The scene dangerously resembling the night my father died.
Unbearable, sweltering heat licked my arms and back the next second, just like that night, and the large scar along my torso sizzled in response. My arm shield began to heat up, the metal scorching my skin until I wanted to rip it from my body.
“Stop this!” I demanded, fighting the memory that had haunted me my entire life.
“Stop this,” he replied, unnervingly calm while my skin felt like it was melting. “Take us somewhere else.”
It was a test.
All of this was a fucking test.
Before I could consciously make the decision, my magic reacted. The edges of the burning room shimmered again, swaying before our eyes until a soft and refreshing breeze caressed my body. Large trees appeared where the rising flames once were, sand replaced the scorching wooden floors, and bright blue skies with dancing clouds substituted the falling ceiling.
Before, a raging fire had consumed everything in its path, now a peaceful shore lay across from us, its turquoise waters extending as far as my eyes could see.
Whirling around, I held on to a nearby tree, coughing the smoke out of my lungs and fervently breathing in the clean air. The heat that engulfed my body a moment ago no longer existed. The arm shield was perfectly cool to the touch, and my skin unblemished.
“Why?” I threw the word like poison over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes at Raithian only to find an unashamed smile tilt his lips.
“If you want me to train you properly, I need to assess the reach of your gifts.” The staff suddenly appeared in his grasp, and he used it like a walking stick, moving towards a large boulder at the entrance to the forest to sit.
Taking a settling breath that filled my lungs with relief, I straightened and took a closer look at the area. It was the lake at the beginning of the Woodlands, the same one where I’d come to after finding out about my dad, and the one I always used to cross into the Lake of Tranquility to see my mom.
Still, that was not the realization that left me speechless. This was also the lake from Azazel’s memory. The place where he found my mother and claimed me as his soulmate. There was a reason I kept returning to this place, the same reason I brought us here today. This was my sanctuary. The one place my soul remembered from Caelisium.
“Do not be too impressed by what you have done, I mastered Reality Bending when I was seven years old.”
His jab was meant to make me feel less than him, but I ignored it, focusing on the reality I created—just in case I lost hold of whatever this was. Was this my own kind of mindscape?
“You are trying too hard,” Raithian added, calling my attention back to him. “Magic does not require thinking. If you will it to be, then it shall be.”
Okay, Yoda.
“You know, I cannot decide if that little stunt of yours, with Azazel, was just a reckless attempt to be a hero, or a blatant display of stupidity.” His gaze focused on the dancing waters of the lake while he considered it, its breeze fluttering the purple cloak he wore. “I mean, thinking that you would somehow be able to undo the kind of power I hold over that beast—when you do not even have control over your own—does not give me much confidence for your capacity to think critically, Braxton.”
“He is not a beast, and no Dragon deserves you torturing them and using them as your—”
“Not a beast?” Raithian asked, flabbergasted. “He has killed most of your people, threatened your precious kingdom, and your princess, and you still hold some misguided notion that he is like the rest of the Dragons? That he can be saved?” Lighthearted laughter rumbled in his chest, and he shook his head at me like I was a silly child. “Stupidity it is.”
My muscles tensed with his ridicule, hands fisting at both sides while I seethed. Maybe he was right. Maybe Azazel could no longer be saved, and me ever having any hope of helping him was just stupid.
Sighing, the Warlock King stood to face me, his eyes boring into mine as though searching for something.
“There is a force inside you, Braxton. I can feel it throbbing in the air, hear its whispers singing in the wind. Power is calling for you to answer…” Granules of sand shuffled with his steps, his cloak carving a path on the ground. “I will train you,” he declared, as though he had finally made up his mind.
“I didn’t come here for—”
He waved dismissively at me, like we both knew my protests were in vain.
“If you hope to keep that delusion of yours alive, that you can one day kill me, then you need to become a true Wizard. One capable of holding his own in a battle against me, at least for a mere moment. Those unconscious impulses of yours might help you stay alive for now, but they will not serve you when I finally decide that I have had enough of your annoying meddling.”
“You want a fair fight?” I countered, seeing a glimmer of excitement ignite in his grey eyes.
“Well, I could just kill you now, but where would the fun be in that?” He shrugged. “It has been a while since anyone was able to offer me any kind of challenge… It gets boring after you have lived as long as I have. You will never be as powerful as I am, of course, but at the very least you will not die in the first three sun-minutes.”
I hated that I needed him, but I did, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. If I had any hope of defeating the Warlock King, I had to find a way to learn the full extent of my Devenish magic, and my enemy was the only one who knew how to wield it. That didn’t mean I couldn’t take advantage of him thinking I was an idiot and make a play to protect my people too.
“If you want me, then you get me and me alone,” I warned, my eyes boring into his while I pointed a finger at him. “You forget about the princess. You forget about our people. You don’t even look in the direction of our kingdom, understood? This is between you and me, Raithian. And I come to you in the mindscape; you don’t come looking for me.”
A sinister yet triumphant smile slowly curved The Warlock’s lips. “We are bargaining now, are we? If you really think you are in any position to demand anything from me, then you must be more stupid than I thought. I could end you right here, right now.”
“But you won’t,” I declared, squaring up to him, “because your interest in my magic is far greater to you than your desire to kill another one of us. You won’t touch any of our Dragons either,” I continued. “And Azazel—”
“Now, now, Braxton. You are recklessly overestimating your worth,” he contended, though a profound amusement captured his every feature. This was a game to him. “You do not honestly believe I would give you Azazel. Do you?”
No. But I had to try. “This has to be worthwhile for me to risk so much, otherwise—”
“More worthwhile than possibly gaining the power to end me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Letting me underestimate you so you can get everything you want out of this, is actually quite brilliant… I have to admit, I find negotiating with you to be a refreshing change. Invigorating, if you will.”
Advancing his staff, he stepped closer.
“I will meet you halfway, Braxton. I will not touch a hair on your princess, your people, or your flying pets. Nevertheless, I will never release the beast.” Drumming his fingers against the wooden handle, he tilted his head. “But will you accept, say… a hundred slaves in his stead?”