Chapter: 45: Weapons of Air

“Art!” I shouted, hammering my fist against the wooden door to his studio.

Nothing happened, and I knocked again—harder than before.

Finally, the handle twisted, and the door slowly opened to grant me access.

“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until I—”

I stopped talking when I realized I was shouting at empty air. No one was standing before me to receive my words of discontent.

“Good afternoon, Willow.”

My brow furrowed when I noticed Art standing near the enormous panorama window by the far end of the room.

He’d probably commanded the wind to open the door for him instead of moving his heavy feet on his own—what a waste of power.

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” I grumbled, closing the door behind me the old-fashioned way.

Art turned around and greeted me with a pleased smile. It made me nervous.

“You performed far beyond my expectations yesterday. How could I not be in a good mood?” he asked, folding his hands behind his straightened back.

He usually did that when trying to act like the wise master I’d been promised. The master they all thought he was.

I snorted loudly, stepping farther into the room. “You mean when I was almost sucked dry by the Faceless Shifter?” I said, flipping through the random documents in front of me.

Lightning crackled through my veins, striking my pounding heart with paralyzing heat as an impossible gust stole the papers from my hands.

“You did much more than that.”

Art now stood beside me, seemingly untouched by the massive amount of energy it would’ve cost him to teleport.

This was the first time I’d ever witnessed him demonstrate even a mere fraction of his true power, and it was now more evident than ever why Caiden had referred to Art as one of the great masters.

No one could do something as demanding as teleporting and then stand there, smiling, as if the practice was nothing but a mild exercise.

Even Miss Naoise had shown faint signs of exhaustion when she’d teleported me to Art’s door the day I first met him. Art displayed nothing like that, and I admit it intimidated me a little.

“You weren’t sucked dry by the creature of the Blaze; you fought back, and you won, like I knew you would,” Art continued, looking at me with proud eyes.

Caiden had already informed me that it was Art who had convinced them to grant me more time than I should’ve had for me to build the courage I needed to fight the Faceless Shifter.

He directly admitted it to be true, but I still somehow found it hard to believe that Art had this much confidence in me when he regularly complained about my abilities during our sessions.

“You have proven to me that you have mastered sufficient control of your powers. I believe it is time for you to take the next step,” Art said, gesturing for me to follow him as he turned around.

It took a moment for me to realize the meaning behind Art’s words.

My dry lips cracked when they pulled into a wide grin, energy skipping sparks of excitement across my heated skin. It was the first time Art had praised me like that.

“So, what is the next step?” I asked, skipping closer to Art, more inspired to learn than ever.

Art stopped in front of a long, wooden chest, intricate patterns of bronze decorating the bridge.

My heart flipped, and my breath caught in my throat when the end of a long stick stopped a single inch from my face.

“Take it,” Art said when I kept staring at it, frozen in place.

Reluctantly, I lowered my shoulders and wrapped my fingers around the smooth wood. The stick was long, but there was nothing immediately special about it.

“What is it?” I asked, twisting it to look for markings of any kind.

“A staff,” Art said, turning around to approach one of the wine-colored drapes hanging from the ceiling.

I sighed, deeply annoyed at his smugness. “I can see that,” I said, raising the staff, “but what’s it for?”

Art didn’t answer me. Instead, he wrapped his hand in the fabric in front of him and pulled the thing from its arrangement.

The textile danced in the air as it gracefully descended toward the ground.

I exhaled softly, my brows raising in a speechless arc as the drapes revealed a glass enclosure encasing the most beautiful weapons I’d ever seen—weapons I’d only ever heard of.

Every Iridis faction had a particular weapon designed to suit and enhance their abilities.

Earth mastered the skill of archery by crafting anything from the ground or the forest into bows and arrows.

Water were given the hilt of a sword and could use their ability to form any desired blade or whip deadlier than any blade ever created.

Fire handled the ring blades. Aside from their deadly blade, a Fire Iridis could use the inner ring to focus their fire and launch a destructive beam of plasma.

Then there were us—air. We had the storm fans, and these were no ordinary hand fans.

Some were the size of a small horse and could produce storms large enough to destroy entire cities. Others were the size of large daggers, able to serve as discreet blades when the guards were folded.

According to a legend from long ago, an air wielder once used this weapon to prevent a massive hurricane from destroying the Golden Castle by canceling the vigorous wind.

However, the storm fans weren’t the only weapon we mastered.

For the untrained eye, the board below the exhibited fans would appear like the average toy. Only, once the air was adequately manipulated, it allowed an Air Iridis to surf on the invisible winds.

I blinked when Art stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the gorgeous weapons.

“When you’re ready, those weapons will be yours too,” Art said, turning me around to guide me to one of the rare cleared areas of Art’s studio. “First, you must master wielding a simpler weapon.”

I looked down at the primitive staff in my hand, then shifted my gaze to the weapons locked away behind the glass.

“But this thing looks nothing like the weapons I’m supposed to wield,” I said, pointing the end of the staff at the storm fans.

