Alfirean Age Book 1 - Inheritor of Strength

Hidden Powers

 ***A few minutes ago***

The world shook and flames raced out to engulf Olivia.

With heartrending terror, reality crashed back in around her, and she threw her arms up as the wall of crimson fire charged towards her, blotting out the horizon. Mere inches before it devoured her, the flames slammed into a glistening blue barrier of energy and flowed off to the left and right.

Olivia took several halting steps backward, her heart thudding in her chest, and lowered her hands.

Enough is enough, she thought, mentally slapping herself as she watched Alf’s fire rage about her.

Olivia, remember who you are.

You’re not a simpleton who panted after a boy all her life.

You are an orphan who grabbed herself by the bootstraps and pulled herself up to become one of the Empire’s top healers.

You're a girl who has fought through every obstacle, pushed through every hindrance, and rose to the top to become a teacher, a healer, and-.

The explosion billowed skyward, and Alf’s shield shattered.

As blue pieces of magic rained down about her, Olivia jutted out her chin, and with defiance in her eyes, she met the raging heat as it washed over her.

No! I am not a weak, insipid woman who will let herself be intimidated by a mere boy. Nor am I one to sit back idly on the sidelines and let a prince change my friend into a tool for revenge.

Alf may be different, but he’s still Alfonso, and I will see to it that he remains so.

And with her own words ringing in her mind, Olivia came to a decision. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the heat and soot swirling around her and brought all of her energy to bear against the seal within her—a seal placed on her at eight years old by sixteen of the world’s best healers shortly after Alfonso's father had opened her magic.

The special seal hovered in her mind, glowing gold and covered with ancient script. As Olivia pushed against it, the seal withstood her efforts, refusing to budge. But Olivia would not be stopped. Reaching deep within, she gathered more energy and directed it towards the seal. Little by little, a hairline c***k appeared along its golden length. Then, taking a deep breath, she pushed again with everything she had. The seal snapped. And with an explosion of light, it broke cleanly in half and then faded away, forever dispelled.

All at once, the knowledge and spells of holy magic roared to life as holy energy flooded through her brain, activating dormant neural pathways and connecting her understanding of healing magic to the inactive holy spell patterns.

She had done it.

She had broken the seal.

***

At Olivia’s statement, Harold’s blood ran cold.

Twelve years ago, Alfonso's father had opened Olivia's magic. It was a day of great rejoicing, and at the same time, a day of great turmoil, for it was discovered she possessed holy magic.

Of all the magic, holy magic was the rarest and could only be obtained through bloodline. For that reason, and others, anyone found to possess holy magic was 'pressed' into service, oftentimes by the most powerful noble or the Emperor, whichever had the most political clout at the time.

And worst of all, if they were girls, such as Olivia, they were often coerced into bearing their master's children.

Harold clenched his jaw as this particular thought evoked painful memories. 

The courtyard and training ground fell away as Olivia turned around and once again said in a loud, distinct voice, “I know of holy magic, and I will show you.”

Their eyes met, and Harold’s heart sunk. From the defiance in her expression, he knew she had broken the seal—the seal he and fifteen other healers went through a great deal of pain, study, and work to create so she could live a normal life.

Now her secret was out, and she would be claimed... just like Elena.

Olivia smiled—a small, secretive smile as if she knew something he didn't—shook her head and mouthed the words, “I won't.” Then she turned her attention to the shocked townspeople and students.

Harold raised his hand and covered his eyes. She thought because the Empire was in turmoil, she was safe, but Harold knew reality to be far harsher than that.

***

Olivia almost faltered at the pain she saw in Harold’s eyes, but she turned her back to him. Unlike so many before her, she was strong and capable enough of defending herself, thanks to his sacrifice.

No one would be claiming her as their prize. Her eyes darted to the prince, who stared intensely at her. Especially not him. And she would make that abundantly clear right now.

With a snap of her fingers, she dispelled the light spell she and Alf had erected, plunging the training field and courtyard into a pool of shadows.

Raising her right hand, she channeled energy to the hibernating white blood cells. As the energy flowed through her arm and out through her palm, a golden glow sprung forth, flooding the surrounding darkness.

A loud murmur of excitement rose from the crowd, and a female student shouted, “Look, her magic is golden.”

“Oh, don’t be fooled. It’s just a light spell,” Viktor scolded.

Olivia grinned and closed her hand, but instead of the energy dissipating, as she had intended, it intensified, taking on a life of its own.

She gasped as it traveled up her arm in gentle waves and settled over her heart. Like warm honey, the golden light melted into her, and in a sudden shockwave, all the dormant holy cells within her blazed to life.

Olivia lit up from within. Starting from her core, the light spread out across her chest, into her arms, and down her legs.

