All those practice fights when it was just us, two children pretending to be soldiers. Or two soldiers pretending to be children.
The most powerful magic of all is choice, and of that power, the strongest choice anyone can make is an act of sacrifice.
Rares claps his hands. “When you’re finished, dear heart, feel free to leave the books on the table, as disorganized as you possibly can.” He motions to a table behind me, situated in a break in the rows of books. “The librarian in residence in charge of the Library of Clarisse is an offensively irritable man, and I would like nothing better than to make unnecessary work for him.
We’ll handle the future one thing at a time.
Summer Kingdom farthest west, Autumn next, then Winter, and finally the Spring Kingdom on the Destas Sea.
Same tall build, same golden hair, same dark-brown eyes. But this man isn’t old enough to have gray in his hair; he’s only a few years older than me, and his skin is smooth, sporting just a patch of stubble on his chin. He’s much more handsome than Noam too, not quite as harsh, like he’s more apt to sing a ballad than lead a kingdom.
Whoever designed this city built it to complement the setting sun as perfectly as the stars complement the night.
White strands stream around me, some matted with sewer muck, but most tossing in the wind. A living snowstorm, a vibrant white reminder that they haven’t enslaved every Winterian.
I drop down the tower and roll on the roof, breaking into a run, the cold night air blowing me faster, the darkness and gleaming stars taking me somewhere I don’t have to feel.
When Angra conquered my kingdom sixteen years ago, he did so by breaking our Royal Conduit. And when a conduit is broken in defense of a kingdom, the ruler of that kingdom becomes the conduit themselves. Their body, their life force – it all merges with the magic. No one knows this, save for me, Angra, and the woman whose death turned me into Winter’s conduit: my mother.
My bare arms are only a relief for the first few minutes before the unobstructed sun finds my fair skin, and I swear I can hear the rays chuckle with delight at such a tasty meal.
Family isn’t always who you’re born to. It’s who you’re with, who you love. Those families can be even stronger.
That’s not fair, throwing out compliments like that. Do you know how dangerous those things can be?
Mather smiles at me through it, some of his tension softening before he drops his head in a small bow. “My queen,” he says in response.
Leaders are valued for the wrong things.
Magic is all about choice. Choosing to use it, choosing to surrender it, choosing to take it from the chasm – choosing to let it break in defense of a kingdom.
A blade is a blade. Blood can be drawn all the same.
Everything really is about choice, even beyond the magic’s rules.
Just someone who gets bounced around in whatever position needs to be filled, used and used like a candle on a moonless night until I burn away into a puddle of compliance and obedience.
I’m asking you to love me and let me... die.