Page 3 of Sun Elves of Ardani

“All the ones I’ve met have been insufferable. This is going to hurt.” Before he could react, she dumped another bottle of something over the wound. This one stung twice as much as the first.

He hissed, gritting his teeth. “Can’t spare any anesthetic for the prisoners of war, eh?”

“That was the anesthetic.”

“Oh.”

She prodded lightly at his leg with a cloth, glancing up at him to check his reaction. “Is it helping?”

It had numbed slightly. “Yes. Thank you.”

She began wiping at the wound, presumably cleaning it. The cloth may as well have been sandpaper dragging across his skin, but it was merely uncomfortable now, not agonizing.

“Will your captain have me killed after they interrogate me?” he asked. “It would be a shame for you to do all this work for nothing.”

She didn’t look up, and didn’t answer for some time, which didn’t give him a lot of hope.

“I don’t know,” she said finally. Perhaps he should have been grateful to her for not sugar-coating it. She set the cloth aside and doused her hands in yet more liquid before picking up the needle and thread. “But it’s not for nothing. Healing is never for nothing.”

Neiryn watched her work for a while, trying to ignore the pinch as the needle went in. She worked efficiently but carefully, her gentle hands belying her stern demeanor.

Despite the dire nature of his situation, he found himself relaxing for the first time in days. The past week had been a struggle to survive. His people had left him for dead when he’d been shot by the night elves.

And even though he would probably be dead soon, he felt the need to express his gratitude to this stranger for giving him a brief sanctuary in the midst of all this pain and loneliness.

“Your skill is unexpected and very appreciated, Lady Kadaki,” he said quietly.

She gave him another vaguely disapproving look, but said nothing.

Chapter 1

Five Years Later

Athick tangle of magic floated in front of Kadaki: A transparent crystalline pattern that brought to mind particles of dust or strands of spider webs catching light in the air, sharp facets of cut glass, and swirls of color on an oil slick. Tiny rainbows flashed whenever she moved her focus from one part of it to another. It was impossible to look at the shifting fractals for too long without losing track of where one piece ended and another began.

She had found magic unfathomably beautiful once. Now, she just found it infuriating.

Her fingers twitched as she mentally prodded at it. It was an anomaly—a piece of magic energy that had become gnarled and broken—which had, inconveniently, appeared behind her house the previous day. It was not dangerous yet, but if it wasn’t dealt with soon, it would be.

She raised her hands to pull at the magic, willing it to disperse. The anomaly twitched, flickered… and remained defiantly in front of her, unaffected. It felt like trying to blow the fluff off a dandelion without any breath.

The last time she’d been able to cast spells without a struggle had been five long years ago. Back then, it would have taken her mere seconds to unravel this. The simplicity of the task taunted her.

Her breath went out of her in a hoarse sigh. She clenched her fists at her sides.

She was standing in the lush grass outside her garden, on the outskirts of the town of Refka in southwestern Ardani, very close to the border of the elven nation of Ysura. The house stood alone, with only fields and trees as far as she could see. The sun blazed through the green of the trees, bathing everything in warmth and light, and the air smelled sweet, carrying notes of flowers and pollen and occasionally a hint of the nearby Sun Song Sea. She was wearing an Ysuran-style knee-length vest on account of the summer weather, and a cooling breeze brushed her bare arms, keeping the heat at bay.

Her mother would have said it was a beautiful sunny day and that one should appreciate it. Kadaki wasn’t really the sort of person to notice, much less appreciate, things like the sun.

“Still playing make-believe?” The voice came from behind her.

She frowned. “I’ve told you, Roshan, just because you can’t see the magic doesn’t mean it’s not—” She turned to find him smiling easily at her. She felt the defensive tension leave her shoulders. “You’re making a joke.”

“Yes, dearest wife,” he said, with the usual hint of irony at the title. He tilted his head at her. Her sour mood was probably obvious. “Are you all right?”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Fine. And you, beloved husband?”

He shot an uncertain look in approximately the direction of the anomaly. He wasn’t a mage, so the magic was invisible to him.

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