He will lead the Shilans well.”

“No, Jethro, you must convince him that scattering your people is not in their best intere-”

“Djaccar. I have done what I can. And this is Ozem's decision. So now, I will follow my family into the desert, and pray that the gods of fire bring a swift end to the war, and reunite me with my wife before the sun rises each morning.”

Jethro stood from the bench and shuffled toward the door. Djac stood and watched him go. “May you never experience the loss of your heart, my boy.”

Djac’s face fell in shame. “I do not love my wife as you did, Jethro.”

“I wasn’t talking about your wife.” The look in Jethro’s face was dark and knowing, before he turned at left the room.

****

Someone had brought food to the bathhouse for Djac. However hungry he was, he had no appetite. The water, however, had given him a small bit of comfort. The dirt, blood, sweat, and sand were washed from his skin and hair, replaced with the delicate scent of sandalwood.

Zarich entered the bathhouse, a serious expression on his face.

“I’ve come to report that, of the twelve of us who departed from IshFahar, only five of us are willing to join your meeting in the morning.” Djac grit his teeth.

“Go on.” Djac murmured.

“Ali is still missing. Yasuf lost his water element in the shadows. And since they learned that the lord Thorgaut escaped and is on his way to warn the king of our attack, the others are refusing to come. From what I can gather, two of them have already left the city, and the last four are finding caravans to join shortly after. That leaves you, me, Yasuf, the princess, and her lap dog.”

Djac took a handful of water and rubbed it over his face, standing from the pool to his towel and fresh clothes.

“Then the five of us will meet in the morning and regroup.” Djac began dressing with aggression. Indignant that this carefully calculated plan had disintegrated before it had even begun.

“Djac, this plan cannot be salvaged, we have no-“

“THEN WE’LL COME UP WITH A NEW ONE!” Djac shouted, “Are you with me, or aren’t you?!”

Zarich stared at him in disbelief. Djac crumbled, sitting on the seat that had held his clothes. “I’m sorry Zarich. I am overtired. You’ve done well, forgive me.”

Zarich gave a terse but genuine nod. “I’ll see you in the morning.” And he left the bathhouse.

Djac put his head in his hands. Zarich was right, they would have to start over. The fact that so few of them stuck around meant that what was originally a dangerous mission, would now mean certain death for all of them. The king was too powerful. Unless they did something of a surgical strike there was no guarantee that they…

Djac’s eyes opened at the thought. When he was with Alise, he moved through shadows like a fish in water. She gave him an advantage. Agnihar would no doubt be littered with torches, but she could take care of those with a flick of her wrist. They could move through the city without anyone noticing within minutes. The two of them together had proven to be insanely powerful. The could find the king and take him out, without even needing the distractions at the four corners of the city.

Djac left the bathhouse, heading down the dark, deserted hallways toward Annalise’s room. She would have to agree, but they could make this work. The two of them together could mean the beginning of the end.

Djac rounded a corner and nearly ran into Annalise, who was also clean, and wearing much more sensible clothing.

“I was just coming to find you.” Djac said.

“I was coming to find you.” she answered, clearly bearing more bad news behind her words.

“What is it?” He asked.

She rubbed her forehead. “I’ve been doing the calculations. With the amount of time we lost in the shadows, I have no doubt that Aeolus’ ships would have made it to Agnihar. He’ll be seeking retribution. That, paired with Thorgaut’s escape, they’ll have plenty of time to prepare. I don’t know how we’re going to salvage this mission.”

“That’s why I came to find you. I believe that you and I…” he licked his lips. “We could do it. We can leave tomorrow. They won’t be expecting us, I’ll lead us through the shadows of the city, I know it inside and out. You can take care of the torches that would prevent us from being concealed, and we can get to the king. And Aeolus, if we’re lucky. We can figure it out Alise. And we could succeed."

“What about the others?” She shook her head.

“They don’t come. We can leave without telling anyone. If it’s just us, there’s less of a chance of getting caught. We know our magics are stronger together, and we would use that to our advantage. We could kill him and make it out of the city in one night!”

Alise’s eyes darted every which way as she contemplated. “No… No, no it’s too risky!” She started to walk away, but he followed her.

“It’s a good plan! Most of the others have already abandoned us, and this way I won’t be leading my friends into a death sentence!”

“WE would be marching into a death sentence!” Alise hissed. “We’re just going to have to come up with another way. If we can’t kill the king the way we planned, then we’ll pull the forces of the fire realm together and meet him in battle.”

