Onyx Blood [True North series book 2/3]

Chapter 34 - the Power



It took me a second to wrap my head around his statement. “I don’t like having to take so many lives.”

Part of me was relieved, of course, the thought of him fighting off the enemy with ease was a reassuring one, but the idea of him killing soldiers left and right… that was pretty hard to digest.

“How is Aricor?” I asked Thor, trying to take both of our minds off the mental image he had just painted, “I’m with Ilowyn.”

“He’s good,” Thoridor replied, “he’s at the southern border. My father is at the eastern one. More and more of our soldiers are arriving too — it shouldn’t be long until we have the situation under control.”

“I’ve got to go now, love,” he continued, “be safe. I’ll talk to you soon. Ask Ilowyn to make you a wedding dress while you wait.” And then he was gone again.

I quickly filled Ilowyn in on what I had discussed with Thor, and Ilowyn in turn explained a little about warfare and border defense in Ardanis. The Ardanians were the only shifters — giving them the advantage of size and strength over the Kinians, when in beast form.

The Kinians were the biggest nation though, and their army was triple the size of ours. Ilowyn explained there hadn’t been an attack this size since before the Eldrim curse was bestowed on our people, and the Ardanians had still been able to shift freely. There was a slight reluctance to shift now, knowing it would leave its mark on our people.

“Do you ever shift?” I asked Ilowyn. She looked very normal — no signs of animalistic adaptions in sight.

“As little as possible,” Ilowyn replied, “only to get up to Aerial Ardanis and back down, which doesn’t happen too often honestly. But most Aerial Ardanians are heavily affected by the curse, as we rely on transport between Terrestrial Ardanis and ourselves for almost all of our resources. Most of us take shifts in transporting, so we all share the burden, but specific professions, such as mine, don’t have to go nearly as often, as it might affect our ability to do our work properly.”

“What does your beast look like?” I asked curiously.

Ilowyn smiled, and ran her hands through her hair. “That’s a slightly offensive question,” she informed me, “most Ardanians don’t like discussing their beastly appearances, just so you know. But mine — she’s winged, obviously, and feathery. That part is not a given, though, some of us have membranous wings, or scaly ones. Anyway, my beast is feathered, and she has a narrow beak. She’s blue and beige, mostly. Aricor actually wears some of my beast’s feathers most of the time.”

“She sounds amazing,” I breathed, trying to picture Ilowyn as a bird-like creature.

“Stop doing that,” Ilowyn said, smacking me on the head with a roll of fabric, “it feels like you’re picturing me naked.”

I grimaced, and then giggled. “Sorry,” I said, “is that why it’s offensive to ask about? Do Ardanians feel vulnerable in their beast-state?”

Ilowyn nodded. “Most of them do, yes. Not your mate, though, don’t worry. He flaunts his beast shape any chance he gets. But he’s a royal, and he’s huge, and frightening. I would flaunt my beast too, if I looked like that.”

I thought back to the time I had seen Thor’s beast. He had indeed been big and frightening. For some reason, it made me feel a little proud.

“Does he really shift that often?” I asked, suddenly worried. “Well…” Ilowyn drawled, “maybe not every chance he gets. He knows what has happened to his father, of course. But he only hunts in beast-form, for example. And if anyone crosses him, he’ll shift too. Most Ardanians are a little reluctant to shift, like I said, but not him.”

I frowned as I mulled over the thought. “He doesn’t seem to be very affected, physically I mean,” I mumbled.

“True,” Ilowyn agreed, “but it affects his personality. He usually stays very feral for a long time. Destroys whatever gets in his way and such. It’s not pretty. That’s why he stays in the camp while he’s out hunting, and for a long time afterwards.”

I sighed. Great, my mate was a Crown Prince who threw tantrums.

I slowly got up, and brushed the feather against the back of my hand again, before tucking it into my tunic. “I should get back to my chamber,” I said mindlessly, “thanks for everything, Ilowyn, I learned a lot today, and actually even had a little fun.”

Ilowyn smiled as she walked me to the door.

“Me too, Serin,” she said, “you helped me take my mind off things. I’ll get started on your dress, so you can have your human ceremony and complete the mating bond as soon as Thoridor comes back.”

I thanked her again, and left the tower. On my way back to my room, I stopped on one of the walkways, and looked up. With the tunnel shut, Aquatic Ardanis looked even less real — more fairytale-like. The ivory glow casted by the three moons shimmered through the blue and green hues of the lake water, enchantingly illuminating the entire city in an ethereal dance of light. I could see movement along the streets — Ardanians. Aquatic Ardanians were leaving their houses, and just stepping into the wall of water. Going to aid in the battle, I realized.

I had rarely felt more useless. I thrived when I felt needed — so much so that I may have made it part of my personality. I had always taken care of my brothers, had provided for them from the moment my parents had fallen away. I had kept our house livable, had tended to our garden and animals, had cooked, cleaned, and hunted. I had been the one to tread the forest, knowing of the dangers that might have lurked there. I had taken risk after risk, knowingly so — I just wasn’t one to sit around and do nothing. I needed to feel useful.

I focussed my attention on one of the Ardanians in the streets below me. He was tall and slender, and his skin appeared scaly, even from a distance. I hesitated momentarily, but then, I willed him to freeze. All the way from the walkway I was on — I willed him to halt his walking. And he did. He just froze, mid step. A surge of excitement washed through me, and drunk with power, I decided to take it just one step further. I lifted him off the ground. It only lasted a split second, but he floated.

From where I was standing, he appeared to hover about a foot’s length off the floor for just a moment, and then crashed down. He immediately began moving again, looking completely dumbfounded as to what had just happened to him. I mirrored his awe — I had just lifted someone off the ground, made them float, however brief it may have been. I ignored the throbbing headache it had left me with — it did not matter. I was getting stronger. I wondered what else I could do.


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