The exhaustion she'd felt from the last few intensive hours faded away, and euphoria flooded her being as the magic traveled up her neck and flowed into her mouth, nose, and ears. All at once, her senses came alive. She could taste the ashes lingering in the air, smell the ripened fruits from the far orchards, and hear the sound of tiny animals skittering about in the jungle.

Then the light poured into her deep, brown eyes, and like embers in a fire, they lit up, transforming into a brilliant aureolin gold. At last, the wave of sun-kissed energy reached her temple, and in one final explosion of light, Olivia's long dark tresses burst into shimmering waves of golden strands.

There, in the middle of the moon-clad night, Olivia's figure shined brilliantly, like a candle burning in the darkest of nights.

Then, ever so slowly, the light and feelings of euphoria dissipated and faded away.

Olivia opened her eyes to see everyone staring at her, their jaws hanging open, their eyes as large as saucers. Transfixed at her transformation, those in the crowd stumbled back in awe.

"Her eyes! They're glowing," someone screamed.

“That's no light spell,” Larne exclaimed.

***

Alf couldn't believe his eyes. Olivia's skin glowed like the brilliance of a sunset, and her white robes shimmered like the Milkyway at night. Standing in the middle of her light, she looked like the legendary angels of old mentioned within the ancient texts.

Olivia's a holy user, Alf thought in amazement.

But... how is that possible? And how come she never told me?

A sweet fragrance drifted in the wind, and a flock of white doves landed in the trees. A sense of wonderment overtook him. The moment seemed surreal as if it had leaped straight out of the pages of a fantasy novel.

Is this real? he thought.

Then the blinding light dimmed, and Olivia's form reemerged from its luminescent cocoon. Only her eyes and hair continued to glow, casting a faint light about her.

Someone in the crowd yelled, but Alf heard nothing as Olivia turned to him and smiled. 

“Alf, if you could, would you please make some clay targets?”

Alf stared transfixed at Olivia, unable to think or move as her golden eyes met his. She had always been beautiful, but now no words could describe the celestial entity standing before him.

“Alf.”

"ALF."

Her word shattered his dreamlike stance, and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

“Oh, uh.. sorry. What did you need?” he stuttered.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, “Clay soldiers.”

Alf felt like dropping dead in embarrassment, but he managed to squeak out, “S..sure.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Looking away, she raised her voice to address the crowd. “The spell I am about to cast is immensely powerful, but do not be alarmed. Holy magic is different from other combat magic. It heals those the caster marks as allies and damages only that which the caster desires. I have designated all of you as friends, so you'll be safe.”

The students cast nervous glances at each other and edged backward. After what I’ve done, I can’t blame them, Alf thought to himself as he jogged up to the edge of the jagged black plot that was once the training field and knelt down.

"Are you certain this is a good idea, miss?" Mister Goodwin called from the courtyard. "I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea of being hit by a powerful spell, dangerous or not."

“I assure you, everything will be alright,” Olivia said, making her way over to Alf.

She knelt beside him and giving Alf a small, mischievous grin—the kind they had shared many times before his incident—she closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Alf’s mind burned with thousands of questions; how was it possible Olivia could use holy magic? How come she'd never told him? Why did she decide to do this now? And why not some other time?

 “Targets,” she reminded him in a teasing tone.

Alf pushed his burning curiosity aside, and placing both hands on the ground, he channeled energy deep into the dirt. Like monoliths rising from the ground, clay soldiers rose up through the black crust of the earth.

“Looks like we're about to get a light show. Let’s hope she didn’t forget to mark someone,” Viktor said pointedly.

Alf didn’t have to glance back to know who Viktor was looking at.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. It wasn’t my friends that put the python in her desk last night,” Larne laughed.

Alf rolled his eyes. Those two never stopped bickering.

Rising to his feet, he cast one last glance at Olivia and then made his way back behind the broken safety pillars.

Everyone fell quiet.

There Olivia knelt in the dirt, her head bowed, her praying hands placed under her chin.

Suddenly, the dim glow around Olivia flared to life again; the ground beneath her hummed, and the doves exploded into the sky.

Streams of light flowed across her back and gathered at her shoulder blades. Tiny particles of glimmering air formed a shape at the nape of her neck, and whispers ran the length of the crowd. Then, in a flash of light, a giant set of wings erupted from Olivia’s shoulders.

Alf stumbled back as his breath caught in his chest. He gazed in awe at Olivia’s silvery-white, dove-like wings, which spanned the entire length of her body.

The people gasped: their gazes transfixed and unmoving.

Like an angel awakening from a long sleep, Olivia lifted up her face, unfolded her wings, and rose to her feet, her entire body glowing with a heavenly aurora.