Art put a hand on my new staff and lowered it before he pulled it out of my hands.

“The storm fan is a complicated weapon to master because the leaf disperses the energy you propagate through it.

“The staff leaves you with only one path to direct your power.

“It is a disciplinary tool used by the Templars to teach their younglings how the weapon is meant to be understood as an extension of your body and not just a weapon to be handled. It is also less…dangerous.”

Art placed the tip of the staff against his forearm, so it acted as an extended addition to his arm, just like he’d described. Then he closed his eyes and began moving.

Papers and small objects flew everywhere as Art danced across the floor like a graceful predator, striking the empty air with deadly precision.

I had to step back not to be entirely consumed by the massive power Art was releasing.

“This choreography is called ~The Dance of the Dragon~,” Art said, exhaling intent as he stopped in front of me, the staff standing balanced on the floor.

Reluctantly, I reached out for it.

“It’s a series of steps that every Air Iridis must master before being allowed to wield the storm fans.

“I would have preferred for you to have achieved complete mastery of your abilities before I allowed you to handle any weapon.

“However, given the rate at which the suitors are being eliminated, I’m afraid we don’t have that kind of time.”

I quirked my brow as a strange feeling of unease settled in the depths of my gut.

Phase two had barely begun. Theoretically, we should still have plenty of time left together.

“Why does it sound like we’re in a hurry?” I asked with a nervous chuckle.

“The next trial could require you to rely on your powers. We need you to be ready before that happens.

“I would like to teach you much more than a few months can give us, but we do not have that luxury with the Crown Trials interfering.

“Therefore, I would like to see you here twice a week instead of our current arrangements.”

I forced myself to return his smile, but I sensed that he wasn’t telling me the entire truth.

He’d told me that trust and honesty between a student and her teacher were necessary for a successful bond to exist, so why would he be trying to lie?

I opened my mouth to confront him, but I was hit by his staff before I could force the words across my lips.

“Straighten your back,” Art said, poking the muscle between my shoulder blades. “Allow the staff to operate as part of your arm.”

I exhaled through my nose despondently.

Art had shifted to his ~teacher mode~. I wouldn’t get any answers to my questions now, even if I demanded it.

“Good,” Art said when I finally mirrored his posture. “Close your eyes and feel the staff become part of you. Then force your powers through it.”

Summoning my powers felt strangely easy compared to a few days ago.

Perhaps Art hadn’t been entirely mistaken about my progress. It definitely felt like I controlled my powers and not the other way around like before.

The ghost of a smile stretched my lips as I directed the shifting energy in my body to my arm. Then it reached the tips of my fingers, and I furrowed my brow as I tried transferring it to the staff.

However, forcing my powers through an object was not like moving it through my own body.

A loud explosion forced the staff out of my hand.

“Cursed blood!” I yelled and clenched my throbbing hand closer to my chest as the staff landed a few tables away.

Art was smiling, amused, as I turned my head to look at him, searching for answers. It was as if he’d expected that to happen.

“Wielding your powers through an object is not the same as your body,” Art explained.

“It’s not genetically designed to hold the same amount of energy your body does. It requires absolute control to direct and command energy through the weapon.”

I suppressed another sigh. Mastering air was much more complicated than I’d previously believed.

“First,” Art said, capturing my attention again. “You must master the staff physically. Forget that it is an object and see it as an extension of your body.”

“And how do I do that?” I asked, leaning on the staff like Art used to do on his.

Then the staff disappeared under me, and I fell forward to land on the floor with a new bruise on my shoulder.

“Practice,” Art said, grinning smugly as he leaned over me, blocking my view of the naked ceiling. “I’m going to teach you a dance. Master that dance, and I will teach you how to include the staff.”

Another dance?

Art couldn’t be serious, could he?

***

Art had been deadly serious.

I turned right toward the infirmary, careful not to stretch my arm farther than the large bruise that Art’s cursed staff had inflicted. Unfortunately, that bruise was only one out of many.

It was a miracle that the healers hadn’t asked why I often showed up unannounced with more bruises than the clumsiest Iridis could’ve inflicted in a day.

They probably didn’t dare ask, but I didn’t like how they always eyed me with judging glares when they thought I wasn’t looking. However, I did look forward to feeling their powers taking my pain away.

Apart from my arm, the worst bruises were probably the ones on my legs. I wasn’t as flexible as Art would’ve liked me to be, and it showed.

I exhaled deeply when I rounded the corner closest to the infirmary. I would soon be able to return to my chamber and relish the comfort of my cloud-like bed.

“Miss Aldwyn.”

I stopped in my tracks and turned around to see King Alaric approaching me. “Just the suitor I hoped to meet,” he said, smiling softly.

My legs stopped shaking, and I forced my body into a proper pose despite the pain it induced.

“Your Majesty,” I said and curtsied, clenching my jaw so I didn’t grunt as my leg cramped.

