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"Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would witness power of that magnitude." Riggs interrupts, rattling the words out so fast, I nearly miss what he says. "It's been over a thousand years, but Lumos and Nox have been reunited."
"You talk about them like they're people." I feel my power waning and when I look at my hands they're no longer glowing.
"They aren't people per say," he continues, rolling toward us, "but they are entities apart from yourself. If you can master your Transcendent state, you will bask in that power. If you can't control it," his eyes dart to Atlas before returning back to me, "then it controls you, seeking to eradicate you and take over fully."
"Back to what I was saying, Professor Harland," Headmistress Radcliffe steps closer, her shoulders held back, and her chin tilted upward, looking down the bridge of her nose at us. "You know the rules. What would have happened if you couldn't control your Transcendent state?"
"I do believe that's why we're practicing out here, Philomena." Atlas rolls his shoulders back and cracks his neck. "Would you rather I cover the entire city in darkness and spark a panic?"
Her nostrils flare but she remains stoic as she says, "The King will hear about this reckless display of power."
"I ordered him to bring me here," I step between her and Atlas. "Whatever punishment is doled out, will be directed to me, and me alone."
"You cannot be serious," the Headmistress balks. "Your Majesty, Professor Harland should have persuaded you -"
"As you can probably tell, Headmistress," I interrupt her with a sweetness in my tone but hardness in my stare, "I am far too stubborn to accept no for an answer. Professor Harland followed my direct order. If you want to inform His Majesty that his nephew obeyed my request, then so be it, but I will be present when you tell him. I'm sure the three of us will have a very nice chat, since you seem to love giving him updates on my progress."
Philomena's eyes narrow and her mouth tightens. Until this moment, I hadn't realized how tall she is and how menacing she appears glaring down her spectacles at me. I suspect she's not normally challenged or questioned. Well, perhaps not by anyone other than the Harland brothers, since rebellion seems to be a family trait.
Her shoulders dip in defeat. Releasing me from her sights, she glances behind me at Atlas and says, "If anything happens to her, let it be known that I warned you. I wash my hands of this." She turns and storms back to her boat. "Are you coming, Professor Riggs?"
"We'll talk soon, Your Highness." Professor Riggs winks at me before following her.
"It appears you've made an enemy," Atlas says.
I slowly turn around to face him, and stare up into his familiar green eyes, all trace of Nox gone. "It would seem I have a lot of enemies these days."
"It also seems that you've made it a habit to come to my rescue when I'm facing disciplinary action." He tilts his head to the side. "Why is that?"
I shrug. "I suppose that's what friends do."
Twenty
Atlas
It's been months since I've sat down in my studio to paint, and I didn't realize how much I missed it until the first brushstroke scrapes against the blank canvas. While on missions, or when I'm teaching students to wield their magic, I have to remain calm, strategic, and always be a step ahead of everyone else. I'm constantly on guard, knowing if I make a mistake, I could die. Or worse, those under my command could die. But here in my studio with a wooden paintbrush in my hand, I'm free. Free to let everything I am, everything I'm expected to be, go. I can let my mind wander and the day's burdens fade from existence.
Normally I draw places I've been or random people I've seen, but tonight, I'm painting her. After today I can't eradicate her from my head, even if I wanted to.
I am not afraid of you. She had repeated it over and over and over again and even trapped in my Nox form, I fought to get to her. The way she looked at me when I transformed – I never want her to see me that way again. The terror in her gaze will stay with me forever.
When I first attempted Nox, I didn't know what I was capable of, or what I was doing. When people died, despite my professors, and even my parents, telling me it wasn't my fault, that no one knew the effects my Transcendent form would have, I still to this day carry the burden and harbor the guilt of their deaths. Every year, I purchase three bouquets and deliver them to their gravestones and beg them to forgive me, well aware they can't hear me, but wishing one day I will feel absolved.
When Shaye asked me to use Nox on her, I nearly screamed. How could I be trusted to use Nox again when I don't know how to control it? How could I allow this woman who has captured my heart and soul willingly put herself in danger? Yet, I did it anyway, because she asked it of me. I've demanded her to push herself, to hone her magic and improve her hand-to-hand combat, for a war that is no more than a whisper. How could I run away and disregard everything I've taught her?
Being in my Nox form was frightening the first time, but being trapped in that state again was torture. The second I transformed, I had zero control. It felt as if someone had taken over my body and governed my movements, as if I was nothing more than a puppet on a string. Nox was stronger, wilder, faster – and I was inconsequential in stopping him.
The sight of Shaye shielding herself from me as I pounded against the golden bubble plays on repeat in my mind. Internally, I was a madman trying to claw my way out of my own body, trying to take control over my magic once more. But it wasn't until I saw her hand pressed against mine, heard her tell me she needed me, before I was able to find the strength to shove my thoughts and iron-will into Nox. He screamed, bellowing that he wouldn't release me, but I fought. I will always fight for her.
The next thing I remember seeing was her face hovering over mine. The fear in her eyes was long gone and a newfound power emanated from within her. Her Lumos form was the most beautiful thing I think I've ever seen. Her hair was glowing and floating as if she was underwater. Her eyes were gold and her entire body shimmered with light. For a moment, I thought I died, but I was relieved when I realized I was still alive and was given more time with her in this life.
I slap my brush into the murky cup of water. Streaks of color swish in the cup as I clean my brush and pick up a different one. Determined to capture the moment that will surely keep me up at night, I stroke my brush in artistic fury. I'm desperate for her image to take form on this canvas.
"Ilaria Shaye Kitarni." I whisper her name like a secret prayer.
I should be relieved the Midorians haven't attempted to retrieve Shaye, but it has me uneasy anticipating what their next move is. With the news of our convoy's execution being confirmed in Uncle Soren's small council meeting a couple days ago, I am on high alert to ensure her safety.
Sure, the plan had been to kidnap her after our assassination attempt went belly up and use her as a bargaining chip to draw Bastian out, but the second I realized she possessed magic, the plan changed. Now I can't bear the thought of her being sent back to the people who drugged her, lied to her, and controlled her. Slowly, I have seen that spoiled, grumpy princess shed those unseen burdens and rise into a strong, powerful and kind woman.