“Why are you fighting this? We wouldn’t get caught, we’d disappear into the shadows before they even knew we were there!”

“It’s too risky!”

“I know you’re scared, but I would be there to protect you.” Djac demanded. To his surprise, she scoffed, and stopped in her tracks.

“You think I’m worried they’d kill me?” The words danced in the air a moment too long, making her meaning clear. She shook her head, as if to scold herself, before turning and walking again.

“We can succeed, Alise!” he followed her.

“Don’t call me that.” She said through grit teeth.

“Why not?” He challenged. “Why won’t you come with me to kill him?!”

“We’re not discussing this anymore, Djac. Drop it!”

“Don’t treat me like I’m one of your subjects to be ordered around.” Djac growled, “You’re not queen yet.”

“How else am I supposed to communicate my boundaries to you?” Alise hissed back. “Sometimes, it feels like you don’t hear me at all!” Her pace almost seemed to increase, “So now I’m reduced to demanding!”

“Then speak to me!” Djac spat. “If you want me to hear you, say what you want to say! Say what you wanted to say in the desert!”

Alise glanced over her shoulder at him with contempt.

“No! Stop walking away!” Djac snatched her arm and yanked her back toward him. “Somehow we’ve convinced ourselves that by ignoring this, we can will it into non-existence!” Djac’s voice was getting too loud. Someone might hear.

Alise looked down the hallway, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Only sparing him a glance, rage in her eyes, and tried to walk away again.

His heart pounded with fire, “Enough of this.” and he grabbed her, pushing her backward until she was stopped by the wall.

He took her jaw in his hands, his fingers sliding through her hair.

“Do it.” He said darkly.

“What?” She hissed, grabbing his hands to move them, but he did not budge.

“This is driving me to madness, Alise. I am… constantly distracted! There is only one connection left between us that we have yet to prove and I am sick of ignoring it!” he ran his fingers down the nape of her neck, his thumb over her lips. “For one moment, nothing else exists. Only us. We can stop fighting it… just once…” his voice had become dangerously quiet.

Reluctantly, he tore his sight away from her lips to look into her eyes. But her gaze was lowered. “Just... once?” She whispered, and he realized she was looking at his lips too.

She lifted her mouth to his, and silenced her ragged breathing.

The moment he tasted her, he knew it was a mistake. Their lips moved in harmony, his tongue pressed against hers. It sent him into a frenzy. He clutched the wall behind her for support.

He cursed under his breath. This was a mistake. He gasped for air, and pressed into her for more. She smelled like heaven, she fit perfectly in his hands, his arms.

He grabbed her hips and pulled them against him, a moan escaping his throat. His hand slid beneath her tunic, over her skin, snaking up her back.

She let out a whimper, and moved her arms around his neck. The fact that she was matching his fervor made for a dangerous combination. She pulled him in. She held him tighter. She moved like she was desperate, ravenous, impatient for something she had been aching for. Like she had been aching for him. And gods, he wanted to ease that suffering.

His grip hardened, and he let out an exasperated growl, furious that she had such a hold on him. For every sound she made, or touch she explored, his desire burned hotter, reawakening that long dormant side of him that no else had stirred for over five years. He moved his mouth moved to her neck, and she panted beneath him, her heart pulsing wildly under his lips, his tongue. Unable to help himself, his teeth grazed her skin and her muscles tensed, and she made a noise of exquisite breathlessness. Her fingers slid through his hair, and scratched the back of his neck in delightful pain, trembling under him.

He brought his mouth back to hers, and they tore into each other like savages. For every dream that she had invaded, for every imagining he had had of her, every forbidden hope he’d allowed himself, this was so much more.

“Djac.” Djac’s heart seized in terror, and he broke from Annalise to divert his gaze to the one who had spoken it.

Alise gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth, like she couldn’t believe what she’d done. The two of them pushed away from each other, as if to pretend their spectator hadn’t just caught them in the act.

Ali stared back at them darkly, and Annalise ran off in the other direction.

