Chapter 14: Ottelio (Part 3).

  ****

  Along the Sotria river. Month: 94, Year: 226.

  Everything went still as the tangled growth burned under white and red flame alike. The only sound was that of scorching plantlife under flames. Then the red fire faltered, smothered and consumed by the white until only one remained.

  Otto and Onahi’s bodies vanished from the ground, their outlines fading like a broken mirage.

  Moments later, Otto crawled out from beneath the scorched undergrowth, now lit only by the soft, hungry glow of white flame.

  “That’s a very handy trick,” Otto said, stretching despite the pain from the plant's needles. He reached back, grasping a hand wreathed in white flame and pulling Onahi out from beneath the bush.

  He’d always admired how credible her mirages became when she truly focused. He’d even layered shields over the illusion, just enough to mimic resistance and recoil.

  And the stony spikes, though costly in magic, had been worth every drop of effort. They worked even better than expected. Seeing his lightning swallowed by stone pushed the Drakvari leader from tactical to furious, and from furious to dumb and impulsive.

  “I’m just glad they were nervous enough to believe it,” she said, wincing as she pushed through the vines. “Your fairyfire only caught the one that was in the front, the other two just fell for the illusion and their own anxiety.”

  Another figure crawled out from beneath the Kyrralis vine, wincing at the plant’s sting but clearly relieved. She looked a little younger than Onahi, and she carefully shielded an even smaller figure as they emerged. Then she stepped aside, revealing the young Drakvari princess, Princess Sulaye.

  “Thank you so much for saving us,” the worker said, her voice shaking with pain and relief. “I’m Qilani, Princess Sulaye’s assistant.” She brushed dirt and bits of vine from the princess’s clothes. “And this is Princess Sulaye.”

  The princess watched as the white flames finally died out, her gaze lingering on the half-scorched bush. “Why didn’t we burn?” she asked, her hand still wrapped in faint, flickering light.

  “Fairyfire only devours magic,” Onahi said with a reassuring smile. “It doesn’t harm the body. And don’t worry, Your Highness, our magic will recover.” She tried to soften the words with a gentle gesture, despite the ache in her skin.

  “What about the fire they threw at us?” Qilani asked, staring at the Kyrralis vine, still standing despite the attack.

  “Same reason,” Otto replied, forcing the words past the ache in his chest. “If the flames were magical, it devours those too.”

  The sound of hooves reached him, distant but reassuring. Relief finally loosened its grip, and his body paid the price. His knees buckled, and he would have fallen face first on the ground if Onahi hadn’t caught him in time.

  As she did, the last traces of white flame flickered out and vanished.

  Onahi leaned down and flicked her tongue against his cheek, just an instant. “Bitter,” she said softly. “You’ve used too much magic.”

  She guided him down, easing his head onto her lap. “It’s over, Otto. Rest. They’ll come for us.”

  Nearby, the princess knelt while assistant Qilani waved and called for the cavalry’s attention.

  “Annoying flying bastards,” Otto muttered, eyes closing, then winced at himself. He’d said it in Solenya’s tongue. Thankfully, the child hadn’t understood.

  He glanced up at Onahi. “They’re technically bastards, right?”

  She smiled, shrugging. “By Haksari definition? We're all bastards, Otto.” She said, trying to contain a laugh.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  It took a few more minutes for the cavalry to arrive, joined by Captain Tekira’s retreating forces. The Kyrralis vine still lived, but its magic was spent; it was unlikely to survive the long night.

  “I’m sorry,” Qilani murmured, brushing a hand along the battered vines.

  “Captain!” Princess Sulaye ran to Tekira, fear finally breaking into relief. “I was so scared.”

  “You’re safe now, Your Highness,” the captain said, kneeling and bowing as far as her tired body allowed her in order to meet her comparatively tiny stature. “There’s still work to do, but the worst has passed.”

  Without warning, Onahi let Otto’s head slip to the ground. -Plop-. His occipital hit the floor while she shifted in the other direction, violently emptying her stomach.

  “Are you all right?” Qilani asked in alarm. “Did you overuse your magic too?”

