Page 107 of Within the Veil

"As a Fae, you cancreateair, water, fire, and earth. You do not need to be within their vicinity. Sure, some Fae, who have a familial history of a stronger element, can master and manipulate their chosen element and wield it as one would a weapon, with more proficiency as it is inherent to them. Consider Grayson, with his ability with the element of water. But because the Fae, over time, have all become complacent in their existence, thinking themselves safe within the veil of our realms, they have grown content with basic mastery. All the while, they have barely scratched the surface of their abilities."

"So tell me, King, with all that you have mastered in such a short period of time," again, his voice is laced with an undertone of pride, which I chose to ignore, knowing it could also be a clever trick to make me lose my focus. The fact that I even have to consider positive tones as a version of distraction is downright pitiful, but, again, his ability to distract is downright terrifying, and I will rather be wary than be down an entire ear.

"If one can create air, earth, wind, and fire, can one create spirit?" He asks and I ponder his question before shaking my head.

"No, you cannot, Master Oberon," I reply.

He hums slightly, "And why is that?"

"If Spirit, as an element, embodies the life force or energies that lie within all living beings--their soul--and as sense allows you to see the interconnections of all living things, to create Spirit would mean we are Gods," I say plainly, wondering where the hell this lesson is going.

"Ah, but if we can master it, manipulate it, and destroy it, wouldn't that mean that we are just as powerful as the Gods?" He asks, and I shake my head.

"No, it means we have become something that needs to be destroyed. Spirit allows you to connect and to see beyond what is normally possible. To pervert its use would mean to forfeit the very thing that we seek to use to master it; our souls."

"Excellent," he says softly as the shadows, once again, wrap around him, shrouding his person and the forest in darkness."Spirit strengthens your abilities. It allows you to discover true mastery of yourself. How quickly can you master that which the Fae have barely begun to scrape the surface of?"

Present

I pull on the tether deep within my soul, letting my magic fuel me, until a tingling sensation thrums throughout my being, allowing me to look and feel beyond those around me and instead focus on the slight and subtle energies of things unseen. Like an ethereal caress on my soul, that hidden part of me lights up, and Oberon's form becomes clearer, albeit not perfect.

I should have known the bastard could play with shadows,Hunter scoffs through our connection, and I smirk. That is one story Oberon did not share and while I was curious at that time and still am, considering my research indicates that shadow weaving is usually a power used by the Dark Fae, one in particular actually, when it comes to Oberon, any information shared has to be freely given. Then when it is given, it comes with a speech and theatrics. But one thing is clear, nothing is beyond Oberon's hunger for knowledge and mastery of magical concepts.

You've never seen him in battle?I ask.

Sure,Zane replies,in training or the various skill exhibitions the Kingdoms will often hold to prove they are the strongest in the Realm. The closest to a genuine battle was the one from a few weeks ago. Even then, he didn't use this skill. Although, judging by the sheer magnitude of the power filling the room, that was done strategically.

Hunter nods,it would have been a show of force that would have gotten back to the enemy, especially with Gaia and Uranus battling out above. Right now, other than leaving with an absolutely terrified view of Oberon, no one will be able to speak of what has happened here...or is about to happen, in this case.

He is slightly unhinged but undoubtedly thorough. How he timed the shadows with his silence spell was absolutely brilliant,Ryder adds.

I'm positive it was done subconsciously as well. There are some things about Oberon that I don't even think he is aware of, but his brilliance is not one of them. It's second nature at this point,Grayson says wryly.

There is a silent agreement, and our focus is diverted as a crackle of energy sparks thrums through our bond, and there is a collective gasp from those watching as Hudson lets out a low laugh, her swirling various shades of purple and embeds a blade into Oberon's chest.

* * *

Hudson

Kalen once told me that one of the best ways to catch an opponent off guard is to do the unexpected. A bedazzled blade through my mate's chest? Completely unexpected. The laugh that comes from the shadows after it hits him--and leaves it in--, is not unexpected. Neither is the blinding speed of his counterattack as he propels himself forward, his eyes blazing through the shadows. I meet him in the center, letting my fingers dance over my new weapon as I counter the swing of his blade, our weapons meeting with a clash that verberates up our arms and fills the air around us with the sweetest sounds of battle.

The sound sends a thrill through me, and as much as I want to bask in it, I place both of my hands on my spear to shove him back hard, letting my wings put distance between us. I ignore that, for the briefest of moments, our weapons had clung to each other as if in recognition because right now, Oberon's magic is aching for a taste of victory, and he presses his attack, letting loose a barrage of strikes, each hit stronger than the last.

Unfortunately for him, not only is my magic equally as focused on his loss but the advantage of his shadow manipulation, in terms of sight, is useless because, despite the pervasive darkness, I can see him clearly. But it isn't only my knowledge and mastery of Spirit that allows me to do so, --again, Kalen didn't raise a subpar student, and I know all about manipulating the fifth element-- the spear itself seems to be an enhancer. He may as well be frolicking in the sunlight. However, the power that he is radiating is concerning. Because it's not just magic, the power is as sentient as our magic, watchful, hungry.

I let him drive me toward the ground, blocking each hit until he sends a torrent of fire in my direction and then slices through the wave with his weapon. The swing would have cleaved my head off my neck if I hadn't timed the barrage of attacks for the exact moment my feet hit the floor. Anticipating the aerial hit, I smoothly pivot on the ball of my feet, raising my spear overhead and angling it slightly to the right, stopping his blade. In that split second, with the barest taste of death lingering in the air, I relish the heady rush of the adrenaline coursing through my veins as the impact reverberates through my arms. Does that make me slightly crazy? Yes. Yes, it does. Do I give a fuck? No. No, I don't.

I use the block as an anchor to gracefully slide my back leg forward, twisting my torso as I swivel on my front foot, and in one seamless motion, I bring my spear down in a sweeping arc, knocking my embedded blade from Oberon's chest, causing a splash of blood to hit the mat. The fact that I am currently swiveling, pivoting--enter Ross's voice, fromFriendshere-- like the old Hudson, even though I'm essentially 56 months pregnant, isn't lost on me. Thank goodness for Dragon iced coffee because just a few days ago, I would have rolled around the floor like a glittery beach ball.

He chuckles darkly as we circle one another, "Never knock a weaponoutof your enemy's chest, Hudson."

I summon the blade back into my weapons belt and shrug lightly, "Your blood was staining it, and it's one of my favorites."

He doesn't respond instead, in a flash, he closes the distance between us, his body moving with precision and agility, his feet quick and elusive as he makes sudden lateral movements that are supposed to throw me off. Instead, I ice the floor and he counters by making the ground quake under my feet, rapidly throwing daggers of rock and sharpened wooden stakes.

Spinning my trusty C.L.I.T in front of me, I deflect the torrent of vampiric murder devices, which disintegrate. Without pausing, he surrounds me with a gust of wind that builds until I'm using magic to ground me to the floor. Part of me hopes Nici is now stuck under a house somewhere, while the other part is busy cutting through the wind with a shield of earth and rock. A twisted excitement courses through me and my lips curve into a smirk, the intensity of his attack sending my instincts into overdrive. Instead of taking the easy way out and side-stepping the shield, I infuse my spear with flames and carve through the rock. The hit sends shockwaves rippling through the air, accompanied by the sizzle and crackle as the rock turns molten and explodes in every direction.

Even then, Oberon presses his attack, but I duck under his arm as he swings his sword, driving my shoulder into his midsection using the elements to push him back. The impact makes him grunt, but he still manages to swipe his blade down my arm. While the hit doesn't pierce my skin, considering the strength of the dragon essence, I know it would have done serious damage.

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