Six of Ruin (Heirs of Irenwell #1)

The moment we crossed over the Bastian border, the forest turned significantly colder. A bone-deep cold, caused not so much by weather, but the overall vibe lingering in the air. I snuggled into Frank’s fur and pulled the blanket over my body. The warthog’s tail wagged.

Night had fallen.

We were resting in the woods. Sounds around were scarce, almost nothing but an occasional nocturnal animal and the cracking of fire. Owls hooted. Mice ran around. Nickeltinker and Ace chatted around the fire. Rixen read one of the books I carried with me.

Torvald and Danilo hunted our dinner for the night.

I was already starving and I was so terribly cold. We had been travelling for almost a week since Balr. The memory of the explosion was still strong, as if it happened moments ago. The book in my hands felt heavy. Not just because of its weight, but because of its content.

Ars Magica, the book I dreaded to read. What I dreaded more was how I swallowed every word like it was a terrible lullaby. A story you desperately needed to hear, even though it might give you nightmares.

The first sentence upon opening the book read, The origin of magic is unknown.

That sentence alone was enough to completely shift my world-view. This power, however big it might be, came from somewhere. And we, as a species, did not know where.

Many scholars have tried to answer the question. Each had a theory and each theory was explained in detail. None were good enough.

One thing was certain – even if the mages’ magic came from one single source, its manifestations were different. Therefore, there were two classes of mages, earth mages and mind mages.

Earth mages, which was Ace, manipulated the physical world, the elements. Even though they had the potential to master all elements, most mages would barely master one in their lifetime. Those who mastered at least one element were High Mages.

Ace was a High Mage, which meant he was a master of an element.

And then there were mind mages. Which, according to Ace, was me. Mind mages manipulated the mind of their victims. Most of their power consisted of persuasion and small-scale illusions; they could make people see what they wanted or do what they wanted. During the Kingdom of Naz, mind mages weren’t able to become High Mages. Their power was considered vile, perverse, pervasive.

A diablerie. Diabolic magic.

I closed the book and hid it in my suitcase.

Nickeltinker and Ace shut up the moment I joined them around the fire.

“Ace, what’s aether?” I asked, deciding I might as well let him explain the book to me.

“A plane.” Ace said. “Space between space. The place where, according to some scholars, magic comes from. Some mages have limited access to it.”

“Do you?”

The mage squinted, “What do you think?”

His answer could mean both yes and no.

My mind went back to the Gyorg seer in Balr, who said Ace wanted her to send a message to aether. Beware of the pixies. Whatever it meant, it was a warning for those that could hear it. Ace was sending messages to other mages and it made me queasy.

I lowered my voice, “Are mages the only ones with access to aether?”

Rixen looked up from his book, understanding the ulterior motive behind my words. Him paying attention to my words was a huge step forward in our relationship since that unfortunate incident when I completely accidentally entered the forbidden parts of his mind. I felt awful; even more because he ignored me.

I was so caught up in Rixen drama that I barely registered it took Ace a while to answer.

Finally, he chugged his liquor and answered, “They used to be.”

“Used to be?” Rixen put the book down and came closer to the fire.

Ace shrugged, “Before I messed that whole thing up for them.”

Rixen and I looked at each other, realising he was giving us an interesting piece of information.

“What did you do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

“Mages were a little... angry after the Kingdom of Naz fell. Which was understandable considering humans wiped us out.” Ace looked at me pointedly. “After two hundred or so years, they turned into elitist pricks, much like your knight. So, I opened aether to other creatures to teach them a lesson. Cost me fifty years of my life.”

“How- how did you do that?” I stuttered, suddenly wondering about the scope of his power. He was the High Mage after all.

Ace laughed dryly, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to, Princess.”

“Which creatures are allowed to enter aether now?” Rixen cut in.

“There has to be magic in their veins.” Ace said. “Magic-less beings cannot survive in aether; the energy kills them. Still, entering aether is a skill. Only trained individuals can enter.”

“Like seers from Gyorg?” I murmured, untactfully.

Rixen eyed me, but I brushed it off.

“Now, why would you ask such a question?” The mage asked.

Ace did not trust humans, or anyone else. And as much as I liked scheming behind his back, there was a better approach – winning his trust. That required honesty on my side.

“She told us about your message to aether.” I shrugged and tried to maintain eye-contact with him.