  “No,” Onahi managed between heaves. “I’ve been holding it in,” another heave, “ever since I flew on Marego.”

  Marego nudged her gently with his head, and Princess Sulaye patted her back as Onahi struggled to catch her breath.

  Hours later, safe aboard the ship, Otto lay awake in the dark, shifting as pain pulsed through him. Now that his body had finally relaxed, it demanded payment for the day’s events. Sweat clung cold to his skin, still bitter. A dull ache spread evenly through his limbs. The places where the Kyrralis vine had touched him burned sharply. Everywhere except his head, spared by the helmet.

  He glanced at the helmet beside the bed and huffed softly. I’m not giving her the satisfaction of saying I told you so.

  It had been a long time since he’d felt this wrecked. And he knew. Everyone knew, you couldn’t push yourself like this repeatedly. Otherwise, the toxic effects of magic overuse could permanently poison your blood.

  Knock-Knock-Knock.

  “Come back later,” he called, loud enough to carry through the door.

  “I’m coming in, Otto.” Onahi’s voice answered.

  After a brief pause, she stepped into the dimly lit room. Barefoot, wrapped in a patient’s gown, she moved slowly toward him.

  “You’re not my Queen or my Princess,” she said playfully. “You don’t get to give me orders, Otto.”

  She sat on the edge of his bed and set the tray of food onto the nearby table.

  She studied him as he shifted from lying to sitting.

  “You look terrible."

  “I feel terrible.”

  Her fingers traced lightly along his arm. “And you’re all covered in bruises and scratches too.” She moved closer as if anticipating she might have to catch him if he faltered again.

  She looked down. “Thank you. For helping us.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary?” he asked.

  “I was,” she said with a small shrug. “I got stitches.” She said proudly as she showed him her arm, covered now in bandages on the place where she had cut herself to extract blood to fuel the Fairyfire.

  She signed. “It was crowded. Others needed the beds more than I did.” Her gaze drifted around the empty cabin filled now with medical equipment. “Not all of us have your privileges, Otto.”

  She took a spoonful of fruit salad, eating slowly. “Want some?”

  Instead of answering, he reached for a plate and spoon of his own, and smiled faintly. “Thanks.”

  He winced as he tried to guide the spoon toward his mouth, hands trembling more than he would have liked.

  “Here, let me,” Onahi said, plucking the spoon from him before he could protest and guiding it to his mouth.

  He made a face halfway between a smile and a surrender. “This is embarrassing. I never wanted anyone to see me this helpless.”

  “There’s nothing embarrassing about how you fought today,” she said. “Or about… this.” Her eyes softened, lingering on him longer than she meant to. “I know you said you helped us because of accords, and treaties, and all that… But I’m seriously very thankful, Otto. You’re a hero, and so is Marego.”

  The grateful words seemed to make her shift awkwardly where she was sitting. She straightened, cleared her throat, and abruptly changed subjects and tone to a more playful one. “However. Your Auron tongue? That, you should be embarrassed about. I’ve been teaching you for nearly thirty months. Nearly a whole quarter-year. I had to translate for you. What's that about?”

  “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “It was pretty bad,” she insisted, barely containing a laugh as she nudged the spoon between his teeth. “Meanwhile, I am quite proficient in both the language of Solenya and the language of Auron.” She tapped her sternum proudly.

  “You’re cheating, Onahi! You’ve been living in Ferano the entire time, surrounded by people who speak the language. I rely solely on you to teach me.”

  “Excuses, Otto! And from a guy who claims to be a high and mighty Haksari lord, no less.” She said laughing.

  "Absoloutely shameful."

  Dear Uncle Achello,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I write with an urgent request that may place an unexpected burden upon your hospitality.

  Due to unforeseen events, we will require temporary asylum at your manor and warm shelter for the duration of the long night. We are currently traveling with no fewer than two hundred people, including several Drakvari from Kalista. I ask, with respect, whether you might be able to receive us under these circumstances.

  I apologize for the short notice and would be grateful for any preparations you are able to make. Thank you for your understanding.

  -Ottelio Calesso of Ferano.

  Qilani's Campaign.

  Chapter 16: Qilani II (Part 1).

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.