The Ocean Siege | Vol.2, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓

21.

Golden irises stared back at Makaela from the mirror in her personal bathroom. She gripped the sides of the sink as she examined herself. She was examining her features as if she'd never see them again.

She had decided she wanted a nose ring. She wasn't if it was the inner demon or teenager influencing the notion, but she was all for it either wall. Her wide, button nose looked so plain on her face. Touching it lightly, she tried to imagine what the septum piercing would look like. She thought it'd give her a bit more personality; a more rebellious look.

Am I rebellious?

She shook her head as she continued staring at her reflection. She wasn't. Not anymore, at least.

Before she joined Thorian, she had been curious and defiant—especially towards her uncle and his stupid house rules. Nowadays, she never stepped out of line unless she was in her Nightling form. It was almost like being in Thorian's presence for so long had turned her into a domesticated animal.

The man commanded respect. He exuded power and authority. She wondered what it would've been like to grow up with him as her father. A small smile played on her full lips. She probably would've been a much better magician than she already was. He had promised he would make her the strongest caster who ever lived under his tutelage. So far, he was keeping up his end of the bargain.

Her train of thought was stopped by the face of her father intruding her mind. She frowned at him.

He had been the best man she ever knew. He was kind and gentle and understanding. But he was weak. Weakness made for passive rulers, and that's what he was. Thorian was the opposite of weak; that's what made him such a good leader. People feared him.

She grinned. People feared her too. If she kept learning under him, she could've staked her own claim for leadership over the magicians after Thorian eventually passed. When she was a child, she had dreams of being the next head of the Eldenarian council. But they had always been dreams, nothing more.

Now, she had hope.

With Thorian Thauvin as her teacher, she could achieve anything.

She turned on the sink's faucet and splashed her face with cold water, eradicating the last lingering traces of sleep within her. The cold seeped into her skin, jolting her nerves awake. After drying it with a towel, she entered her bedroom.

Before going to sleep the night before, she had Emile braid her hair. He was a surprisingly good hairstylist. He had taken her black tresses and styled them into three, thick twists that sat high on top of her head. The hair on the side of her scalp had been slicked down, along with her baby hairs. Golden bands had been woven into the braids, the metal catching the light from the torches in her room.

It was the best her hair had ever looked. Growing up without her mother and no other women in the house meant she could never do her hair effectively. Her uncle was clueless when it came to styling natural hair. She chuckled at the memory of him struggling to comb her wild curls when she was little.

After changing into her Shade robes, she retrieved the silver lioness mask hanging on the wall next to her bed. She tucked into the folds of her cloak and exited the room.

Makaela and all the Shades present in the castle had convened in the portal room. They all stood around quietly. No one dared speak. As she stood in between Amora and Emile, she found herself holding her breath.

The glowing symbols on the walls lit up the cavernous auditorium. They blinked through the shadowy air like small strobe lights. Makaela shifted her feet and turned to the bald man beside her. "What're we waiting for?"

"We're waiting," Emile answered.

She pursed her lips at his cryptic answer.

"Thorian's going to send us off, girlie," Igor's gruff voice said from ahead of her.

Makaela nodded at him. Seconds later, everyone turned their heads toward the entrance. She followed suit, her eyebrows raised.

Thorian passed by the congregation of dark magicians. His black cloak, longer than everyone else's it seemed, dragged along the floor like the black souls that roamed the depths of Nordor. Everyone dipped their heads when he reached them. He stopped at the front of the room and lifted his chin.

She noted the small smile on his lips. She couldn't wait to have that power.

"Today, we are one step closer to bringing salvation to all magicians, Eldair and Solair alike," he began. "House Aegeon and House Brynjir have shown where their true loyalties lie. They have harbored and aided our enemies, and that is something we can not tolerate. We have attempted to keep the peace and prevent fighting amongst ourselves, but no more. Blood must be shed if we are to progress."

The Shades nodded and murmured approvingly. Makaela joined in, his words burrowing into her soul and invigorating her mind. He was right. House Aegeon would pay for their transgressions.

"Today, we will acquire yet another Eldenarian artifact, bringing us closer to our ultimate goal. It will not be easy, trust me. Not all of you will make it out of the battle alive, but you all knew what it meant when you joined the order. Your lives will not be in vain. You are fighting for a cause greater than yourselves."

The Shades grew louder.

"Today, we will find out just who is apart of our family."

Makaela swore she saw his eyes land on her for a split second. She dismissed it; he trusted her. He had to. But the voices in her head fed off her doubt. It took over her thoughts and she was unable to ignore it. "Shut up," she hissed at her inner Nightling.

"Talking to yourself again, demon?" someone said from behind her.

"Careful there," another said. "She might rip your face off."

She spun on her heel and flashed her fangs—which had appeared in her mouth for a moment before retracting—at them. Their faces paled as they flinched away from her. Grinning, she turned back around.

The voices told her to kill them all. She told them they had rules to follow, and murdering her fellow Shades was against those rules. Her inner demon grumbled something back before slinking back into its dark corner.

"Four of my knights will be leading today's mission," Thorian announced. "You will be following the orders of Igor, Emile, Amora, and Makaela."

Makaela sucked in a breath. Me?

A magician stepped forward. "And where will you be, my lord?"

Thorian stiffened, his expression darkening. "Excuse me?"

"You're sending your knights to lead us. Shouldn't our leader be marching us into battle?" A few of the other Shades nodded.

Thorian approached the speaker and the shrunk under his harsh glare.

"Do not worry about where I will be."

"But—"

He was silenced by Thorian pointing his palm at the magician, his lips curled in disgust. ''Cephalis!'' The silver spell shot from his hand and wormed its way into the Shade's forehead. They collapsed to the ground, their hands flying to their head. They released an unnerving scream that echoed off the walls and imprinted itself into Makaela's brain.

But she didn't look away. That would've been a show of weakness. And she wasn't weak.

Thorian crouched beside the writhing Shade. "Do not question me ever again." He pressed a finger to their forehead and the screams stopped. The magician remained on their knees, tears streaming down their face.

No one bothered to help them.

Thorian stood back up and walked out of the room.

"Set a portal for Thania," Emile ordered. Someone scrambled over to the control setup and conjured up the magical transporter.

It hovered in the center of the room, a swirl of purple and black. Emile and Igor went first, followed by Amora. The other dark magicians went in after them. Soon, Makaela was the last one in the room. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.