 

[_Annalise_]

Born during the deadliest winter storm her people had ever encountered, her siren mother had been fond of saying that the gods had gifted her serious-faced infant with the soul of a winter’s fury. After the Queen’s death, the council took over her instruction and the young princess had been carefully trained in passivity and poise. Decorum and dignity and duty were drilled into her until she knew naught else. Any wrong move meant a harsh punishment from her father, driving Annalise further into reclusion as she strove for perfection and, thus, protection from him. Her governess praised her beauty and diplomacy, and because of such, tolerated the princess’ inquisitive, independent nature so long as she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Annalise was her father’s perfect little puppet, performing when she was requested to do so and answering any whim. Behind closed doors, her long time nanny worried about her young charge’s unusual coolness and logic while most of the other high born children were given to fits of impetuousness and indulgence. Ann always ignored her pleading to go and play with the other children. To be unnoticed was safe. To be always in control, always aware, meant you might live to see another day. Friends were something that could be used against her and after her mother had driven herself to her death, or so everyone insisted, Ann had tried to steer clear away from anything that could be hurt because of her, or harm her in return.

Then there came Djac…and Djac burst through that wall without even trying. He challenged her self imposed rules, her logic, and introduced her mind to chaos, and a lot of bloody anxiety. But…there was also comfort. She felt safe with him and without her even realizing it, he began to thaw the ice she had formed as a barrier to her emotions. Unfortunately, the unfamiliar feeling enraged her as much as it scared her. She had never feared much until him. Ann had made sure of that by making her path as narrow as possible. Even when she was older, attempting to slowly gather support for the council of four to be brought back, she was careful to never divulge too much nor rely too heavily on others. The burden was hers, and hers alone. The weight of it was preferable to vulnerability.

The moment he had stepped in front of her that first day in Agnihar, to spare her the shame of a wrong move, something within her had begun to crack. Long before she had gifted him her soul stone, not truly understanding what that meant, her practiced smiles had wavered into genuine ones as she was led through the city’s streets that fateful first evening, biting into exotic, rustic foods that exploded with flavor and dripped onto her chin. She felt warmth for the first time within the fire realm, as a strange elemental took her hand and pulled her from her fathers strings.

Of course, one would have thought separation would have smothered the tiny flame that had sparked, but now, here, between his arms, in the midst of the hellish few days they had had and the grief that hung like a dark cloak about their shoulders, that stubborn little flame grew brighter. ‘Just once,’ they had whispered. How laughable that was. Her fingers had pressed against him, nails biting into flesh. ‘More,’ her soul seemed to insist. Damnable traitorous thing that it was. But she had pushed her reservations aside. Just this once. She wanted to take something, be selfish, just this once. And so she willingly lost herself to the warmth and the flames that consumed her.

Aeolus had attempted to cower her, to produce fear in order to gain control, and he had used her body to do it. But Djac’s touch drove those nightmares back, burned the memory of those touches from her flesh until the horror of it faded within the back of her mind and all that was left was her fire prince. Only him. Oh how Terra would have clapped her hands in glee.

Ann felt a hazy sense of desperation, the loss of control and something deeper, and much older take hold. This wasn’t enough. It never was and it never would be. Losing herself in it, she barely heard the approach of another, and once she caught sight of him, she could have died right there. Of course it was Ali. His horrified look shamed her, made her realize that they could never have the one thing that she so vehemently tried to deny that she wanted. A future.

Coward that she was, she had fled. Run away to the only other one that would have understood. Laila. The brief time they had spoken, Ann had felt a kindred spirit within her. As though a friendship could have blossomed through the likeness of their pasts. But yet again, it had been taken away. Her father always found a way. She needed to remember that. In sight of the pyre and with her mind on Djac, Ann slid down a wall and cradled her head in her arms, falling back on the one thing that had always been an escape against the brokenness. Strategy and logic. She would begin to construct a plan. To keep them safe, to keep him safe she would use what she understood better than her own self, the absolute ruthlessness of her people.

*******************

Hours later, Annalise had come up with a somewhat unconventional, but not wholly unreasonable idea. Unfortunately, it had taken her to the door of the man who probably wanted to see her head on a pike. Ali. His eyes, as he opened the door and realized who was standing there went from shock that she would have the audacity to show her face, to sneering contempt.

He slammed the door in her face.

Rolling her eyes, she knocked again. “You are going to want to hear this.” her voice cajoled.

No answer.

“I could make you do it, you know. I am being nice.”

That seemed to do it. Pulling open the door, he glanced over her with a condemning look. “Forgive me, princess, if I happen to be less than cordial right now. I am sure you will understand.”

Nonplussed, she watched him coolly. “I have a plan. But, unfortunately, I'm going to need your help with it.”

His brows furrowed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Shouldn’t you be sharing that with Djac, then?” His form leaned against the open frame, arms crossed. “If the knowledge of him having a wife hasn’t stopped you, I don’t suppose you care that he has always been known as quite popular with the women of the fire realm.”

