Page 47 of The Eye of the Fifth
The Birlissus Ocean belonged to no realm, not even the seven isles of Loros, Mother Corla’s dominion of water. Pirates and raiders, lawbreakers and outlaws roamed its unpredictable surface, welcome nowhere but the one place in Droria that had no rules or regulations, the one place governed by no land. A place where anarchy could not be condemned.
It was for that reason that their ship had been protected with impervious wards, should Droria’s rebels draw too close, curious to see what and who else sailed across the vast body of water. It was also for that reason that the ship was a brown, rickety bucket of rust, rather than the royal ships of grandeur that Gedeon and his brother were used to.
The crew were a quiet group of human sailors who did not want to talk to them any more than look at them. He couldn’t tell if theirsilence was borne from fear or apathy. He did not care enough to find out which.
The relentless noise in his mind was louder than the wind in the sails and the crashing waves beneath.
But he refused to listen to it.
He had chosen his side, his loyalty laid to rest with the prince.
In Dracyg, where the sun was nothing more than a hazy orb desperately trying to penetrate its rays through the thick blanket of smoke and ashy clouds, there was little to no heat to be felt. But here, out on the open water where the sun beamed down from a clear blue sky, the warmth of it seeped into his skin.
It soothed his soul.
In those moments, the thoughts quietened and he was not a prince or a Fire Warden. He just was. When night inevitably came again, he found himself longing for the dawn, longing to feel the sun on his face once more.
After a week of uninterrupted travel, the white plains of Nythanor’s shores finally came into view. Gedeon had never ventured to the icy north before, and the climate was harsh on his heat-adapted body. Both he and Sekun were wrapped in thick layers of leather and furs, and still Gedeon shivered.
He raked his gaze upward, taking in the vastness of The Floating Mountains before them.
On foot, the chance for survival on such a treacherous journey scaling the glacial towers was slim. But Sekun was a salir. It was a rare gift, where a person possesses the ability to leap through time and space to reach a specific destination. Saliring long distances could be dangerous, if not fatal to the wielder, not to mention whilst carrying another through the chasm, and so their journey was split into shorter leaps to allow Sekun time to rest and recuperate and savour his magic before going further.
Gedeon did not like it one bit. Not because saliring was uncomfortable, but because it meant having to be in close proximity to Sekun.
It may have been the closest he and his brother had ever been to a hug.
Even with Sekun’s gift, it took them days to climb the mountain. On a fairly flat snowy landing, about a quarter mile from Phaenon City, they stopped to breathe one last time. The effects of repeatedly squeezing through the chasms of nothing, married with the altitude, made Gedeon’s body heavy with exhaustion.
Sekun was disgruntled to say the least, and dropped his hold on Gedeon as soon as they touched ground. Freshly fallen snow compacted beneath their feet. It was night, and yet the moon’s brightness shone upon the white canvas, reflecting its light into their surroundings with surprising illumination.
He could see the city from here. Countless buildings of snow covered stone that stretched for miles along the mountainside, each one as differently built as the next, as though each dwelling had been constructed by a different person, a different mind with a different vision of what a home should look like.
Phaenon was the only place that people, human and fae alike, inhabited in Nythanor. The flat, seemingly desolate plains at the mountains’ base was the territory of great ice bears and innumerable other canine-sharp creatures, roaming free and always in search of their next meal. Walking the wild plains of Nythanor was just about as dangerous as scaling the dragon’s Apex in Zarynth, if the stories he had been told as a child were true.
There was an unfamiliar taste of freedom in the very air here. A people who feared nothing but surviving the frozen nights, a people who laughed with little worry, a people who depended on one another without the dread of debt.
Singing warmed the frosty night. It moved with a steady drumbeat, carrying across the alien landscape right into Gedeon’s ears, jovial and passionate, and yet he had a strange feeling the sound would haunt him in the days to come.
‘One more leap,’ he said out loud, more to himself than his brother, staring at the smoke rising from the contained fires burning within the city walls. Soon it would blacken the clear, star spattered sky.
‘Are you ready for this, Gedeon?’ Sekun said. His laboured breathing had returned to normal, puffing in clouds against the icy air. ‘Can your soft heart handle the… what did you call it? Ah yes…‘the decimation of harmless civilians’?’
Gedeon ripped his eyes away from the city. ‘I will do what needs to be done.’
‘Will you?’ Sekun goaded him. He stood upright and put a hand on Gedeon’s shoulder, tightly squeezing, his face far too close for Gedeon’s liking. ‘Are you ready to hear them beg for mercy? To watch a city ofinnocentsburn at your hand? To let the smoke from their burning flesh sear your eyes?’
Gedeon shoved his brother’s chest. ‘You are unhinged. This is duty, nothing more. Let it bedone.’
Sekun laughed. ‘My part is over, brother. Yours has only just begun.’
He linked his arm through Gedeon’s once more and spun them away, leaping into the folds of the world, and landing right outside the entrance to Phaenon City. Gedeon immediately covered himself and Sekun under a blanket of darkness, and they became nothing more than a shadow.
He peered into the city. There was no gate. But in the air was a scent, fresh as morning dew. He recognised the magic immediately, though he’d never encountered it before. The fire within him responded to it as if it were an old friend.
Naal Westerra’s ward, crafted from the air itself.
He knew his flames would cut through it like a blade. No elemental magic could withstand an attack from another. It was against the nature of things.
