“No, I don’t,” I finally admit as curiosity gets the best of me.
“Raw means that you possess all facets of your element. You control your lightning not only from the sky but from your body as well. Heat, light, current … they are all components of the ability and are yours to utilize. Most only have one, like heat or smoke from a fire elemental, the ability to summon or evaporate water. Rawness is rare and a cherished trait within our clan.”
Grayson is an earth elemental but is only able to manipulate dirt and pebbles, sand and mud. Basically if it’s not part of the ground we walk on, then he has no power over it. Stanley is similar, he possesses a single facet – at least, that’s all I’ve seen or felt him use. “Do you know Stanley? His powers are like what you described. Doesn’t that mean he’s from Rovente?”
Her right eye twitches ever so slightly. Had I not been standing directly in front of her I wouldn’t have been able to see it. “I personally do not know anyone named Stanley. Why do you ask?”
Of course, he wouldn’t have given me his real name. Why would he? “He’s just someone I met a while back. His hand heats up and can cause burns. That’s all.” I don’t know her well enough to explain further.
“You were present for the meeting, I would have expected that you put two and two together by now. Just because they have elemental powers does not necessarily make them part of the Rovente clan. I urge you to use caution around people, for not everyone is a friend to you.”
The way she says it makes it sound more like a warning than a threat, but it still makes my own inner alarm bells ring.
She stands, smoothing out the fabric that hangs down below her armor. “Magic isn’t something that you will learn overnight, Violet. I don’t want you thinking that you’re failing or incapable of learning to control the energy within you. More of my personal Hunters arrived yesterday as well as the Reapers. Perhaps you would like to spend some time with them, learn from them. I’m sure Lincoln has been doing the best that he can with teaching you, but spending some time with others may prove helpful. As you already know, Lincoln is a hybrid. Both he and his brothers have done an excellent job in learning their raw abilities on their own without the assistance of Rovente but they still have much to learn about what they are truly capable of. I’m confident that he is a good trainer, but it’s good to have variety. To learn other techniques.”
I eye her, trying to figure out what this little speech is really about. “Is this your subtle way of claiming me for your clan?”
“Strega is a place of habits,” she says. “Those with elemental powers remain in the Rovente settlement and live out their days with their born clan. That’s how it’s always been and there has never been a reason to change. Considering what is occurring in the realm, I will be remaining here for the foreseeable future. There really is no rush to see you back to Rovente right now, unless that is what you wish. During our stay here, I hope that you will take the opportunity to learn from your fellow clan mates and not only from Lincoln.”
Riley told me that I didn’t belong here in Pensatore. Was that her not so subtle way of telling me to get the hell out and go back to where I belong?
“Considering your power, Violet, Maddox and I have decided that you will be fighting with us against Aetheries.”
My jaw drops. “Joining you in Aetheries? As in the war? What? No. No. I’m not –”
“I won’t intrude on your training any longer, I just wanted to put the offer on the table.” Ending the conversation, she stands and starts to walk away. “The Reapers are the most powerful people in my clan, both in magic and in overall skill. They will be putting on a duel for Pensatore. I think you’ll enjoy it. I hope to see you there.”
Seraphina simply nods when I fail to reply, turns and heads out of the training fields. Perhaps she didn’t come here to train after all.
I stand as still as a statue still stunned by what she said. How dare they decide that I will be one of their soldiers! No one else is drafted! According to Damon, no one gets drafted in this settlement. Ever. Except for me. That’s what I get for trying to learn. I should have half assed it all this time. I should have purged like I wanted to those first few days so Emmy and I could go back to Florida. I can’t fight in a war. I can’t fight in a magical war!
Someone walks up behind me and from the pace of the footsteps, I know it’s Lincoln. Spinning around I smash my fist into his shoulder. He budges slightly, but only slightly. I quelch a shrill cry as pain flutters up from my knuckles to my wrist and up my arm.
“We really need to work on your fighting skills, Violet.”
I smack him with my left hand. “No. No more training! I’m done. DONE. This is all your fault, you asshole. Was it your idea? Was it?”
His brows furrow. “What are you talking about?”
Pacing back and forth, I start to wear a path in the dirt. “You told them that I was getting better, that I was learning to control my power. It was you. I know it was.” I stop long enough to jab a finger into his chest. “Well guess what. Now I have to go to Aetheries. Me. Me at war. This is all your damn fault!”
He reaches out and grabs me by the shoulders when I start pacing again. “What are you talking about? What did she say to you?”
I inhale deeply, trying to calm my anger. “She told me that I am going to Aetheries, that I will be valuable in the war effort because I have few weaknesses.”
“You’re not ready for that.”
“No shit!” I poke him again. “You will get me out of this. Do you understand me? Get me out of it!”
Releasing his hold, his fingers run through his hair. “I’ll try but –”
“No. There are NO buts. Fix it.”
He smiles like he finds my freak-out funny. “What else did she want?”
“She subtly told me that I need to be in Rovente. Riley said the same thing.”
“Riley? When did Riley talk to you?”