Ann frowned. She didn’t need to hear this.

“He gets what he wants, and then he moves on to the next one.”

If she didn’t need him on this so damn desperately, she would have given him frostbite. Ann knew exactly what he was doing. Instead, she gritted her teeth against the need to hit him. “Your ‘master’ is a bit unreasonable at times. I feel ‘this’ plan is not going to be taken well by him, so I need to go through you, who I thought was one of his most trusted. Do you want to hear it or not?”

“What makes you think I would want to hear it?”

A brow lifted, her voice dry. “Because it involves you never having to see my face again.”

He was silent long enough that she almost turned on her heel and left, but just as she was about to, Ali stepped back, allowing her entrance.

Taking a breath, Ann stepped inside and closed the door.

***************************************************

Goran found her as the sun was just beginning to set, on the outskirts of the town.

“Does misery like company?” The question was gentle, as though knowing her current mood.

“Company isn’t going to like what misery has to say.”

“Say it anyway.” he answered, sitting down beside her and handing her her food and drink.

Setting the plate of food on her lap, she began to go over the details of her strategy.

Whistling long and low after hearing her out, Goran was uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments. Ann took the time to concentrate on finishing her meal. When was the last time she had eaten?

“I assume, you are sold on this plan of yours?”

Swallowing down a bite of bread with some water, she nodded. “Yes. I have run through all other ways. None of them have the component of possible success like this one. And if I do fail, well then…there is a back up.”

Goran rubbed a hand over his face, massaging his temples. “Tell me, princess, if ‘he’ was not involved, would your plan be different?”

Ann sighed, dusting off her hands. “Goran….”

“Do not lie. After all these years, as a friend, do not lie.”

A pause, then, “Yes.” The admittance was soft.

He nodded slowly. “Allow me one thing then.”

“ Of course, you needn’t..oh!”

Within another span of breath, he had turned and pulled her to his chest, his mouth descending upon her own.

It was….it was….not the same. Ann blinked, trying to think of something to do with her hands. What did she do with her hands? This would have been laughable had it been someone other than herself in this predicament. Fingers curled into fists at her side and her mind instinctively went blank, probably out of embarrassment. The shards of soul that remained within her shriveled up with revulsion at the touch of another upon her skin. Nothing. She remained cold. Definitely not the same. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t sorry she didn’t feel anything. Might have been easier for all of them if she did.

Pulling away, he pressed his forehead to her own and sighed regretfully. “Nothing?”

She couldn’t even pretend. “Nothing. I’m so sorry Goran.”

“Well…you cannot fault me for trying.” He stood grinning down at her, ever good natured, and helped her up. “Also, it will well please me to be able to throw that in his face the next time I see him.”

Gods help her. Ignoring that comment, she smirked up at him. “He does have the ability to burn that pretty little face of yours, Goran.”

Laughing, he ruffled her hair. “Should make me even more dashing for the shield maidens, methinks.”

Ann shook her head ruefully, before turning somewhat serious again. “So you’ll do it. You will help?”

“Against my better judgment, yes. Besides, Turi might kill me if I don’t.”

She smiled at the thought of the old sentinel. He was probably right. Still… “You are a good friend, Goran.”

He pressed a hand to his heart and groaned, loudly enough that a couple nearby stopped to look at him with concern. “Please stop trying to make it better. My heart is never going to recover.”

Red faced, she linked arms with him to hurry him along. Could the man do anything quietly? “I’m pretty sure you’ll recover, Goran. You always do.”

***************************************************

Packing the least amount as she dared, Ann shoved in the package Goran brought her from the kitchens and headed to find Djac, her heart feeling as though it was in her throat. ‘This was going to work. This was going to work.’ It was like a mantra in her head. A servant leaving his quarters with an empty platter was a pretty good indication of his location, and she slipped inside without knocking before she could change her mind.

Djac was sitting at a small table near the window, the summoned food obviously ignored, but a glass of wine was held in his hand as he poured over something that looked like maps sprawled across the wooden surface. He looked more strained now than he did earlier. Was that from her, or the conversation with Ali? The door clicked shut as she leaned against it. Immediately, his gaze snapped to hers and despite her earlier observation, well rested or not, the flames that danced in his eyes let her know that he wasn’t a jovial Goran or even a judgemental Ali, for a brief moment, before he recognized her, Ann had a feeling he could have turned her to ash with a snap of his fingers.

“Actually working out a plan instead of just jumping into one headfirst?”

