Page 31 of Oath of War
The groups of students stared at us, whispering as their eyes tracked our movements, while expressions of hostility mixed with awe on their faces. One young mage traced the sigil for protection as I passed and I stopped, looking him straight in the eyes as I opened myself to the aether just enough for my power to be felt. As the poor boy’s knees buckled, I smirked and turned away, forcing the connection closed.
At the sound of a familiar voice, my smirk dropped, and I turned.
‘Lady Annika, it is a pleasure to see you again.’
The elderly artefact master approached slowly, the ornate crutch he used to compensate for the leg lost during an artefact hunt clicking steadily as he drew close. I felt myself relaxing, and the sincere smile that tugged at his lips reminded me of the fantastical stories the professor had spun about the loss of his leg.
The last story he’d regaled us with mentioned an attempt to tame a striga. Unfortunately, the sausage he’d used as bait had contained garlic, and the demon decided to take his leg instead. I suspected the old man just enjoyed fabricating more and more impossible tales.
‘Master Nurad, it is a pleasure to see you,’ I said with a polite bow.
‘Are you surprised I’m still alive? Admit it, girl. And who might this young man by your side be? Hmm?’ he asked, patting my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw Alaric shift closer, but I shook my head.
I liked the old teacher. He was a powerful mage, yet so cheerful and straightforward that he’d almost convinced me to try my luck at being an artificer.
‘This is Alaric’va Shen’ra. He is my ... ehh ... kind of husband,’ I answered, wishing I could just call him my Anchor. Much to my surprise, Nurad reached out and grasped Ari’s chin, tilting it to the light before stepping back.
‘Shen’ra? It seems the apple fell far from the rotten tree if our Ani chose you. We all carry our own sins, boy, so don’t let your father’s infamy weigh on you.’
I bit my lip at the irony of calling a five-hundred-year-old fae a ‘boy,’ but Alaric didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he placed his palmabove his heart, bowing slightly, pure mischief flashing in his eyes.
‘Thank you for your wise words, Master Nurad. My “kind of wife” and I will remember them, and your kindness.’
‘We’re going to the provost,’ I cut in. ‘Master, you must have felt the wave of magic. I need to find the royal mage. If you knew where he was, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?’
He looked at me with gentle pity in his eyes. ‘The royal mage has good reason for being difficult to find—but go to the provost as you planned. You will find your answers there.’
‘Thank you, Master Nurad. I’ll go there immediately.’
Pivoting to Ari, the old teacher issued him a warning. ‘Guard her, boy. Even here, you will find rotten seeds.’
Alaric nodded, saying his goodbyes, before heading towards the provost’s office, leaving me no choice but to follow him.
‘How do you know where to go?’ I asked, and he rolled his eyes.
‘I spent hundreds of years searching for a way to remove the curse, remember? It’s safe to say I know every university, library, and bookstore in the Lowland Kingdoms.’
‘And now, my wise old man, you are bound to a fledgling,’ I teased.
Ari stopped abruptly, turning to face me. The sudden movement caught me off guard, and I slipped on the fallen leaves of an old cherry tree. Before I could hit the ground, he was there, his arms steady around me, his crimson eyes meeting mine. I hadn’t even realised he’d moved. The vibrant tree branches framed his face like a living portrait, but it was his gaze that held me captive.
I swallowed hard, glancing away as warmth crept up my neck, desperate to compose myself. His nearness made it impossible.
‘Now,’ he said softly, ‘I’m bound to a woman who cradles my heart in her hands, my “kind of wife.” I would give up all myyears, all my knowledge, for one day with you, even if that was all the time I’d get.’
Before I could say a single word, his lips brushed mine, silencing my racing thoughts.
‘You’re irresistible when you blush,’ he murmured as he pulled back, his breath warm against my cheek.
‘Sweet talker,’ I muttered, trying and failing to sound indifferent. ‘And stop calling me your “kind of wife.” I panicked, okay? I didn’t know what to say, so I made something up.’
‘Oh, but I like the sound of it,’ he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
The moment sharply ended as I caught the words being said behind us.
‘Look, the necromancer and his whore,’ someone sneered, their tone dripping with malice. ‘He dragged the dark fae empress here to slaughter the rightful king.’
I turned slowly, my gaze locking on a group of young mages loitering beneath the tree. They seemed oblivious to the precarious situation their slander had just led them to, secure in the supposed safety of a mob.
