"Try harder, Arinthal. Feel the velori swarming through your veins and control it," Aetheris kept urging, much to Arinthal's growing annoyance.
For the past few days, she had tried relentlessly to get his magic back on track, but it had all been to no avail.
"I've told you already, even my master failed to stabilize my powers," Arinthal sighed, attempting to push himself up from the rigid, cross-legged meditative stance Aetheris had forced him into. "There is no way you can fix this."
Aetheris firmly shoved him back down, locking him into the position once more.
"I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, mister. You are my only shot at becoming a free person again, and believe me, I am not going to fail!" she snapped. Her sharp berating left the young prince temporarily at a loss for words.
"Again," she ordered flatly.
Arinthal didn't quite understand why, but he found himself heeding her command. He had barely begun to channel his velori when his sixth sense screamed an urgent warning of danger. His eyes snapped open to find a massive shadow bullet hurtling toward him, only meters away. Instinct took over. Before the projectile could strike, a barrier constructed of pure, raw velori manifested in front of him, absorbing the impact and blocking the bullet completely.
"See? All you have to do is put your mind to it. It's that simple," she said with a triumphant grin.
"What are you playing at?" Arinthal demanded, his brow furrowed.
"Your magic activation time is insane," she explained, her voice buzzing with excitement. "That bullet would have pierced you straight through, but in the nick of time, you created a perfect shield. So what if you don't have a specific magical 'call' yet? You just used velori in its raw form. You've been restricting yourself by trying to meticulously refine your energy, but your body is clearly built to wield raw velori and shape it on the fly."
"How did you deduce all of that from a single strike?" he asked, genuinely bewildered. Aetheris was proving to be more fascinating every time he interacted with her.
"Just try what I said, you long-eared bastard," she grated playfully, cutting his awe short.
Ignoring the insult, Arinthal focused. He didn't waste a single heartbeat overthinking the process. Gathering every ounce of velori surging through him, he unleashed it all at once in a single, concentrated burst of force.
The explosive energy erupted forward and struck the reinforced wall, completely shattering it. Aetheris's jaw dropped. They stood side by side, staring in shock through a massive, smoking hole that tore straight through their wall....
And the walls of the next four adjacent buildings.
Ivor's proud gaze swept across the thousands of Sarvski soldiers assembled before him. They had been his loyal fighting force ever since his father's death had thrust the title of Lord of the Sarvski upon his shoulders. Now, he had a crucial task for them.
The newly coronated king had brought nothing but oppression to the citizens of Mandavorth, hoarding the kingdom's wealth for the elite while driving the rest of the populace to the slums of the undercity, a place they bitterly named Thavor. Ivor's father had originally formed the Sarvski, forging them into the most formidable militia in the region to protect the vulnerable from King Igresi's corrupt tax collectors and abusive soldiers.
But the crown's military numbers far surpassed their own. King Igresi had eventually ordered the capture and public execution of Ivor's father. The memory still burned vividly in Ivor's mind:
the night their home was set ablaze, his parents dragged screaming into the streets. He had watched from the shadows as his mother was stabbed through the heart, and how it took the combined velori of sixty elite arcanels just to hold his father down long enough for King Igresi to personally swing the executioner's blade.
Ivor had survived in hiding. He had bided his time, and now, he finally possessed the power to strike back against the one man he hated above all else.
"Men of the Sarvski!" Ivor shouted, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. "I stand before you once again as your Lord to ask for your strength in the coming battle. That bastard Igresi has trampled our people for too long, and the time for retaliation has come! Will you fight by my side?"
"It is our honor to serve you, Lord Savis!" a thunderous chorus roared back from thousands of throats.
"Then hear this! In four days' time, we march to burn that tyrant's palace to the ground! Tonight, we feast. Tomorrow, we prepare for the battle that will decide the fate of Thavor, Mandavorth, and all of us!"
An explosive cheer erupted from the army as Ivor bared his soul to his followers. He stepped back, breathless and exhaling sharply, but a defiant, boyish grin remained plastered across his face.
King Igresi was a doomed man.
<........>
"I still can't believe you managed to get us thrown out of the inn," Aetheris grumbled, pulling her black cloak tighter around herself as they navigated the crowded streets of Aberon. "With the local guard on alert, we'll have to flee to the nearest kingdom just to find a place that will take us in."
Arinthal remained silent, keeping his head low beneath his dark hood. He was paying far more attention to the shift in the city's atmosphere than to Aetheris's complaining. As they walked, a freshly posted parchment on a stone notice board caught his eye. Breaking away from her side, he stepped closer to read the bold ink.
! ATTENTION !
Five days ago at midnight, a foreign vessel anchored in the harbor. Upon inspection, the bodies of seventy-seven slaughtered elves were discovered within the ship's interior.
The primary suspect is identified as a silver-haired elf with blue eyes, wielding a distinct blue sword forged from an unknown metal. The suspect is highly dangerous.
Status: Wanted Alive
Reward: 200,000 Silver Nalis
"How did they get such a precise description of me?" Arinthal asked, his voice dropping to a cold, dangerous whisper as Aetheris stepped up behind him. "Did you have something to do with this?"
"When I first found you at the docks, I was supposed to be guarding two merchant ships belonging to my master," Aetheris hissed back defensively, her eyes darting across the crowd. "After you collapsed, the harbor guards discovered the massacre on your ship. A nosy merchant woman saw me dragging you away, and it didn't take a genius for the guard to connect the dots when they realized you matched the physical description of the victims. I had to risk my neck just to smuggle your unconscious body out of there, for crying out loud!"
She suddenly grabbed his arm, her grip tightening. "We need to go. Now."
Arinthal glanced over his shoulder. A squad of royal soldiers was actively moving through the bazaar, systematically checking faces against copies of the bounty parchment. Matching her pace, he accelerated down a side street, ducking quickly into a dim, narrow alleyway to break their line of sight.
"We have to abandon Aberon and cross into the next kingdom immediately," Aetheris said urgently, peeking past the stone corner to monitor the main road.
"How far is the border?" Arinthal asked.
"There's a teleportation gate a few minutes' ride from here. It will bypass the standard borders and drop us right inside the neighboring territory."
"Fine. But where do we get horses on such short notice?"
Aetheris didn't answer, instead staring intently toward the far end of the alleyway. Arinthal followed her line of sight, and a matching, mischievous grin spread across both of their faces. Just ahead lay a commercial stable, packed with strong, able-bodied mounts.
Minutes later, the two of them burst from the enclosure astride two stolen steeds, leaving a furious, heavy-set stable keeper shaking his fists and screaming curses in their wake.
They tore through the outer streets toward the city perimeter, knocking over market displays and drawing sharp reprimands from vendors whose stalls were left shattered in the dust.
As the massive city gates loomed into view, Arinthal pulled back slightly on his reins. A heavy military blockade had been established. Armed sentries flanked both sides of the exit, while additional archers patrolled the parapets above, meticulously searching wagons and checking the faces of everyone attempting to pass.
"Is that a standard security measure?" he asked his beast-kin companion grimly.
"No. Aberon only inspects incoming travelers, never outgoing ones," she whispered, slowing her horse to a cautious trot to blend in. She looked over at him, her expression dead serious. "They are looking for you. If they spot that silver hair, you're dead."