It was difficult. His green eyes danced, liquid in his irises moving and swaying, peeling off layers of my soul with one gaze.

“What did you give her in return?” He kept on staring at me.

“My kiss.”

Ace chuckled, “Which means you’re either very dumb or you have no idea what that means.”

I finally averted my gaze, finding comfort in the sight of fire, “What does it mean?”

“Princess’s kiss is a powerful thing. Princess’s kiss has created alliances between kingdoms which either led them to the peak of their power or to their doom.” Ace said. “When used as a spell, it makes men gullible, susceptible, easy to control.”

“So, Gyorg seers want to control men.” I chuckled. “Good to know.”

“Gyorg seers are exclusively women.” Ace said, without even a hint of humour in his voice.

“They truly want to control men?” I asked.

Queasiness flooded me, the same feeling that occurred when I knew I made a mistake.

“Anyway,” Ace continued, not answering my question, “You’ll pay the price for giving away your kiss. So I hope the information you sold it for is worth it.”

“What kind of a price?” Rixen asked before I could.

His fists slightly clenched, and even though I couldn’t feel him because he still refused to let me in, I sensed concern in his posture. He worried about me. Ace’s ominous words could not stop the warm, tingly feeling in my belly when I realised Rixen might care for me.

“It’s still a stolen kiss.” Ace said. “It’s a kiss her Grace will inevitably lose.”

“What’s one kiss in a lifetime?” I shrugged, but the mage had already planted the seed of suspicion.

Before anyone could say anything else, Danilo and Torvald walked out of the forest. Danilo carried a dead boar on his back and Torvald carried a very much alive, brown rabbit in his hands.

Nickeltinker’s eyes grew wide, “Rabbit stew for dinner?”

“Ugh, no.” Torvald kept the rabbit close to his chest. “Mine.”

Danilo threw the boar on the ground, “Someone should prepare it.”

“Uh, I can cook it.” I shrugged. “But there’s no way in three hells I’m cleaning its insides.”

“Alright, your Grace.” Danilo chuckled. “But I don’t want any complaints later on.”

He proceeded to clean the boar.

“Ugh, Rixen?” Torvald played with the rabbit while Frank the warthog tried to get in on the fun. But the beast scared the rabbit half to death.

Rixen glanced at Torvald and sighed, “Torvald wants to share something.”

We turned to the giant.

“Uh,” Torvald patted the rabbit, “Liu Raj.”

Rixen cleared his throat, “Torvald’s people used to hunt in the Spirit territory, ages ago. Which meant they had to cross the lake of Liu Raj quite often. There was a tradition in his tribe, which you might find... odd. Before reaching Liu Raj, each member of the companionship had to share something, a secret, a story, something like that.”

“Sounds like a stupid tradition.” Ace mumbled.

I eyed him, “Don’t tell me mages don’t have their own dumb traditions.”

Nick nodded, “I believe I heard something like that once, in the Bordering City. Liu Raj requires one secret and one wish from each person. Giants used to prepare themselves by getting to know each other first.”

“Uh-huh.” Torvald grunted. “Important. To know, ugh, people.”

“I already know everything I need to know about all of you.” Ace gulped the liquor.

“It’s no wonder you have no friends.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Uh, I, first.” Torvald glanced at Rixen, as if telling him to go on.

Rixen sighed, “Torvald wants to go first, and since he has trouble communicating, I’ll tell his story.”

We sat still around the fire. Torvald patted the rabbit, Danilo quietly cleaned the boar and Ace yawned.

“Torvald was born in Gaddir, an eastern town in the mountains beyond the Bastian border.” Rixen began. “Since he was a baby, he’s been trained to be a murderer. That’s all he’s ever known.”

Torvald’s eyes slightly darkened.

“When his chief commander sent him and his companions to wipe out a village near their town, Torvald had a change of heart.” Rixen continued.

“Children.” Torvald growled. “Can’t, uh, kill.”

“They wanted him to murder children.” Rixen glanced at Torvald, “And he refused. But he wasn’t strong enough to fight his commander, so he searched for the Eastern Witch to grant him the power to kill him.”

“Mallia?” Ace laughed out loud. “You searched for Mallia? She’s an absolute bitch, no wonder you’re cursed.”

Torvald’s eyes sparked with anger and to my surprise, the mage’s laughter ceased.

“The witch gave him the axe.” Rixen said. “It gives him strength and endurance, but in return, he carries his every murder as a burden on his soul. The weight is slowly eating at his humanity. That’s why he can’t speak.”