“Good afternoon, Miss Aldwyn,” King Alaric said, nodding his head to acknowledge my refined behavior. “I am pleased to see you—”

He paused when he eyed the bruise above my eye and collarbone.

“Well, moderately unscathed after the first trial. Is it safe to assume that my brother might have something to do with your current condition?”

I nodded reluctantly, avoiding his gaze.

My contract did allow me to discuss my training with the king.

“Ah, yes. Arthur’s procedures have always been rather merciless but effective nonetheless.”

The king paused without relaxing his face, staring at me as if he expected me to answer.

“Well, Miss Aldwyn,” the king said, clearing his throat when I remained silent. “I have a few matters I would like to discuss with you, so I hope you will allow me to accompany you to the infirmary.”

I could see the door to the infirmary from where we stood. We would be there in less than a minute, but I didn’t want to deny the golden king his request.

I wrapped my bruised arm around his and let him lead the way.

“First,” he said, sighing deeply as he covered my hand with his. “I would like to sincerely apologize for your experience with the Raeewh.

“We had taken every precaution to ensure the suitors would be safe during that trial, but the creature must have somehow broken one of our mind seals.

“However, I was pleased to witness the way you handled the situation. You could have been a fine choice for Atlas and Heliac’s queen if you had been a legal suitor.”

My heart fluttered in my chest as if a feather was tickling its walls.

It was electrifying to know that the king was proud of my hard work, but it didn’t feel like this strange disturbance in my chest was solely caused by the exhilaration of having my efforts recognized.

“I understand that my oldest son may have had something to do with your advancement,” King Alaric continued, and my chest constricted anxiously.

“As proud as I am of my son’s desire to help you, I am concerned that it may compromise his commitment to the Crown Trials and his duties to the crown.

“So, I need you to remember why you are here and help Atlas do the same.

“You seem like a lovely woman, Miss Aldwyn, but we cannot have you distracting him from the real purpose of the Crown Trials.”

King Alaric kept smiling at me.

It was a disturbing sight, but his words didn’t necessarily sound like a personal accusation. Although, they didn’t strike me as particularly friendly either.

“I have no intention of interfering with the Crown Trials,” I assured the awaiting king.

“Prince Atlas has simply been kind to help me gain control of my abilities, which is one of the primary reasons Master Arthur has now advanced my training.”

“Moreover, I already have a favorite suitor, and I would never risk jeopardizing her opportunity to find happiness with someone as kind and considerate as your son.”

“Good,” King Alaric said and slowed down. “Atlas has always had a weakness for helping souls in need, such as yourself.

“I do not wish to obstruct your progress, but I believe it may be best if you distance yourself from him.”

It was a reasonable suggestion. I didn’t want to spoil Piper’s chance of winning the crown just because I kept bothering Caiden with my trivial problems.

Then an idea sparked in my mind.

“I will do my best to honor your advice, King Alaric,” I said, clenching the loose fabric of my pants.

“However, during my previous training with the crown prince, he showed me a hidden tunnel from the air wing to the battle arena that we could use without being detected by the cameras.

“I just haven’t figured out how to access that tunnel without him.”

King Alaric chuckled, which was the one reaction I hadn’t expected. “Only the royals and a few selected people have access to those tunnels,” he explained.

“However, if it enables you to practice without causing suspicion, then… Could I borrow your crystal for a moment, Miss Aldwyn?”

We’d been explicitly advised not to take the necklace off unless we slept or showered, but I supposed if the golden king asked me to do it, I could hardly be responsible for breaking a rule.

I took it off and placed it in his hand without questioning his intentions. “Thank you,” he said, placing his hand on the other before closing his eyes.

A few seconds passed when nothing happened. Then he opened his eyes again and gave me my necklace back.

“What did you do?” I asked as I locked it around my neck again.

“I gave you access to the tunnel that leads to the battle arena. However, I expect you to handle this responsibility like the lady Miss Pride has taught you to be. Are we clear on the terms?”

“Yes. Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said and curtsied before he let me go to find the infirmary.

The nurses treated my bruises and made them disappear as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Faye had gone home for the night when I finally reached my room, and I didn’t feel like joining the others in the parlor. So, I changed into my nightgown and went straight to bed.

It had been a long day, and I was sure the next few days would feel even longer.

Then another thought crossed my mind, and a smile brushed my lips.

Art had acknowledged that I was ready for the next step of my training—to master the weapons of air.

I was one step closer to going home.

We were only fourteen suitors left. The second phase would begin soon, and then we’d be allowed to spend time with Caiden alone.

Perhaps I could convince him to spend our mandatory consorts training instead. I was sure King Alaric wouldn’t mind that.

However, shaking King Alaric’s words was difficult, and I wondered if Caiden believed the same.

I turned around in my bed, hugging one of the giant pillows closer.

Could I have been a good queen? Could I have won Caiden’s heart and become his wife if I had been a real suitor?

~What a strange thought.~

^End of Book One^