Taking a sip of his wine, he leaned back in his chair, regarding her quietly for a moment.

She had to force her face to remain expressionless.

“Come back to face your fear instead of running from it?”

Ouch. Ann felt her cheeks redden. Yes, she probably deserved that. “I’m sorry.” She was going to spend the remainder of her life saying that to him, she was sure. “I didn’t…I was unprepared. And, I do not handle that well…”

“Obviously.”

She frowned. What did he want her to do, grovel? “You didn’t give me time to think. You never give me time to think, Djac!”

“That’s because you think too much.”

“And you don’t think at all!” Frustrated, she stomped her foot. Gods he could bring out her temper like no one else.

The idiot grinned. “Careful, the princess is making her presence known.” He muttered to a non existent companion.

Ann’s mouth gaped open.

“And I’ve made her speechless. Do wonders never cease?” Leaning forward, he grabbed another cup and poured some drink within. “Come, take a look.”

She made to walk forward but hesitated. He laughed at her. Fiend.

“I'm not going to jump you, Alise. Come here.”

Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the pang of disappointment that shot through her at that, she joined him at the table, and hurriedly took a long gulp of the offered wine while scanning the papers. “Are these figures of the strongholds that are left?” she asked, getting straight down to it.

He nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “At least, those I think are still there. Now I am unsure on how many are going nomadic.”

Her brows furrowed, internally going through distance and time to make it to each. She automatically questioned him on who could use the shadow realm to get there, how long it would take, and factored that into what she knew about her father and Aeolus. Time was at the top of their list of enemies at the moment.

“Very well then.” Now confident in her decision, she held up her satchel and set it on the table, double checking everything within methodically.

Djac stilled, his eyes going from the pack to her. “Going somewhere?”

“Obviously.” Ann retorted, finding a small amount of glee in flinging that word back in his face.

“Not by yourself you’re not.”

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet and firm, and it made her stiffen. Now why did he have to go and say that. In that tone. To her.

“NOT, that it is any of your concern, but…”

“Let me stop you right there. It IS my concern, and after what just happened you should know me, know us, well enough by now to understand that.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“I…am? I am being unreasonable? Me? YOU are the one with the satchel. Were you not arguing against this very thing earlier?”

“Yes, but…”

“But, nothing!” he fairly roared, snatching her satchel and holding it out of her reach.

“You give that back to me this instant Djaccar or,”

“Or what Alise…” Djac dared.

Of all the men in her entire damn existence, it had to be this one. “You stubborn, infuriating male. Stop talking over me!”

“I refuse to listen to idiotic notions of martyrdom.”

“Martyrdom? Who said anything about that?” She stepped closer, her eyes stormy, a finger poking him in the chest.

“You! You obviously need protection from whatever stupid scheme Goran probably put you up to!”

Oh the nerve. “I have never needed protection and I do not need it now!” She turned on her heel and moved to get some space between the two of them.

He grabbed her upper arm, swinging her back towards him, fairly shaking with rage. “YES. you. Do! You did then, and you do now!”

Ann scoffed. “Djac…”

“No. You do not get to argue your way out of this one. Since the day I met you, you have tried to brush people off, brush me off. To stand on your own. That isn’t how life works.”

“I have to protect…” You. “... my people.” she answered pathetically. Coward.

“That doesn’t mean laying yourself out like a sacrificial lamb! They need you as well. You will be their Queen…”

“But I do not WANT to be Queen!” The harsh words left lips before she was able to stop it, and a deep soul searing shame filled her. Her head dropped, hands fisting upon his chest. “I have never wanted to be Queen.”

“Talk to me, Alise. What do you want?” Djac’s voice was quiet.

“I don’t….” she sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” Ann stepped back. The future she wanted could never be, however this war ended.

“You are not your father. You know that, right?”

“You study the monster too closely, and you might just become one.” she whispered.

She didn’t flinch away this time as he moved to cup her cheeks, bringing her gaze up to his. “You are entirely too stubborn to become the monster. It wouldn’t survive in your head.”

Her lips curved faintly, her sadness turning into faint exasperation. “Have you always been this stubbornly optimistic?” Ann quipped, quoting one of their prior arguments.

“Unfortunately, I have to when it comes to you and your dreary premonitions.”

“I’m being logical,” she said, obviously offended.

Djac snorted and then at the look on her face barked with laughter, leaning close. “Are you…are you sulking?”

Glowering, she clenched her fists, wondering if that smirk would slide from his face if she stomped his foot and kicked him. “Being logical is NOT a bad thing! You should take heed.”