Crouching, she flapped her wings and rocketed skyward. As she flew towards the heavens, a powerful wind swept ash in all directions, and a single white feather floated down to the ground.

Olivia rose till she was higher than the manor. Then, with gentle beats of her wings, she suspended herself in the air. As she hovered in the starlit night, she raised her arms and aimed them straight down at the training ground.

A golden beam shot forth from her hands and raced towards the field below. Moments before impact, it stopped midair, and a small sun blazed into existence at its tip.

The sun hovered in the sky, casting a ring of light on the land.  Energy flowed from Olivia's hands once again, and as she fed a continuous stream of energy into the sphere, it expanded and doubled in size.

Upon reaching the size of a large durian fruit, shafts of light shot forth from the sun, slicing all of Alf’s terra-cotta warriors in half as if they were nothing more than paper mache.

Still, Olivia continued channeling energy into the makeshift sun—despite the destruction of the targets—and Alf watched in slack-jawed wonder as it rapidly swelled in size.

As it grew even larger, the globe pulsated, and the shafts of light morphed into giant rays. Hundreds of miniature solar flares erupted from its glowing depths and seared deep grooves into the ground. The flares then continued to travel outwards, reaching farther and farther till they shot past the observation line and into the courtyard. As a fiery beam cut through the protective pillars, an older man scrambled to escape.

But he didn't move fast enough.

The ray of light shot straight through him, and he screamed in horror as he fell to the ground, twitching. He laid in the sand, clutching his chest and screaming his lungs out. Then he stopped.

"Oh, get up, ye old codger," an elderly woman said. "Ye ain't dead. In fact, I've never seen ya look better."

The man climbed to his feet, a sheepish expression on his face. He rubbed the back of his head and said with amazement in his voice, "Truth is, I've never felt so good either."

At last, the sun hit its peak, and Olivia stopped feeding it magic. As the beam faded away, the sun began to collapse in upon itself.

Inch by inch, the golden ball of fire consumed the energy stabilizing it, and as it absorbed the very last drop, it folded in on itself in an epic display of beauty and light as it went supernova.

Blinding waves of radiant, white light blotted out the world, and Alf covered his eyes. The explosion flooded over him in wave after majestic wave, each time increasing in radiance. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it disappeared, leaving nothing but the darkness of night in its wake.

Alf rubbed his eyelids and stared out over the field. As his eyes readjusted, an overwhelming sight greeted him

“The entire training ground is gone,” Danarc shouted from behind him.

For the first time in Danarc’s life, he'd managed to understate the situation, Alf thought. The entire training ground wasn’t just gone; it was nonexistent. In its place, a massive crater gaped, extending down dozens of feet.

Leaning forward, Alf stared into its depths.

“My knee! My knee! It’s healed,” Mister Dinwiddie screeched.

Alf spun around. Several lights sprung to life around the older gentleman as the townspeople cast light spells. A handful of people stood within the twinkling lights, looking dazed and confused. 

“Look. Look. I’m healed,” Mister Dinwiddie threw his cane up into the air and started dancing around. An expression of pure joy graced his features; his eyes shone bright with laughter; his smile gleamed in the night, and his fluffy pompom bounced up and down as if it, too, joined in the celebration.

Alf watched in amazement. Mister Dinwiddie used to be an adventurer before he took an arrow to the knee. At the time, Harold had not yet invented his signature healing spell, and it had been impossible to heal the fellow's wound properly. Since then, the older man had refused to let anyone look at it.

As more lights blinked into existence around him, Alf heard a rising hum from the crowd. It started as faint whispers, grew into louder exclamations, and then broke into yells of joy.

"My acne is gone," a girl squealed.

"My silk pajamas, they're fixed," a boy hollered.

"My head. It ain't bald nomore," an older fellow declared as he rubbed his head over and over again.

"Keep at it, and you're going to rub those hairs right out," Mr. Wong commented.

Everyone laughed, and Alf stared on in wonder. Every last one of the townsfolk and students looked as if they had spent a month in a beauty salon; their hair gleamed; their skin glowed, and all their skin blemishes, burns, and bruises had disappeared.

Even the land itself was healed. The scorch marks on the trees had vanished. The flowers in the courtyard had bloomed as if it were daylight, and the walls of the manor had been polished to a shine.

He couldn’t believe that Olivia had-

Wait, where is Olivia? he thought in alarm.

He turned his eyes skyward and scanned the horizon, a feeling of desperation rising inside of him.

There! In the night sky, Olivia hovered still glowing. She weakly flapped her wings above the edge of the crater, attempting to stay airborne, but as he watched, her eyes closed, and her wings faded away. And like a ragdoll tossed into the air, she tumbled towards the ground.