The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 25

As Kiran moved to stand by his brother, the Aenils bells in the steeple of the palace chimed, their rich song spreading through the courtyard and over the gardens in a synchronized, booming melody.

With the sun full in the sky now, it was a call to prayer to the Upper realms—a concerning new tradition the Crown was perpetrating.

But that was a worry for another day. She forced her attention back to the princes.

While both princes were far from the savages she anticipated, they were significantly colder and more calculating than she expected.

"Kiran," said Saevel. Not needing to raise his voice to summon him, the elf meandered over, unhurried and casual but obliging. He moved with a warm familiarity, solidifying Imani's assumption they were close.

Once at his brother's side, Kiran lifted both hands. He murmured a silent incantation that took hold almost instantly.

Immense magic erupted from his signature. It ripped ribbons of power from the Fabric before flinging a vast ward out over the sky. The ward moved outwards until it encased the courtyard in an invisible dome, and Kiran layered additional defenses to fortify it further.

The shields kept moving until they shuddered with one final pulse and stilled. Residual power from his magic rattled her chest.

Finally, lowering his hands, the spell was complete. No one would be able to pass without Kiran's permission. They were effectively in the Niflheim Kingdom's domain now.

"Your monarch told you and the realm that you'll serve your kingdom for the greater good—a diplomatic and honorable service." Saevel angled his head. "That's a lie."

No one spoke—not even a whisper. Saevel continued. "Make no mistake, this is a reaping meant to administer punishment to your kingdom, and you are all guilty. You have gone unchecked for far too long, and now we're going to give you a choice in how you pay for that crime," he announced. "If you survive our Ascension Assessments, you'll be absorbed into our kingdom for a period of employment. Or you'll die. That's it. Those are your choices, and we start right now."

"Not all of us are going quietly into slavery." A Leimoniad nymph pointed his wand at Saevel.

At that, a maniacal smile overtook Kiran's face. He flipped his wand upright. "I hoped someone would put up a fight."

Barely moving his wand, the elf prince pushed a spell at the defiant witch in the crowd.

Fire burst forth, encasing the man in his inferno.

Everyone flinched, ducking and covering their heads. Imani kept her eyes locked and unblinking. The Mad Prince looked feral, and his magic warmed her face from fifty paces back. Malis' fire had been a fraction.

Before Imani could take another breath, Kiran withdrew the spell back into his body and sent a gust of wind through the remains with a flick of his wrist.

Ashes coated the crowd.

It raised the hair on her arms, and at that moment, she was certain he was a twelve-mark.

The witch held too much power and was surely abusing it, because the magic was like nothing she'd encountered before. Not even a dozen Essenheim master witches would be enough if they decided to go against him.

Worse, a deep, deadly force—one bordering on insanity—was fighting for freedom inside the elf. The man would be magnificent if not for the raw insanity rolling from him in startling waves. His eyes held a haunted viciousness that spoke of imbalance. She felt it more acutely than the first time he used his magic to cast the wards. Maybe the other elves felt it, but no one else seemed to.