“That’s bleak.” Nick murmured.

“Why can’t he just leave the axe?” I whispered.

Ace chuckled. “It’s a weapon made for the sole purpose of murder, acquired from a witch. If you murder once, you’re always a murderer.”

Torvald nodded.

Did I murder that man who tried to rape me? Did I lose some small part of my soul too?

Nickeltinker cleared his throat, “I have a story from my hometown, as well!”

“That’s great.” Ace mumbled.

“It’s about the first and the best thing I ever stole.” The green-skinned boy grinned. “A bag of potatoes!”

“Didn’t you rob the Firiyan Wise Men?” Rixen squinted. “And the Main Bank?”

“Anyway,” Nick waved away, “My sister had this friend, the daughter of the richest man in the town and coincidentally, the man I worked for. He was a cheap asshole and his daughter was a little bitch, even when she was nine. She kept taunting my sister with the potatoes, because she couldn’t afford something like that.”

“Potatoes are cheap.” Danilo looked up from the boar.

“In Bastia, sure.” Nick nodded. “You cannot cultivate potatoes on the Isles of Shira. For us, eating potatoes was a luxury. Anyway, I stole the bag from that little girl and gave all the potatoes to my sister. She was so happy; I’ve never seen her smile like that.”

“What happened then?” I asked. “Stealing from a nine-year-old sounds fairly easy.”

Nick shrugged, “They found out and banished me. I can never return home.”

Silence fell over our little group.

Even Danilo’s eyes filled with sympathy, “Over a bag of potatoes?”

“I was twelve when I boarded the ship to the Bordering City.” Nick said. “I’ve been stealing ever since. And to this day, I don’t regret it.”

“You should send them a bunch of potatoes.” I suggested. “To show them you’re better off. I mean, who is this guy? He’s just some asshole. You’re going to be a hero.”

“Some of us don’t get to be heroes, Princess.” Nick’s tone shifted to serious.

“Well, this has gotten depressing.” Ace got up. “I have zero interest getting to know you, especially since chances are most of you won’t survive. Call me when dinner’s ready.”

Danilo glanced up at the mage, “I pray God has mercy on your soul.”

Ace’s eyes darkened, “Your gods are heretics to me and when I hear you pray, I feel second-hand embarrassment.”

A different sort of silence settled between us. Nick looked at the ground, Torvald moved away from the fire and continued on playing with the rabbit. They felt disregarded. They told their stories and Ace found them uninteresting, unimportant.

“Why don’t you tell us a story, Ace?” Danilo said, surprising me. He was usually either silent or offended. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty; like that time you singlehandedly wiped out an entire town of ten thousand people.”

Ace faced Danilo, rage churning in his pupils.

“What?” I glanced at Danilo. “When was this?”

“You may hate Bastians, but we hate you back equally.” Danilo said. “You wiped out Nazzir, the only human settlement in the Kingdom of Naz.”

“They murdered my people.” Ace’s voice dropped, sending shivers down my spine.

As casually as possible, we all got up, finding it difficult to sit during this argument. Tensions have been rising ever since someone blew up our ships. Now, it was on the verge of spilling over.

“You killed them a hundred years after the Kingdom of Naz fell.” Danilo pushed. “They were Bastians! They were women and children!”

“Ah, the moral knight decides it’s his turn to be righteous!” Ace chuckled. “How many boys have you murdered on the battlefield? How many towns hadn’t had enough soldiers and sent their youngest into the battle? I bet they didn’t even know how to swing properly.”

Danilo backed away slightly, “I was doing what I had to for my Kingdom.”

“So was I!” Ace roared, the sound sending birds flying from the safety of their nests. “Before you hold up a mirror in front of someone’s face, make sure to look into it first.”

No one said a word. Ace’s eyes danced across our faces, the green inside turning into waves of rage. The air shifted; it turned denser and moister. I could almost feel Ace’s magic reaching the surface and how hard he fought to actually keep it down.

“You’re all pathetic.” Ace let out a laugh. “Stupid, immature idiots, risking your lives for something you don’t even understand. I won’t be there to save you from your own stupidity. I don’t give a fuck about your stories, or your hopes and dreams. Why would I care about the lives of dead men?”

He snatched the bag of liquor and walked away from the clearing, leaving us all slightly more broken.