Secrets of Magic (Soul of Magic Book 3)

ONE

As Kyra stared out of the window of the Wiccan tower into the courtyard below, she couldn't help but feel very proud of all that she had accomplished.

Two years ago, she was just the Soul of magic, a girl birthed by the High wizards as their plan to ensure the survival of the wizards from the darkness which was their hunt and destruction at that time. And she did fight to save the wizards, established an alliance with the humans that brought peace to them and the realm, and then she fought again to ensure that that alliance and peace was maintained.

But Kyra wasn’t looking out of the window then as only the Soul of magic. Thing is, she had also become the Head witch.

In truth, her journey to the Blessed Isle in the beginning had had nothing to do with becoming the Head witch. She had actually come with Lucian, her very good friend and protector, to the island to raise up the Wiccan tower back up from the ruins left behind by Nicolas the Vanquisher, the late king of the great kingdom of Cyrian and the man who had brought about the idea that the wizards were a dangerous bunch who needed to be wiped off the face of the realm. It was the late king's unexpected attack on the island that triggered the Great Conflict which was a seventeen-year long m******e of the wizards.

"Do you think you can raise the tower back up exactly the way it was?" Lucian had asked her as he looked around, the pain and anger clearly evident on his face at the sight of the rubble that remained of what the wizards used to consider as their seat of power and an indomitable fortress; Nicolas had certainly taken to prove those points wrong in the most cruel and bloodiest way possible.

"I can," Kyra replied, although the Soul of magic wasn't very sure of it at that time; there was nothing left in sight but desolation and she had never pushed her power so far as to fix something so vast as an entire island. “I can do this,” she said again, reassuring Lucian as much as herself. "And I'll make it even better than before."

And with that promise firm in mind, she stepped back, closed her eyes as she willed her power up in a combination of spells that she had been practicing for weeks specifically for that moment and released its full weight on the destroyed Blessed Isle.

The power was so great that it came out in a torrential wave of green energy which caused the earth to quake and the waters surrounding the island to rise up to the level so high that they completely blocked out the sun for some seconds. And then, the energy hit and began to seep into the ground.

Immediately, the dead and burnt trees regained life with a touch of the energy and they began to grow again; new plants even springing out of the ground alongside them. Willow trees as giant and glorious as in the tales told of the Blessed Isle stretched out their branches and birds so many that their songs carried on the wind for miles flew out of them, landing on the ground just as lawns and cobblestone paths rose out to replace the previously ashy ground.

And just as Kyra thought she wouldn't be able to will her power anymore, the remaining green energy of the spell still in the air transformed into a whirlwind that seemed to almost touch the sky and out of it, giant stones appeared. They joined together and with the energy still roving through the ground, they were held together and the Wiccan tower was built in the form of a majestic four-storey castle that truly depicted what the wizard’s new seat of power should look like; as everything else did in the resurrected Blessed Isle.

It was in that moment that Kyra finally took a breath and the spell ended; the rest of it vanishing in a whoosh that sent a cold wind in every direction.

“Good, isn’t it?” the Soul of magic turned to say to Lucian who could only stand and gape in awe at what had just appeared out of nothing right in front of his eyes. The blonde-haired warrior was reminded once again why he held so much reverence for the seemly all-powerful girl who stood in front of him.

But Kyra’s extensive use of her power wasn’t to come without its repercussion. Just as she heaved a sigh of relief, she suddenly felt herself get short of breath. And then her eyes rolled upwards and she collapsed onto a lawn nearby.

“Kyra!” Lucian shouted, running to check on the Soul of magic whom the blonde-haired warrior realised had fainted. Quickly, he got her on the horse which they had ridden to the isle and took her to a Healer who had to tend to the unresponsive girl for weeks.

But despite how it seemed, Kyra survived her illness. And when she was well enough to appear in public again, in gratitude, wizards all over the realm unanimously named her Head witch; the first to be appointed unopposed in a very long time. She became known as Kyra, Soul of magic, Defender of the people, Defeater of darkness, Resurrector of the Blessed Isle and the Wiccan tower, and Head witch of the realm.

Two years since then, under Kyra’s leadership, the wizards had become a prosperous group with the power to almost rival even the great kingdoms; just as they were before Nicolas launched his campaign against them. Her people loved her and the humans respected her. And together, they made the Soul of magic’s reign all the more peaceful.