“Ha! No thank you.”

A laugh left her lips unbidden, startling them both. He smirked at her.

“See, was that that bad?”

“Insufferable…” the words were muttered but non heated. Glancing at the satchel, she saw him tighten his hold on it when noticing.

“Alright then. I give up. Pack.”

Djac lifted a brow. “Pack?”

“You're the one who spouted out this plan earlier. It’s the best chance we have. So we’ll go. Together. Hence, me bringing my satchel in here. Which I would have ‘told’ you, if you hadn’t interrupted me earlier.”

His gaze turned suspicious, but he gave a cheeky grin. “So you are saying I ‘do’ have good ideas.”

“I did not say that.” she snapped back. “I said it was the best one we’ve got.”

Ann heard a snort, but to his credit, he began to gather some items from around the room.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked.

Lowering herself slowly to the side of the bed, she clutched her bag in front of her. Ann could tell he was expecting some acidic reply, to continue their light hearted banter and avoid other, meaningful conversations. Something she was good at.

“Earlier.” Her eyes studied the stitching on the leather before her, not noticing when he straightened, looking at her with surprise that she brought it up.

“You were right. I am frightened.”

Closing his bag, he tossed it by the door and moved to sit beside her.

Knowing that he deserved some sort of explanation from her, a truthful explanation, before anything else happened between them, spurred her to keep talking. Her small token of appreciation to Laila, for her advice, she supposed. It made this a bit easier.

“Rules have always been easy for me. You follow them, and you live. Knowledge of a situation is integral to the success of the intended outcome. Under my father’s eye, such is a necessity. One does not fail, or one does not survive. I spent all my years growing up honing that skill. And then…” she twisted to look at him. “And then one short day in the fire realm utterly destroyed it.”

She barely noticed as he took her satchel and set it upon the floor.

“I was resolved at least, before then. Resolved that one day the council would instruct me to marry within the air realm, for political alliances you see, and that I would rule more as a figurehead than anything. My gilded cage wouldn’t be a dungeon at least. My bloodline is too much of an asset. I would produce heirs, and the council as well as my husband would rule through me. That is the way it goes. Whether we win the war or not, that is the destiny I was born into. I have always been prepared for it.”
Sighing, she gave in and allowed herself to touch his tunic, smoothing the fabric. Despite the lightness of her hands, the familiar pull leapt between them, a fissure of power running through her body.

“And then, despite my careful preparation, you showed up. Whether it fate or that damned plan that was hatched between Augustine and your brothers, I don’t know, but the pull was there.”

A rueful laugh left her lips as she thought back to that day, and she lifted her palms to his face, gently tracing the shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes, stroking his cheek and taking him in as though she was trying to memorize every detail. It was the first time she had given in and reached out to him first. But she needed the connection there at that moment, it made her braver than she felt.

“After I found out…about everything, I was so angry at you. I blamed this…this thing between us on you trying to succeed with the plan. Me, a truthseeker, fooled by a fire element. It was laughable.”

He made to speak, his dark eyes apologetic, but she brushed a finger over his lips. “I admitted to Kasim once that had Bowen not shown up, you would have won.” Her hands dropped from his face and she tried to ignore the protest her body seemed to give at the loss of his heat.

“But, he did show up, and…this…thing between us grew stronger for me. Strong enough that I began second guessing everything I knew. That I began to bend my own rules, to take chances where once I had not, to sing against my own people…”

“Alise, I wish I wouldn’t have had to ask that. If there had been any other way…” he trailed off as she interrupted.

“Don’t.” The word was soft. “I do not mind you asking things of me Djac. Especially when I am struggling with what is right.” Her breath was shaky as she drew it in. “Just…do not regret it. Do not say you are sorry for it. You asked me to tell you what I was going to say back in the desert.” There was the slightest of pauses before her hand lifted and she touched his neck, feeling the steady pulse beneath the pads of her fingers. Meeting his eyes she moved them gently down his flesh, dipping into the faint hollow of his collarbone and hooking under the chain she knew was there.

His own hand snapped up to wrap around her wrist, holding her there, and she noticed his pupils darkening with warning.

“I am not going to take something that belongs to you, Djac.” Her words were soft, coaxing, and she waited until his restraint eased before she slowly pulled out the stone, rubbing a thumb across the smooth texture. “I am not sure that I could even if I still wanted to.”

His grip lessened, but didn’t move, his eyes boring into her own.

