5/ The King's Training

Lewin clasped iron shackles over Avira's wrists. They were tight and slightly heavy, chafing her skin with the slightest movement. Another guard, Daris, clutched her by the elbow and yanked her along. Due to years of captivity, she had learned the names of guards who she constantly saw. Few were entrusted with the knowledge of Avira's presence within the castle, allowing the same people to take her to and from her chambers.

She was led through a series of twists and turns, veering from one corridor to the next. Worn-out stones shaped the walls. They curved inwards to form a tunnel-like passage. Though the area was built underground, it was as large and spacious as the castle above it. So many hallways interconnected and diverged into different directions. Avira never had the freedom nor privilege of exploring this place as she was either in her chambers or with Maester Enzar. They made another turn. Although she had memorized the route to their destination, she often wondered if the guards ever got lost in this maze.

After slowly passing minutes, they reached the King's Study. Lewin rapped thrice on the door and stepped back, waiting. A click unlocked the hardwood barrier. Taking that as an invitation, he turned the handle and they guided her in before silently exiting to the hallway.

Avira's emerald gaze swept over the familiar room. Two shelves lay at either side of the room, rising to the ceiling. The one to her left held several leather-bound books. Some appeared old, others newer, but all testified to proper conditioning and care. The other rack carried various objects from different origins, all with ancient backgrounds. Skulls from strange creatures, dark jars and vials, rare stones, glimmering jewels, intimidating statuettes and other items she couldn't identify. With each visit, her curiosity dimmed to caution. Such oddities were not meant to be gawked at.

Finally, her eyes trained on the man before her. His head was bent over a piece of paper, long golden hair with strips of silver rolling over his shoulders. Slender fingers clutched a quill pen, fluidly moving over the parchment. The soft scribbling of the pen on paper irked on her nerves. Avira remained rooted to the spot, using the time to tame her thoughts and thudding heart. 

The scratch of pen on paper abruptly stopped, jarring Avira from her mind. King Brannon neatly tucked the document in a leather folder then set it aside. Steepling his fingers, he met her stare. Bright violet eyes pierced her own, searching, demanding. She had forgotten how intense his gaze was. Just a glance made Avira's skin crawl as though millions of tiny insects were marching all over her body. Suppressing a shiver, she cautiously slid her eyes to his other features.

High cheekbones rested below his eyes. His light pink lips curved downwards ever so slightly. With a strong jawline cupping his face, he became more than handsome. Beautiful, she thought. Like a marble statue carved to perfection, sharp features claiming one's attention. Sculpted as he was, Avira sensed the cold demeanor seep through his ethereal mask.

He rose from his chair and moved around his desk. His dark brown robe concealed what he wore underneath, only revealing his leather pants and heavy boots. Despite his heavy attire, he moved with the grace of a dancer, more gliding than walking over the stone floor. 

As he grew closer, Avira felt the urge to shrink away. His presence became overbearing, making her feel like a small kitten in the presence of a mighty lion. His power transuded through his pores, filling the air around him like an aura. Though he was not an Arcane like her, he still bore power. He was an Ephira, one of the elder races of the Ancient World. Ephiran magic was almost like Arcane magic, but stronger and more powerful. She had only seen him perform menial acts of it but didn't doubt the power he wielded.

Once he stood before her, she angled her head to see his face. Looking into his eyes, she felt his presence sinking through her own green eyes. A shiver snaked around her spine and she quickly avoided his overwhelming stare.

"How is your training?" His low voice resonated through her frame.

Swallowing, she replied, "It is going well, your majesty."

"Do you think it is at a steady pace?"

"Yes, my lord."

He said nothing more. Instead, he delicately placed two fingers onto her forehead. A splinter of power shot through her mind, like lightning rolling over storm clouds. Before the invasion could manifest into pain, he withdrew his power, leaving her out of breath.

He clasped his hands behind his back. "Not fast enough," he murmured. 

She glanced up quizzically, watching him move back and slowly pace around the small room. "My lord?"

"The King of Aseria is to arrive in a few days' time. I plan to present you to him. I need you to display your abilities, what you have been trained to do. He did not approve of what I was doing at first, but he is becoming desperate. He wants to win this war. He will accept an alliance but only if you are prepared." He swiveled to look at her. "That is why I have conversed with the High Maester. He and I have come to an solution that will test how much you can do as of now."

Avira's fingers dug into her palms to stop herself from making a sound, causing her shackles to jangle softly. She didn't know what they had in mind but from her latest training exercises, she grasped that it wasn't good.

King Brannon went to his desk and took something. In his hands lay the small black box that held the pendant. Striding to Avira, he withdrew the sapphire necklace and settled it around her neck. The instant cool yet calming wash of power made her close her eyes with content.

