Chapter 30:
The Council of Six
The silver plate of golden sweetcorn simmers. It’s already afternoon, and I’ve yet to eat. While the corn may smell sweet, it turns into a bitter mush in my mouth. I’d rather be eating with Trevus, but there’s no way he’d ever share a meal with me again.
“You don’t like it?” Ametha asks. Her voice is soft and tender, as if speaking too loudly may cause me to shatter.
The servant reaches for my silver plate. “Let me fix our lady something else,” he says.
“It’s fine,” I say. I’m seated at the head of a polished wooden table, housed in a room-sized red and gold tent. Ametha sits to my left, and a servant stands to my right. A few weeks ago, I’d have been elated to have been treated like a noble lady. Now, it all feels empty.
“Jade, what’s the matter?” Ametha reaches out to touch my shoulder, but she stops at my sharp look. The rahlite fire is still burning. I’m connected to her, to the servant and to the two soldiers at the door, whether I want to be or not.
After my encounter with Reger today, the title of Mephian no longer earns my trust. Who knows how Ametha will react learning about my feelings towards a Versillian captain. I’ve shared my name and nothing more. For once in my life, I’m not at a disadvantage. I don’t have to answer her. I stand to leave before that changes.
Ametha stands too. “Wait. You must stay.”
I look her up and down. She’s in the way, and there are two more soldiers guarding the entrance. Her eyes share the same black shadow mine do.
“Are you going to stop me?” I ask.
Ametha steps aside. “The Six will not stand in the way of a fellow mage.”
I walk past her.
“We may not be able to help with your grief, but across the entire world, this is the only place you’ll ever belong.”
I stop short of the tent entrance.
“There are only seven mages across Mephia,” she says. “You are one, I am one, and the other five are all within my circle.”
I let go of the tent curtain. How would my life have turned out if they’d found me before the Versillians? Perhaps not every military hierarchy is as hostile as I’ve become accustomed to.
“When the fire dies, will my connection return to the way it was before?” I ask.
“It should.”
Then I’ll be vulnerable again. “Send the guards away.”
“They’re here for our protection,” she says.
“I’d feel safer without them.”
Refusing will only end in my departure. Ametha comes to the same conclusion. She raises her voice – “Daniel, David, find a new post!”
“Right away, Grand Mage,” they answer and walk off.
“Have a seat.” Ametha gestures to my chair.
I reach for it, but a brief pain in my shoulder makes me wince.
“My magic offers relief from pain of the body – if you’d allow it.”
I take my seat. “I’m fine.” I don’t trust her enough to embrace her connection. “Don’t your soldiers need your magic?”
“They receive it as we speak. The hospital tent is to your left.”
She’s been using her connection throughout our conversation. With her decades of trained practice, I should be mindful of the difference between our capabilities.
The male sorcerer steps into the tent. His breathing is heavy, sweat cresting his forehead. His eyes find my frame.
“Is it finished?” Ametha asks him.
He smiles. “They have routed.”
“Our casualties?” Ametha doesn’t share his smile.
“Fifty, a hundred – maybe.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, for the Versillians suffered far more.” He reaches in my direction. I lean back on my chair, away from his hand. He takes a handful of sweetcorn from my plate, dropping it in his mouth.
“And the Versillian king?”
“They breached Nepolis. Lord Reger is missing, but his men can’t seem to agree on how it happened, nor could we locate the Versillian king.”
In the end, Trevus’s rescue plan succeeded. King Tytius lives. They must be side by side now, maybe discussing the girl who took their loved one.
The sorcerer swipes his curly black hair from his face, displaced from the battle. “I’m keen to meet you.” He smiles. “I’m Grand Mage Marco, the Third of Six.”
“Jade of-” I cut myself off. In Versillia, I was Jade of Mephia, but Mephia is an entire country. Everyone here would say they’re of their birth town, but to me, the place where I grew up was always just ‘the village’. I never heard its specific name – which only struck as odd after I’d left.
A man who must be Marco’s identical twin steps into the tent. “Hello peasants. I’m the Grand Mage Marco, the Third of Six.”
A second Marco? The first Marco is wearing a gadin that matches mine and Ametha’s, but the second one is clad in an ordinary gray robe.
“How amusing, Evelyn,” the first Marco says. His arms are crossed. I’ve never seen twins look so similar before. I can’t spot a difference between them. It’s unnatural.
I blink, and the second Marco disappears. A woman is standing in his place with a pendant in her hand. My grip on the table tightens. That man morphed into a woman in front of my eyes.
“How did you…” my voice trails off, unsure exactly what to ask.
The ginger-haired woman leans forward to examine me, her hands planted on the table. “I’m Evelyn the Fourth. Nice to meet you Jade of…” she trails off, expecting me to finish.
“You were a man just…”
“I usually don’t brandish my magic so openly, but since you’re our Seventh, I made an exception.”