“Every siren is given a soul stone. For each birth, our mothers and the high priestess are taken to the ancient waters. There, we are born beneath the waves. Our first touch after womb is the seas caress before we take our breath outside of it. There, amongst the ancients, a stone is carved from the walls that bear witness, and our blood is made to flow over its surface before it is hung around our neck. It is our soul. A gift from the waters.”

Her hand pressed it back against his chest. “From there, we wear it until our coming of age ceremony, led by our mothers. I…did not attend one, because my mother had already died and my father…well…I was not trained to be a siren, I was to become my fathers diplomat, as you well know. So truly, the ceremony was forgotten for the most part. I was simply too busy. And then, I met you, and everything began happening....” Ann felt herself begin to ramble.

His hand moved to take her other wrist, slowly pulling her closer. And, gods help her, she allowed it without protest.

“You might be angry at me for the next part.” she whispered.

“That has never seemed to stop you before.” His reply was bland. “Go on.”

“That first time in the earth realm, you told me you were going to leave. I felt that I had to give it to you then. I didn’t understand what it was. What it meant to give it away. I just knew that I could not let you leave without it. That it could protect you. And after you and I… after the spar at the river, I became worried of how, how fast the connection was growing. Especially since such a short time earlier, I had found myself without my magic.” Internally she flinched and quickly skipped over any further details about that time with Aeolus. “I finally ended up speaking of it to Turi. He was my mother’s sentinel and knew her better than anyone else.”

Bless him, he didn’t interrupt even though she was dragging out the story painfully. Taking another steadying breath, she continued.

“The stone acts like an anchor if you will, helping me to stay grounded as my abilities grow, keeping my essence, my soul, within me so that I am able to focus. When sirens bond, or..wed, as many choose to say, the stones are gifted to our partners. A siren’s soul is never hers to keep, Djac. Where the stone goes, it goes, and it merges with the chosen bearer until there is no telling it apart again.”

Djac was staring at her, stunned, his mouth moving slightly as though he was trying to form words.

“It was never my intent to do this to you. And I swear…I swear I will try to find a way to reverse it.”

He was quiet. Too quiet. He was never quiet with her. Pasting on a smile, she pulled away and rose. “So you see, we can figure it out. Together. On the way to Agnihar. Now that you know, I'm sure that with both of our minds combined we can come up with a solution. So that after this war is over, you can start anew with Bianca…” her earlier lunch threatened to empty from her stomach at that suggestion. “And I will take up my crown if the people so choose.”

A hand was held out to him. “Are you in agreement?”

 

[Gray Sage]

Djac stared at Annalise as she stood from the bed, disbelief clouding his thoughts. His judgment. He never realized just how fast and hard his heart could beat. Ringing in his ears.

“So you see, we can figure it out. Together. On the way to Agnihar. Now that you know, I'm sure that with both of our minds combined we can come up with a solution. So that after this war is over, you can start anew with Bianca…”

Her words began to muffle, rage building in his chest as he took in her meaning. She might have said something else. He wasn’t sure. He took off from the bed and began pacing the room.

His breaths had gone ragged and erratic. He felt overheated. He felt the fire in his chest might burn his heart out.

“Djac?” Her voice called out. He ignored her. Feeling the weight of the stone around his neck like a boulder. Suddenly, it felt less like a gift, and more like a curse. He had been cursed. Cursed with water. Cursed with caring. Cursed with her.

“Djac.” She tried again as he continued to pace. His breaths coming out like smoke, they were beginning to make him lightheaded. The stone. It was her. She had tethered her soul to him, all this time, he had unwittingly been carrying her with him like a ghost. He felt violated. It was like she had been spying on him–no–invading him for the past however many years, and he had no idea.

He reached for the wall, desperate for something to cool his skin.

“Djac!” A hand lay on his shoulder. A comforting gesture.

Violently, sharply, angrily, Djac struck that hand away, “DON’T TOUCH ME!” He shouted, looking at her with new eyes. Eyes that could see her clearly for the first time.

She looked shocked by his outburst, and drew back her hand. He turned back to face the wall, bracing himself against the cool bricks.

“You… witch.” He muttered. She let out a breath from her nose. Fearful. No. Angry.

“So that’s it then? I’m your enemy now? You learn that I made a mistake, and my very touch is repulsive to you?” She scoffed, as if he was an entirely different person than who she had imagined.

“No.” Djac rumbled darkly. He lifted away from the wall to look at her with savage intent.

