Page 91 of Taken By Shadows

How did they not shrink back from each blow?

They seemed to practically absorb the impact as they blocked.

Each. One. Coming. Harder. Faster.

But Audrie’s scream cut through both of them as she witnessed a harrowing strike, and they stopped instantly.

Denora’s sword paused just above Gavrin’s neck.

Audrie’s hands had come to cover her face, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.

Denora brought her blade low and made to take a step toward Audrie, but she flinched a little.

“Hey. Don’t. Don’t worry.” Gavrin was the one who spoke. His hands were hovering over her little frame. “She was never going to actually get a lick in,” he joked. “See?”

And then a blast of green barrelled for Denora.

I gasped at the display and for Denora’s sake, but she defended the magical cloud that careened for her with a maroon wall of her own.

Audrie was taken with the distraction of the magical battle unfolding. A giggle replaced the tension in her as the magic flowed in front of us.

Gavrin and Denora smiled once they saw Audrie’s nerves had been settled.

They continued their attacks, barraging each other with clouds of colour that landed like blunt throws and punches, swords forgotten.

They moved so differently as they worked their magic into the air. Gavrin’s moves were like a battering ram, as he shouldered into his magic. He looked like he would collapse a building if he didn’t hold back.

Denora, on the other hand, moved like her magic was a weapon in her hand. Her arms flowed like a dance as she poured magic into the air.

And I was struck by how fluidly they moved. They wielded their powers like a language I couldn’t speak. It was beautiful and a complete mystery.

Kaed had said it was a well from which magic was drawn. And how deep that well ran and how quickly it was drained impacted the cost of magic to a person. I watched as though I expected Gavrin and Denora to age before me. The magic blooming and dissipating like clouds of mist. But neither of them seemed to slow or tire. How powerful did the magic have to be before it drained that immortal well?

I thought of Kaed’s power then, unable to stop his presence from invading my mind. His shadows moved like they were a part of him. Not a language but a mantra. And when he moved, it didn’t seem fluid; it seemed restrained. Like he was struggling to hold it in, not force it out. When he wielded, his hands were always flexed, palm out, or curved around an imaginary object. Like he wanted to grasp his magic and yank it back.

Somewhat sombrely, I wondered what my magic could have been like had I been born with any.

But the display brought my attention back to the present.

Eventually, both of them were panting, their chests heaving in and out.

“Who won?” Audrie called with far too much glee after seeing them throw magic around like it was a party trick.

“I did.” Gavrin shrugged. “Naturally.”

Denora, hand on hip, shook her head like he was delusional.

I laughed and walked to them. No injuries or marks on them. No new grey hairs or wrinkles. Like the magic had never been.

“And the cost? Doesn’t that worry you?”

Maybe they were shocked that I didn’t know about the magical cost. Had Kaed not told them I had no magic?

“Magic costs us, yes. But magic with intent to do harm or to control does far more than magic like this.” Denora waved her hand, and an orb of purplish red bobbed above her palm. “This is minimal. We can use magic daily. It’s the punishing use of power that drains us.”

“The stronger the fae, the deeper the well,” Gavrin added, his hulking form flexing as he gathered up his sword. “The deeper the well, the longer it takes to touch the edges of our immortality.”

I nodded, the knowledge soaking into me. It was unsettling to be so unaware of how magic worked and to be surrounded by it daily.