Soul of Magic (Soul of Magic Book 1)

SEVENTEEN

It had been a long time since Kyra had wanted to take a stroll and finally, she got her wish.

After their run-in with Tristan of Begermen, the events of which still came back to haunt the Soul of magic in her darkest moments, she and Lucian had decided to stay a while in the area; choosing to make camp not so far from the castle. They would have embarked on the journey to meet up with the other wizards in the valley earlier, if they were still there, but Lucian had been in no condition to travel after his ordeal and Kyra wasn't feeling any better. The energy she had wielded against Tristan and his men had taken a great toll on her and she developed a fever so erratic that Lucian began to fear that she would die.

But she did recover and got strong enough to decide to venture into the forest that day to exercise her body and clear her head, telling Lucian that she was going to pick some berries in order for them to supplement their incessant meat consumption of the past few days with another sort of nutrition.

However, she didn't get to pick the berries as she went butterfly-chasing instead; an exercise that reminded her so much of her childhood days. It got to a time that it seemed the butterflies themselves were coming to her of their own volition. Perhaps because they trusted her or because she was the Soul of magic and was unknowingly controlling them. Either way, they kept her company and she loved every minute of it, touching her every now and then so lightly that it made her laugh and the sound of it carried through the forest with such joy that the breeze and sunlight seemed to return back to her; and she suspected they were.

It wasn't until evening that she finally tore herself away from the beautiful creatures long enough to actually pick the berries. She had barely picked a handful when she suddenly heard someone run into the clearing.

Looking up, she saw a boy, a man actually, who looked as surprised as she was to see him. He was putting on an armour and held a dagger loosely in his hand. But what really got her attention was his signet. It bore an engraving of two snakes coiled round a sword with an eagle wing on either side of it. It was the crest of the great house of Winchmore, ruling house of the great Kingdom of Cyrian. But more importantly, it was the crest of Nicolas the Vanquisher, killer of wizards.

Richard saw as the girl’s eyes went wide in fear when she saw him appear. It was as if the captain of demon horde of the Void himself had come onto her.

However, her frightened appearance aside, the prince had to admit she was quite pretty; very beautiful in fact. Her brown eyes shone in the setting sun as they widened, her hair let loose to sway in the breeze that had begun to blow, giving her a sensual look. All in all, she wasn't bad-looking.

But his eyes went to her chain and it was his turn to gasp. It was the exact miniature of the pentagram he'd seen in the castle; and the vines on it seemed to come alive too as soon as he looked at them.

Kyra knew the exact moment he realised her for what she really was. She felt his eyes zero in on Fara's chain and the fact that he suddenly gripped the dagger so hard his knuckles turned white warned her of what his next move might be.

However, before either of them could snap out of their stunned state to actually do something, Lucian suddenly burst out of the trees, shouting at Kyra to run as he rammed into Richard.

Richard had been so concentrated on Kyra that he didn't see Lucian rush at him, the sudden force jarring him to the bones as their bodies met. The both of them rolled and sprang back to their feet so swiftly that it was as if they had been doing it their whole lives.

Richard's hand went to his armour and a surprised look appeared on his face as he felt the deep dent in it; the boy had just dented his steel armour with just his body and he wasn't even showing any sign of pain. Lucian, on the other hand, didn't give Richard time to think about it as he rushed at him again, his sword drawn this time.

Unfortunately for Richard, he had lost his dagger during the roll and he was left weaponless as Lucian charged at him. Anyway, he braced himself for the attack and ducked just as the sword came for his head, rolling right underneath Lucian's sword arm and picking up the dagger as he went. He slashed at Lucian but could only cut his clothes; not that the latter was any happier about it.

"You're so going to pay for that, Prince," he spat at Richard as he surveyed his ruined clothes, disdain feeling his eyes as he looked at the latter again.

Both of them suddenly charged at each other with a battle cry; Richard's dagger going up against Lucian's sword. But the size of both weapons didn't seem to matter as their wielders dueled. Lucian's strength was very telling on Richard's muscle, each clash causing the prince to wince in pain. But he kept fighting on even as his energy waned.

Suddenly, Lucian brought his sword down for a strike, putting all his strength behind it. The resulting force was so much that it broke Richard's dagger and slashed open his palm as it went. But contrary to what he had expected, the prince didn't stop even for a second as he went in for a leg sweep, catching the surprised Lucian off guard and tripping him to fall backwards and his head hit the ground hard as he fell.

The fall was so great that the fight was temporarily knocked out of Lucian and he lay down unmoving for a while. Seeing his opening and although his hand was bleeding profusely, Richard still went for Lucian's sword.

However, no sooner had the prince’s hand gripped the sword that a very high-pitched screech suddenly shot through his head and he screamed in pain. It was the girl, he realized when he looked up to see her walking over to him with her hand outstretched. Her eyes were all-white, he discovered with a start; almost like her pupils had suddenly receded and she was seeing through something else. All of a sudden, he began to hear voices emanating from everywhere and everything. They were trying to him something but the language in which they spoke was strange to him; and he knew quite a number of them.

“Listen, son of Nicolas,” the girl said to him as she touched his head; but the voice sounded nothing like her voice should normally do. “The Soul of magic commands it.” And as if he was gifted with a knowledge he didn’t have before, Richard could suddenly understand what the voices were trying to tell him.

Immediately, the prince’s body went numb as a strange feeling washed over his body and he fell to the ground, panting as he closed his eyes and finally gave in to what the voices had been suggesting to him all along; he surrendered.