In Her Element

Almyra did run, but not towards the direction she was told. She ran straight back to the place from where she had just escaped with one purpose on her mind: to get to Frederick and get him out. Having no idea where either she or Frederick was, Almyra had to trust her blind instinct to find her way.

At that thought a light appeared, and suddenly Almyra’s path through the forest became clearer. The glow had a familiar lilac tinge to it and upon looking down Almyra realized it was coming from her, or more precisely, the necklace.

So maybe not such blind instincts.

Following the pull of her heart and the necklace combined, Almyra found her way to the edge of the trees and back to the blown apart cave, along the way being careful as she trod on fallen leaves and avoided low-hanging tree branches. It would be silly to be hindered by an injury obtained from a part of nature that just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Or the wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how one would choose to look at it.

The sight that greeted Almyra as she emerged from the dark cover of the forest shocked her into stillness. Bodies lay fallen all throughout the grounds in front of her; they were not all dead however, for she saw the occasional twitch of an arm or leg. This recalled to her memory the stories her brother used to tell her in order to scare her, of animals walking around, their severed limbs dangling and flopping around. Almyra’s stomach turned most painfully, and she quickly led her thoughts away from such gruesome ideas to the imminent rescue. Not even bothering to if the torn and filthy hem of her gown, she skirted around the fallen bodies, the only relief from the steady growth of heaviness in her heart was that she somehow knew that not one of them was Frederick.

But this also lent her fear, for now she had no way of finding him. She began to call his name, first in a whisper and ending in an almost glass-shattering wail when she reached the tunnel leading back into the citadel without spotting him. Reaching for the nearest wall, Almyra leaned against it, slowly sliding down as tears blurred her vision so she did not see the approaching figure.

“Miss Almyra. Please don’t cry, Miss.”

The sound of the young voice, so obviously alive and healthy, surprised her and she threw her head back to see whose it was, hitting her head against the hard rock wall. She gasped in pain and touched the throbbing spot on head, thankful to find it was not bleeding when her hand came away still dry. She sighed as the face came into focus.

“Damien.” The boy nodded impatiently as he offered his hand to help her stand. Almyra shook her head.

“There’s no use, Damien. He’s gone. I’ve lost him. I’ve lost.” Almyra drew her knees to her chest and laid her head on them, wallowing in her despair, like any normal girl in such a situation might do.

“No.”

Almyra barely heard him over her sniffles and he had to repeat it. She raised her head slowly to stare at him, bemused, her eyes squinting up at him and her mouth twisted into a weird expression. “What?”

“He isn’t gone. The Master,” Damien ducked his head and whispered nervously, “has taken him back inside… most likely to draw you in as well in a last attempt to take your Powers for himself.” Damien was wringing his hands, a young boy so very terrified of getting caught doing something he shouldn’t, and then perhaps being…punished.

Looking at the boy before her, knowing that he felt pain that one his age should not, Almyra’s resolve set in. She stood, dusted herself off—a gesture done from habit rather than necessity as the gown was beyond help—and gently lifted the boy’s chin with the tips of her fingers to stare into his eyes. She gazed at his face, a face begging for love and attention, with its one side sagging and the other covered in scars.

“Are you completely sure, Damien?” she asked him softly.

The young boy nodded, at first hesitantly and then stronger as he grew sure of himself. “Yes, Miss Almyra. He most likely took him to his office and awaits you there.”

Almyra was already starting to hurry back inside when she turned back to him, gave him a light kiss on his forehead, and said, “I’ll not forget this, Damien. I owe you much for all that you’ve done for me.”

A small smile appeared on his face, making it light up and almost look like a normal boy’s, and when Almyra turned back around she heard him whisper be careful in her mind.

