Chapter 8

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The girl was elusive to him

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The girl was elusive to him. 

Somehow, he kept losing the buzzing connection that pushed him forwards, as clear and accurate as a compass. His awareness had fallen silent three times, and he was forced to rest, to reconcentrate. The Skaara had never used his power for so long before, or across such a great distance. He never had to pursue a fleeing target across the island. 

For his own pride, the Skaara wondered if his difficulties had more to do with the fact that she had hidden her powers for so long. He had passed much of the time wondering how he could be so blind where she was concerned. 

 The fourth time he lost the trail, the Skaara winced in pain. His power snapped against him, and he nearly fell from his horse. When he tried to push on, like he had before, there was only silence, pain and exhaustion.

Many times as a child he had pushed his powers too far, and wound up feverish and bedbound for days. Our bodies were meant to hold magic, his father would say, but we are still only human.

He hated this frailty. For years, he had sharpened his mind alongside his muscles. He had not fainted in a long while. He had come to expect a kind of endlessness with his magic. It had become his oldest friend, always ready to be called upon. Careful, his father's voice seemed to warn. Men have died from overestimating their magic. 

"I can't sense her anymore," he whispered to Dom, saddling up astride him. "It's... it's not like it was earlier. She's completely gone."

"Let's take a rest. We can stop for food and water."

I can't. There were two other men accompanying them on the hunt. If he told them just how fragile he was, word would spread. He survived by being useful. He survived by being steel.

The Skaara closed his eyes, clenching his jaw in concentration. He thought he'd maybe, possibly sensed something, but his only reward was a headache that made him feel as if he was being cleaved in two. His head slumped down, and he collapsed onto the horse. The beast skittered beneath him, and the Skaara barely regained consciousness in time to grip the reins.  

Dom hauled him up quickly, before the other men could see. "I'm starving and exhausted," Dom commanded. "We're stopping."

One of the soldiers smirked, turning his horse to face the prince. "Your majesty, we're pursuing. If we stop, we're lost."

The Skaara took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He didn't want to stop, especially since they'd been getting so close. But he was lost until his powers recovered. The knowledge that he was still fallible after years of stretching them made him want to scream.

"What good will it do if we reach them but starve to death? Our horses are slowing," Dom was saying. "I command you to let us rest, just for a little while."

"He's right," the Skaara said, once he had taken the edge out of his voice. "We can find them again, easily. But we're all getting tired, and my powers might start to grow weaker if I don't rest." He hoped they didn't realize he had reached that point already.

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