But Kyra wasn’t prepared to take that peace for granted like the High wizards had done before. She ensured that the Blessed Isle was physically and magically protected at all times. Runes covered every inch and square of the isle, all of them fuelled by her and the newly appointed High wizards to serve as wards against any threat that could be posed to the area. Added to that, soldiers patrolled the shoreline on horses and the waters in ships. The Protectors, they were called; an elite group of able-bodied Nulls who had been handpicked and trained in combat by Lucian himself for the defense of the isle in battle against invaders. They also extended into smaller groups, one of which Lucian led at that moment, and dispersed all over the realm in order to oversee and protect both the wizards and the humans in addition to the efforts of the different armies of the established human states guarding each territory.

A gentle breeze passed through the courtyard just then and Kyra’s attention turned to a green banner which fluttered against her window, bringing a smile to her face. The banner bore the picture of a pentagram covered in vines on it; it was the official symbol of the magic community and a reminder of how well they had come from their days of nigh annihilation back into the light of glory they deserved.

But the banner was only half of the reason why the Soul of magic had smiled. Thing is, turning to face the banner put her sight directly on a garden where a group of young witches of about six to ten years old were training. They were Healers, Minders, Seers; practically every kind of witch with powers of special purposes that had shown exceptional talent in their areas. They had been found from all over the realm and recruited on Kyra's orders to be taught in whatever area they were gifted in.

The Soul of magic’s thought for the young witches was simple, really; to make them as powerful as they could be so that they would be able to protect the realm against powerful magical foes in case of her absence. Though Kyra was still young and obviously had a lot more years to live, the truth remained that she was mortal. She wasn't going to live forever and she was just as vulnerable to attack that any normal witch was. There was no guarantee whatsoever that the Soul of magic power would remain should she meet her demise and that was why the young witches were important. They were her legacy, a way for her and her purpose to live on even after she might be gone.

Just as Kyra was watching a young Minder trying to communicate with a bird, she heard a knock on the door to her chamber and her thoughts jerked back to the present. "Come in," she said, moving from the window to sit behind her table as a guard entered in and bowed. "Yes?"

"Sorry to disturb you my lady but the council has arrived,” he said. “They’ve been directed to await your presence in the great hall."

"Thank you," she returned with a smile. "Tell them I'll be right along."

"Yes, my lady", he replied, bowing once more before taking his leave.

Meeting with the council of magic was one of the daily routines as the Head witch that Kyra didn’t look forward. It was a hour, sometimes two, full of nothing but reports that bothered on numbers, incidents, opinions, and suggestions; and even as avid as the Soul of magic was towards obtaining knowledge, listening to five people go on and on for a long time can get pretty tiresome pretty fast. Lucian usually helped to the meetings lighter on her with his presence and comic quips. But the blonde-haired warrior was out somewhere in the realm's main land attending to some business as regards wizard security and so, wouldn't be returning any time soon to help with the meetings anymore.

However, it was also important to note that the meetings were also the only way that Kyra really got to know in details how well the wizards were faring under her watch and she considered that very utmost to her; she was still first and foremost their protector after all.

And so, without wasting any time, Kyra picked up a few scrolls from her table and made to join the council in the great hall of the Wiccan tower when a pale-blonde witch suddenly came in. “My lady,” the witch greeted.

"Lady Saffron," returned the Soul of magic, a little stunned to see the witch standing there; Lady Saffron was actually a High wizard and thus, a part of the council that Kyra was supposed to go and see. "I thought we were meeting in the great hall with the rest of the council," she said.

"We are, my lady," replied Lady Saffron, but she still made no effort to move.

Thing is, out of all the High wizards, Lady Saffron was the calmest and most collected of them all. Even when issues arose in her area of oversight or she was engaged in an argument in the council, she never lost her composure. But the pale-blonde witch in front of Kyra was fidgeting so visibly that it was a wonder that she was still able to stand on her own feet at all; and that caused the Soul of magic great worry.

“Is something the matter, Lady Saffron?” she asked, unable to hold back her own fidgeting.

“Nothing much, my lady,” she replied, trying to keep calm but the expression in her eyes wasn’t. "It’s just something of great importance that we need to discuss beforehand."

"Okay, perhaps we can-"

"No!" the pale-blonde witch cut in so quickly and grabbed Kyra's hand with much force that every hair on the Soul of magic’s body stood straight; something was definitely wrong. "Not here, my lady."

Kyra let herself be led by Saffron up the stairs to the room on the highest floor of the tower, catching herself more than a few times from asking what was so important that they had to go to all that level of secrecy.

The door finally closed behind the room and the lock turned and she said, "Perhaps now, you can..." But whatever statement the Soul of magic was going to make trailed off with her voice as she turned to see Saffron's previously worrying look turn into a predatory one. "Lady Saffron," she called, now with caution in her voice. "What exactly are we doing here?"

"Exactly what I said, my lady, we're here to discuss a matter of great importance," she replied, and she raised her hand up just as a bright red energy formed at the top of it. "You."