Beads of sweat, shaking hands, tapping foot—all signs of nervousness that the Master was not doing a very good job of hiding, at least not in Frederick’s view. His eyes followed the Master’s pacing and signs of worry that he could not hide. He might have found it amusing had he not had some of the symptoms himself. After all, he was the bait, the worm dangling on the hook, hoping to lure the fish to him. And Frederick desperately did not want the fish to take the bait. Or to even come near it

They waited, silent except for the scuffling of the Master’s feet across the carpet, each in their own thoughts—one hoping the girl would come, the other wishing against it with all his might.

“Stop your moving about, boy,” a harsh voice cut through the tension.

The Master spun around and froze as he stared at someone standing behind Frederick. If there was any way for the Master to look even more nervous, it happened. His face paled, his eyes popped, and a strangled noise emerged from his throat.

Frederick wished he could see who it was that could do that to the Master, but he was tied to a chair with his back to the fireplace, where the person had mysteriously appeared from by the sound of it.

“Oh, get a hold of yourself.”

A waft of moldy perfume hit Frederick’s nose and through his torn shirt he felt the frayed edges of a material brush his arms as the source of the raspy voice moved to the other side of the room. A woman, if she could be called that by the looks of her, met his gaze with narrowed eyes.

“This is the one who had been causing you all the trouble? He doesn’t look like much.” Her lips, carelessly painted a devil’s red, moved and puckered with deliberation as she looked Frederick up and down.

“He is strong in his m-m-mind, and the g-g-girl is fond of him,” the Master answered with stutter of a young child who knows the person he is talking to is expecting him to fail.

“Y-y-you are a pathetic excuse for a son,” she spit back mockingly. “A disgrace to my name and your family name forever, you are, to be prevented from doing what you were supposed to by this little slip of a boy.”

Frederick might have enjoyed watching the Master being criticized and bullied, even with the insult to him, had he not caught sight of Almyra at that very moment, standing behind the door that was slightly ajar in a way that only Frederick could see her. Hoping he was dreaming up her presence, he shook his head slightly, urging her to leave him there and get away safely. Almyra shook her head back at him with vehemence that so suited her, her hair slapping her hard in the face, sending him a very clear message: I am not leaving you here.

Well this was going to go all nice and smooth.

Almyra pointed to her head, tapped it, and then pointed to his, drawing an invisible line between the two. Frederick nodded, understanding at once what she wanted, but he hesitated, knowing how much she hated when he invaded her mind, and that if he did this, he was helping her stay, preventing her from making her escape. Sensing this, Almyra narrowed her eyes at him and mouthed the word now. His eyes widened as he obeyed.

You need to go, Almyra, and save yourself. You are being foolish.

Yes, well there is a fine line between foolishness and bravery. How could you be sure that right now it is not the latter?

Now Frederick was the one to narrow his eyes. This isn’t a joke, Almyra. You cannot possibly save both me and you. He’s powerful and that woman, his mother, controls him like a master puppeteer.

Almyra’s eyes found the woman in question and a small smile slid across her face. She looked back at Frederick and her look was that of one who was sharing a secret, but Frederick heard nothing in his head.

Almyra frowned and once again tapped her head and Frederick obliged.

What is it?

I can handle them. I have help. But I need your help as well. I can harness your Spirit and use it, but only if you initiate contact and maintain the connection.

How did that happen?

As Frederick tried to keep her mind in his grasp, Almyra reached into the neck of her gown and pulled out a charm; she was too far away for him to see any detail other than that it was on a gold chain.

Why don’t we just say that I have some Royal friends, and leave it at that?

“My, well is that not just a beautiful piece of jewelry….”

At the sound of that voice, Frederick jerked his head around so fast he could have sworn he heard a bone snap in his neck, but Almyra just lifted her head calmly to meet the woman’s gaze. Apparently it wasn’t only Frederick who could see Almyra.

“Now would be a good time, Frederick,” Almyra said in a voice that was a bit deeper than he remembered. And silently she added Hit me with as much as you possibly can. NOW!

Without a moment’s delay, Frederick reached into his very core with his mind and, groaning a bit from the effort, released all the Power he could reach. He felt it rush through his insides like a powerful wave and blasted it at Almyra, the girl he was trying his very hardest to protect.