Page 38 of Of Blooming Embers
The Augur ignored Breena, her bony fingers delicately weaving in front of her now, pale hair flicking around her. “Ember is present in every living creature. Every breath. Every vibrant human emotion. It’s the light … and the dark. It’s Kosmos.”
A spinning orb of golden sparkles fluttered between her hands before she clapped, and they dispersed in a twinkling billow. “Its thread weaves through everything, which is why some who are embered can wield beyond the elements. Can manipulate the body, mind, emotion, or aura. Can draw on the gifts directly relating to the Ancients that bestowed them. Evergryn lineage connects with the earth, but also with the body, whether it belongs to mortal, plant, or beast.”
She waved her hand at Breena, and a breeze twirled around her, lifting her dark hair for a moment. “Pyrian Druiks are often gifted with heat or flame. Others can ignite potent emotions in others.” The old female lifted a brow at Breena. “This one’s ability to manipulate heat and morph it—like the sun’s invisible waves—into a shield is sufficient.” Breena grinned; it was quite the compliment from the Augur.
Breena shifted, propping a knee up and wrapping her arms around it. “Let me guess. Pneumalian is wind and breath.” Breena winked at me. “Once met a Pneumali Druik who could suck the air right out of your lungs.”
The Augur nodded once. “Haadran: water and cleansing emotions. And so on.”
I sat taller, curiosity overtaking my feelings of defeat. My forehead creased. “And this connection with Kosmos—with aether and pure energy—it’s why ember needs to be pruned and expended. It has to go somewhere once it’s summoned. Otherwise, it’s too much for us tobear. It’s why it drains you when you’ve used too much … We’re so intricately tied together,” I deduced, a note of awe lacing my words.
Nodding, the skin around the Augur’s eyes crinkled. “If it isn’t used to shape the physical world or bend the mind, body, or spirit, then it serves as pure energy. As a distinct weapon. How one wields it is up to theembered. Not theember.”
I sighed, disappointment seeping back in. My scar tapped against my nape, taunting me as my shoulders slumped.
“Enough self-pity. Such indulgences are composed of wasted moments.” She stepped closer to the edge of the slab, eyes boring into mine. “Perilous Bogs’ gifts connect directly to the aether. It’s rare. Easy to lose oneself to its allure. Others covet or seek to destroy it. The ability to manipulate the mind, astral body, or aura is remarkable. It’s the most unpredictable ember and requires the utmost patience and control.” A flush of pink stained her papery cheeks. It was the most riled I’d seen her.
I bit the inside of my cheek, and Breena rubbed my knee.
“In time, you’ll find the thread that binds you to your ember. For you are one and the same. As you said—intricately tied together.”
“Bound together like a rune tattooed on your soul,” Rhaegar crooned behind us before bouncing onto our hummock and jiggling his hand in front of Breena’s face.
“Piss off, you,” Breena groused, swatting his hand and knocking her head against his knees. He yelped, ungracefully circling his arms to steady himself, but fell into the mucky water, backside first, regardless. Beneath us, the peat bobbed precariously as if irritated by all the commotion.
“Bloody void, woman,” he complained. “These were my last dry pair of boots.”
Breena snickered. “Serves you right for sneaking up on a lady.”
“Lady, my arse.”
I giggled, swaying my head from side to side as I noticed Gavrel jump onto the mound beside us. “Spar with me?” he asked.
“Haven’t you had enough?” Gulping, I eyed his heaving chest and the damp waves clinging to his forehead.
The hint of a smirk toyed with one side of his mouth. “Never.”
Interrupting them, I bid Rhaegar and Breena farewell as they got into their boat to head back to Helos. Rhaegar’s soggy boots squished loudly as he settled himself, and their bickering trailed after them.
Chuckling, I turned to say goodbye to the Augur, but she was no longer on her perch. “For someone who’s so frail-looking, she moves quickly when it suits her.”
He made a sound of agreement, offering me his hand as we mounted the slab. With a grin, I snapped my dagger from its sheath and twirled, holding the sharp edge against Gavrel’s neck before he could draw his blade. I wiggled my eyebrows. “Lesson one: Always be ready,” I purred, echoing his words from Surrelia during our first lesson.
15
MY YESTERDAYS. MY TODAY. MY TOMORROWS.
SERYN
His throat bobbed, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “Ah, there she is.”
I smirked, backing away. He drew a dagger from his belt, raised one brow, and then swung his arm. I sprang away; my eyes glued to his every move.
His muscles rippled and bunched beneath his dark tunic. He jabbed toward me, and I blocked, pushing his forearm away with my other fist. We danced around each other, parrying and blocking one another, our weapons clashing and clanging.
I had honed my skills with a blade since our time in the Dormancy; muscle memory enhanced and responsive. Of course, Gavrel could best me if we’d been sparring with swords, but with daggers, we were equally matched.
As adrenaline surged through my system, months—nay, turns—of frustration condensed into this moment. My pulse roared in my ears, a frantic drumbeat, as my vision tunneled and locked on the glint ofmy dagger. Until all that was left was the burning need to defeat my opponent, the thrill of victory coursing through me.
