Beneath Shadows and Secrets

♔ 𝔉𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔶 - 𝕱𝔬𝔲𝔯 ♔

I'm sorry I'm late, but I'm here now. Again, an unedited chapter so do excuse any errors or mistakes.

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♔ 𝔑𝔦𝔯𝔞 ♔

The clouded sky has parted to allow for a bitter chill to rush towards us this morning, as cold as the dread that swamps my veins.

It is still early, but I have been awake for some time, stood out on the balcony as I prepare my body and mind for what is to come of today. The first task of the Equinox – the race. I know enough of the Fae that plan to enter this competition to know that it will be nothing like the amateurism that was the spring Equinox. This will be fast and brutal and taxing, with practiced magic and skills in weaponry, and not simply luck and chance.

So much rides on my success. The time for my revenge has finally come to fruition, and the notion of failure is what gnaws at me today. I cannot fail. There will be death by my hands today, and tomorrow, and there is a throne that awaits me.

Awaits Calix. That throne is not mine.

It could be.

I grip the railing with a knuckle-white hold as I attempt to bury the voice inside my mind. It fuels me with a hunger that is insatiable, and I worry that should I listen, it will consume me. I worry that the notion will taste so sweet, I will betray the male that rests in the room behind me, even after all he has offered me in aid. I do not want the throne, I only want Vrodora to feel my wrath. No matter how much I starve for more, I have made promises too. I refuse to go against my word.

A warmth coasts up my spine, stretching to wrap around my shoulders as I suppress a shiver. Behind me, Calix leans on the doorframe, watching me with a heavy and curious gaze. The way he stares, it is almost as though he can hear the thoughts inside my head too. I offer him a fleeting glance before I turn back to the horizon.

"You are fretting." He decides, taking two strides towards me.

His presence beside me is comforting, the shadows of his that encircle me enough to rest my unease. "It does not matter how much faith I have in myself; I would be a fool not to fret about this."

He nods at that, and as though the reminder is needed, he tells me, "Many will try to kill you today. Perhaps more than any other competitor."

"Then they will die first." I mutter, flexing my hands as the power within me purrs to life at the premise I present. He notices the change in my breathing and studies me. I know he is thinking, the quietness of him unlike his usual brooding. It is more methodical. "If there are thing you wish to say, it is best to do them now."

His shadows stroke across my upper back. "You still do not know how to fly."

I shrug. "I have not made any attempt to learn."

"And your Barguest form. We do not know when it will show."

"If I start to slobber like a dog, then we will search for a large stretch of space for me to frolic on all fours." His laugh is disguised behind a huff of breath. The corner of my lips lift, only for a moment before a sombre atmosphere settles again.

"You bleed when you use too much of your power." It surprises me, how it is the first time he has mentioned that. He has seen me strained twice, once with the Magfuror, the other when I switched from form to form. It was only the latter that saw blood leak from my nose, but the sensation was quite the same. Exhaustion.

"Then I will take a rag to clean myself."

"There have been times when powerful Fae have overexerted themselves. To use all of their power has killed them. It is called the lassusend." I know what he attempts to do. Warn me, implicitly ask that I protect myself and moderate the magic I use.