Marco scoffs.
I can’t help but stare. Could she transform again at any second?
A woman’s voice whispers in my ear – “Ameh ameir oreshral.” A shiver runs down my spine. I twist around, finding no one but the male servant waiting at the corner of the tent. The others haven’t moved. What was that?
“The men share a remarkable story,” Evelyn begins, “The seventh mage emerged from the Versillian line, splitting it before her. It must have been quite the sight.” She straightens up. “While there were rumors of the Seventh, no one laid eyes on her until today. Where have you been all this time?”
“Around,” I say.
She smiles. “You hold secrets.”
“I don’t even know what you really look like.” If she was able to take Marco’s image, she could be wearing another one right now.
I glance left and right again – there’s someone else here, a sixth presence I can feel but not see.
Evelyn smiles. “Even if I could convince you that this is my true self, does it really matter?”
I suppose not, but I don’t want to advertise my history with Versillia to the Mephian Council of Six.
My connection to all of them snaps. The fire is out. Ametha glances at Marco, and he gives a small nod. They’ve all noticed. The ajar curtain reveals that the once orange sky is midnight black. I’m vulnerable again.
I glance at the servant behind me. No one in the tent has moved to pounce. It appears Ametha was telling the truth.
The black shadows around their eyes have disappeared, leaving only their red face paint. I touch the same spot under my own eyes. The shock on Trevus’s face when he saw them is hard to forget – his reaction to the sight of a monster.
I lean forward to view my reflection on the now empty silver plate.
“Lady, allow me to bring a new dish.” The servant takes the plate.
“Wait.” I catch his hand. The man collapses to the floor.
I leap off my chair with a gasp. I didn’t mean to connect with him. It happened immediately without my will. My hands cover my mouth. He’s lying in the dirt, still as stone.
Ametha heads over to him and takes his hand.
“He’s fine,” she says. “Only asleep.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, and Ametha rests his head on a cushion.
Both Marco and Evelyn are staring at me.
“It was an accident. I had no intention of connecting with him.” Saying those words out loud brings Mehlia’s death front of mind. I completely lost control of my connection again, and I don’t understand why.
I open my hands before Ametha. “What happened to me?”
“Was this your first exposure to burning rahlite?” she asks.
“Should I be worried if it was?”
“We practice with small doses before drawing from a source that dense. Maybe it’s your inexperience.”
Inexperience? “Will it happen again?”
Ametha looks at the others. None of them have an answer. I twist my hands around. They don’t look any different.
“What if it keeps happening?” I ask.
“Usually, one would train for a decade before drawing from such a dense rahlite burn,” Ametha says, “but I’m sure you could achieve the same result through training after this exposure.”
“A decade?” Isolated from human touch for a decade? The image of living alone again makes my stomach twist. I don’t want to be kept at a distance from people anymore. I want to be able to embrace others again. I want to embrace Trevus again.
“Gloves are an option,” Evelyn says.
Gloves – so I’d have my hands covered, like when I was a prisoner. Just the thought of wrapping my hands again makes me uncomfortable. I still won’t be able to feel the warmth of another person on my fingers. My own hands are a barrier. My connection is truly a curse.
“There’s always julite,” Evelyn says.
“What?” I ask.
“Absolutely not,” Ametha says.
“It could work to our advantage,” Evelyn says.
“More likely it would mean the Versillian capture of the Seventh,” Ametha says.
“What’s julite?” I ask. “Tell me.”
“It’s-”
“No,” Ametha cuts Evelyn off. “I forbid speaking of it again.”
“A decade of this is unthinkable. If there’s another solution, I want to hear it,” I say.
“I’m sorry, Jade. There is no shortcut to years of practice,” Ametha says. “Come, let me show you to your tent.” She offers a hand on instinct before quickly retracting it. I can’t bear another ten years of this.
Author’s Note:
Trevus will return to the story very soon.
Awww
I’m assuming it’s another gem or stone. In which case, yes. You don’t capitalize gems or stones unless you are starting a sentence with them.
yo let’s go
Why would it mean she’d be captured?
raphite is lower case?
So the exposure to Rahlite took away her ability to choose to use her power or not
Though it’s good she’s still got enough control over to know how to kill vs knock out
What exactly are they after
A lower case j? is that intentional
It’s sad that in this case they mean well but cause of her trauma she associates it with abuse.
Though you can embrace someone without having to touch them with your hands…
Your not going to share the fact the Versillians held you captive?
good
😢
😢
Hopefully they’ll reunite happily🥺
That’s so fuckin sad🥺
🥺
Who doesn’t have secrets
With his dirty motherfuckin hands🤢
😔
I understand her feelings, but 10 years of training could prevent another deadly accident again
She holds childhood trauma!
all this death and injury dosen’t affect her lol girly
it’s quite a discussion I’d expect lol
small spelling error, but all good!
She do be speaking sense