The King made for the door, with Avira reluctantly following him. As she stepped into the small hallway, she saw the guards from before. Lewin unlocked the manacles and they slid off instantly to the floor with a clutter. Gently rubbing her raw wrists, she looked up to see the two guards nod to their King before turning to leave. Avira creased her brow. Why were they leaving?

"This way," the King instructed, almost making her jump. He marched forward, then veered left. Seeing him disappear behind the corner, she trailed in his wake warily. After making the curve she saw him a few ways ahead. When she finally caught up, she noticed he had paused. A flaming torch flicked shadows back and forth, dimly illuminating the path. Glancing past his tall form, she saw why he had stopped. A dead end.  Confusion filtered through her. Why was he just standing there? 

Suddenly he reached out with his right hand, pressing his palm against the wall. After a few heartbeats, the brick beneath his hand glowed with a light blue hue. It diffused to the whole wall before dissipating. Then it began to tremble. The stones shuddered as if coming to life. With a groan the wall slowly opened up, sliding to the right. As it widened, the King slipped through the space, leaving Avira to gape at the spectacle open-mouthed. Once the entire wall disappeared, she noticed King Brannon watching her. 

Swallowing nervously, she tentatively went through the artificial pathway. As soon as she did, the wall scraped the floor as it shifted to close once more. Avira swiveled to observe the wall shut itself with a heavy thud. Dust drifted lazily at the impact, causing a tickle at the back of her nose.  Finally, she turned to take in her new surroundings. Her breath left her lungs at the sight. Before her lay an expansive room, as large as the throne room above. She hadn't seen this much space in a very long time as she was always in small, confining quarters. Seeing all this was like being given a taste of freedom, even though it was just a wisp of it.

Something slammed next to her. She turned to her right and noticed a door for the first time. Next to it was a glass pane as long as she was tall. Through it, she noticed two still figures. Maester Enzar and King Brannon. There they stood, watching as though expecting something to happen. Bewilderment masked her features. What was going on?

She felt rather than heard it. Instantly, she ducked and it whizzed by. She looked behind to see an arrow lodged into the wall. Jumping to her feet, her eyes flew over the room, searching for the archer. She noted that ledges were constructed above the ground along the walls, wide enough for one to walk around in. Few torches illuminated the area, giving a little light for her to observe the room. She spotted him, crouched low on a ledge. He took another arrow from his quiver and aimed. He released it and it flew to her. With a flick of her hand, she deterred its path and diverted it to her left. 

A loud thud echoed behind her. Spinning on the balls of her feet, she spied another form, sword in hand. He charged furiously and swung his blade at her. She dodged the attack. He lunged again and she jumped right. Swiftly, she forced her elbow against his arm. The hard force made him drop his sword but he didn't stop. He drove his fist to her face, colliding with her cheek. Pain throbbed over the bruise but she ignored it. He tried to hit her again but she narrowly missed it. So quick she didn't see it, he jumped in the air, spun and  kicked her hard on her face. The impact sent her flying to the ground with a jarring thud.

Black spots danced around her vision. Her head throbbed with a piercing ache. Through the pain, she saw him make his way to her, clutching his sword once more. Instinct took over. Cold numbed her senses. He brought his hand up, raised for the killing blow. Avira's arm stretched outwards, released her power onto him. The man froze. Her fingers curled slowly. The blade fell from his grasp as the man's hands flew to his throat. Avira tightened his windpipe, preventing any intake of breath. He gasped and choked, wide eyes bulging in fear. She flicked her wrist. A snap silenced him as his neck broke. His body went limp, plummeting to the floor.

More dull thumps met the ground. Avira rose to her feet and turned. At least seven men were situated before her, armed with weaponry. Glancing up, she saw two archers. They both released their arrows. They sped for her, eager to penetrate her flesh. She slowed their descent, flipped them around and changed their course for the archers. The two arrows flew to them before plunging into their heads. 

The other attackers charged forward. Fixing her gaze on them, she extended her reach to each of them. Although she had never used her magic on these many people at once, she knew she had the ability to do so. Her power swam over them but didn't stop them. Just when the closest was but three feet away, she clenched her fist. Instantly they all collapsed to the ground, blood trailing from their noses, rolling from their eyes, seeping from their ears.

Avira stood there, taking in the scene. Slowly, her mind cleared from the cold mist that fogged her brain. At the sight of bodies littering the floor and blood washing the stones her heart clenched. Bile threatened to rise but she forced it down.

The door swung open as the High Maester and King Brannon strode to her.

"Her instincts are magnificent," the Maester Enzar noted.

"Yes," the King agreed. "They are. She just needs more practice." He turned to the Maester. "How many people make up one squad?"

"Ten, my lord."

"Send in the next three."