“You have every right to be angry–”

“Oh, I am angry.” He took a step toward her, making her take one step back. “I am angry with you.” Another step. “With what you’ve done.” Another step. “With who you are.” Step. “And I am angry with myself.” Step. “But mostly,” she ran out of space, hitting the adjoining wall. “I am angry, that that fucking prophecy was right.”

He grabbed her and pulled her in, crushing his mouth against hers. Hard. His movements so intense, his muscles so strong, he might have hurt her.

“We… we promised it was just…. The once…” She managed to get out, her hands combing through his hair, her own desire suddenly powerless against his own. His tongue slid into her mouth, silencing any more protest, before his hand moved down, down, down until she gasped, shuddering at his touch.

“I want you, now “ he exhaled against her ear. She offered no response, but the timely arrival of a moan.

“We…ca–can’t” She uttered with no conviction, and he curved his fingers, pressing deeper. She yelped and writhed.

“Who says we can’t?” he put his mouth on her neck, and her breath traveled across his brow.

“Why do you do this to me?” She sighed.

“You think I’m the villain in all this?” He caressed her neck, her cheeks, her lips. “For five years I’ve been pining for you. Five years I couldn’t touch anyone. While you,” his free hand tore at the strings of her bodice, “invade my mind. Torturing me every night. Every day.” he yanked at the garment, loosening it. “Then, you walk back into my life…” He adjusted his hand again, and she bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she held something back. “Now I have you in my arms, and the only thing holding me back…. is you.” He kissed her again, intoxicated by her taste. “Give into me… Give into me.” Their lips met again, and Alise leaned into him, her last wall of defenses seemingly coming down.

“Well this is awkward!” A voice resounded behind him.

Djac whirled around, ready to kill Ali for intruding again. But it wasn’t Ali.

A powerful wind blew Djac and Alise against the wall, pinning them with the force of ten men. Djac forced his eyes open against the brutal torrent, watching Annalise being hurled to the other side of the room by the wind, hitting her head against a pillar that stood on either side of the open balcony, where she crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

“No! Alise! ALISE!” Djac shouted before turning to the assailant. With air this powerful, he would have expected Aeolus, but Djac did not recognize this man. Young, tall, lanky, sharp features, dressed in blacks, finished with a cape. He had yellow eyes, and clipped hair the color of snow. He approached Djac with an irritating swagger, and a queer smile.

“That’s so sweet that you gave her a pet name! What does she call you? Ember boy? Fire stick?” the intruder laughed, his eyes lowering a little too far down. Djac fought against the wind that pinned him to the wall, summoning fire to his defense. The flames shot from his hands, but were quickly snuffed out. “Let’s take care of those hands before you cause me any trouble.”

The man reached into his pocket, and pulled out what looked like black sand. Djac’s heart sank as the man opened his fist, and blew the dust directly into Djac’s face. His eyes, his nose, his throat, burned with a wretched familiarity. He choked on the stuff, already struggling to breath against the wind.

The man looked over at Alise’s limp body and tsk’ed. “Such a pity. She would have made such a beautiful queen. The man flourished his hand in the air, making circular movements in Alise’s direction.

“Now, if I had it my way, I’d get to kill you both, but as it happens, my king needs you for some reason. That one, on the other hand…” The man shook his head like it was a waste, and suddenly Djac realized what he was doing. Even unconscious, Alise’s body made small, thrashing protestations against the lack of air, as the elemental created a vacuum around her. He was suffocating her and Djac could only watch.

Djac gathered up every bit of determination and grit he could find in his body, and braced himself, like he was getting ready to cut off his leg. Fire erupted, strong and vengeful from his chest, and he thought the pain might kill him. It wasn’t enough to engulf the assassin, but it did push him backward. Djac collapsed off the wall, unable to move with the pain he’d just inflicted on himself.

“Impossible.” The man picked himself up off the floor and approached Djac. “Perhaps you are as important as they say.” He sneered.

Just then, the door burst open and Djac thought he saw Ali run in, fire in hand. The assassin was ready with Onyx and wind, sending a cloud of the dust into his rescuer’s face, before he grabbed Djac’s wrist and lifted him off the floor with a powerful gust, dragging him across the room on the air, and leaping through the open balcony and onto the winds.

He carried Djac through the air, throwing his free hand down like he was laying the path before them. The pain of burnt flesh and charred lungs still consumed Djac’s mind, as he tried to convince himself to stay awake, and failed. He last noted how amazing it was to see Shiloh from the sight of a bird, and wondering if Annalise’s dead body was laid to rest in his bedroom below.