Gift- Book 1

Chapter 35

Leiea spins around to find the man right behind them, sitting in the same position on a metal chair. He scowls before waving his hand in a complex pattern. The air around them falls in waves and she's plunged into darkness.

The process was too fast to react to. She opens her eyes to find herself in front of a wooden wall. Looking up, the ceiling is carved in with pictures of leaves and vines. A throbbing headache pounds at her temples and a rope tying her hands behind her back chafes her wrists.

"Turn around you worthless peasant,"

Leiea stiffens but turns around slowly. Parallel to her is the man, standing in front of a throne crafted the same as the room. Extremely narrow, the wooden box only has enough room to house the two of them, with little space to spare. With the box so airtight, claustrophobia arises.

She clenches her fist but stands her ground. "You're from Karyk. Not much less of a peasant than me."

His eyes grow wild, A menacing grin gracing his face. "I'm not surprised you don't recognize me, other than a monster hunting you, but I'm still offended." He lowers himself into the throne and positions himself as he was before, crossing his legs in an effeminate manner.

"I'm not from Karyk," he spits the word out like a fish bone. " I stay there because I blend in. Does the name Firyah ring a bell?"

The name echoes in Leiea's mind, and she looks at the floor in thought. I can vaguely remember reading Firyah somewhere, years ago. It even feels like she's heard it in a passing conversation, certainly not the friendly kind. Her head shoots up. "You're more important than you look."

Firyah's smile grows wider, revealing blood-red gums. " I know I am. I chose to be seclusive in my reign as king of Kiira," Leiea's mouth hangs open in disbelief. What kind of king would use magic, which is rare beyond knowing, to torment a select few of his subjects? He continues his speech with a dazed look into the distance.

"Keeping a low profile lets me do as I please. If I stay in a castle in Florithe, I channel magic into creating hybrid creatures. The Ildful are my dearest," he giggles and shifts on his throne. "Fiery little beasts. Of course you would've known by now, but I keep all of them, all hundreds of dangerous crossbreeds, in that little forest by your beloved village.

"As the space is taken, I expand the forest a bit. Nothing to make a difference yet, but the more creatures I make, the more forest made, giving less need to have human civilization and its wake. That's why I let the birds burn down your adorable village. Why shouldn't they be dominant over humans?" He laughs like a maniac and waves his hand. A bronze goblet appears in it and he takes a swig. "Of course, that's where your emerald comes in to play. Your handsome friend and teach you this for some reason, but all gemstones, rocks, and other minerals hold a natural power. A natural magic that is seen nowhere else.

"As you know, all of those crystals and what not have a meaning, all of them got in some way. It's common for the wealthy and most people in Florithe to wear jewels to bring luck, love, friendship, what have you. They don't know that it's because of magic, because all of them are extremely dense, but knowing about the magic and harnessing it and bring much more than help in a meeting.

"The more colorful it is, the more powerful. The more flawless, the more powerful. The longer and wider it is, the more powerful it is. Certainly you've connected you're emerald to this by now,"

She has in all ways possible. The emerald from Sheyric the epitome of brightness, clarity, and size for power. Even that strange surge of emotion she experienced the first time she put it on makes sense now. This new and sudden understanding makes her drowsy. Newfound anger at Sheyric about not telling her any of this makes it worse.