I find another rock to push around with the toe of my boot. “Uh. Well, she’s the one that took us to the house after we got here. She sort of invited herself into my room and told me that I belonged with my own people. I didn’t understand it then, but now it’s all too clear.”
“Is that so? She should not have been speaking to you regarding this matter. It’s not her place to do so.”
I throw my hands up in defeat. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what her opinion of me is any more than I care about anyone else’s opinion. The bigger issue is that I’m being sent to war. How about we focus on that?”
He shrugs. “I’ll talk to Maddox. You’re not ready and throwing in an untrained witch isn’t wise. I can probably sway him, but there’s nothing I can do about Seraphina. It’ll be on him to talk her out of it.”
“Seraphina has already made up her mind about you,” Grayson says, walking up to us. His hands are crammed into his pants pockets as though this is just a casual conversation he butted into. “She thinks your presence in this war will help sway the odds fully in our favor.”
“The odds are already in our favor,” Lincoln says through gritted teeth.
“Of course they are. The odds are always in Rovente’s favor. Pensatore was only invited because it gives Aetheries a target that isn’t us.”
Lincoln’s face grows red. His hands curl into fists.
“The Reapers are here. Who are they?” I ask quickly, trying to change the subject before Lincoln explodes on Grayson.
Lincoln’s attention jerks to me. “They are a group of elite elementals. Why are they here? Did she say?”
“No. She only mentioned them. Something about setting up some duels for the settlement’s viewing pleasure.”
“My Queen thought it was a brilliant idea,” Grayson replies. “Seeing as Pensatore and Rovente aren’t exactly friendly and know little of what the other clan is capable of, she thought it best to give a demonstration. That way Pensatore soldiers know who they will be fighting next to.”
“That�
�s not a horrible idea,” I admit to neither of them in particular.
“Are they going to Aetheries with us?” Lincoln asks. His eyes lighten a fraction at the idea.
“That is still undecided. While the army is away, there will still be a clan to protect.”
If the armies of Pensatore and Rovente are going to the Aetheries clan, then who exactly are they needing protection from? I start to ask but Lincoln cuts me off.
“We still have training,” he mumbles.
14
“I have a bruise on my chest thanks to you,” Lincoln says as we walk through the training fields for another glorious day. “You can’t punch for anything, but you do know how to poke someone.”
The air is crisp, almost cool, which is a first since I got to Strega. Grayson is late, and with any luck, he won’t show up at all. It’s just Lincoln and me for the first time in what feels like an eternity. I want to make a crude joke, but I rein myself in before I do it. “A bruise huh?”
He unfastens the metal buckles on his jacket and pulls the material open to reveal his chest to just above his sternum. Lo and behold, there is in fact a small finger sized light green bruise.
I inhale sharply, letting my eyes go wide at the sight. “That must be very, very painful,” I mock. He smiles and butterflies erupt in my stomach. Instead of kissing his chest and making a pathetic and ridiculous attempt at making it feel better, I poke him again.
Before he has a chance to respond, the earth begins to rumble beneath my feet. It catches me by surprise and I shuffle forward, falling directly into Lincoln. He catches me with ease, but, with our height difference, it puts my face directly against his solid and smooth chest. I should pull away. I know I should.
A dust cloud billows up nearby and I basically pry myself away from Lincoln. The rumbling of the ground resolves itself into what I realize is the pounding of what must be hundreds of footsteps. When the dust starts to clear, Ben and an entire army of soldiers marching behind him is revealed.
“What’s this about?” I ask.
“Not sure, but if I have to guess, I’d say they are headed to watch the duels.”
“That’s today?”
“Seems that way.”
“So, is it like Grayson said yesterday? That they are doing it to show our members what they can do? So the soldiers understand?”
He lets out a small, non-humorous laugh. “If anything, it’s a way for them to show off their abilities. That sounds more appropriate for Rovente.”
“So the Reapers are the same as the rest of them?”
Lincoln shrugs. “Don’t know. Never met the Reapers. They are still Rovente though.”
The marching army approaches us and we merge with them, despite not knowing exactly where they are headed. Lincoln’s fingers wrap around my upper arm tightly as he pulls me into his chest, keeping me close so as not to lose me in the crowd of soldiers.
The tip of my nose is only a breath away from a massive man who abruptly stops in front of me. Loud gasps erupt and I rise on my tiptoes trying to see what is causing the commotion. The ground quakes again, this time it’s not from the marching soldiers. I stare at the ground wide-eyed. Much like a wave in the ocean, the dirt and rock lifts as the current somewhere far below my feet makes a ripple that spreads out farther and farther.
I stop breathing as the wave approaches us and sink farther into Lincoln’s chest. His arms wrap around me protectively. Our feet don’t move, but our bodies are lifted higher and higher as we are forced to follow the wave until it passes us. Dust and sand fill the air making it hard to see and breathe. Several people seem to have lost their balance and are laying on the ground, dumbfounded.
Cough after cough overwhelms me as the dust slowly drifts away from us in the wind. “What was that?” I ask him, still slightly awed over whatever just happened. Grayson is an earth elemental, but he has never done anything of that magnitude.
Lincoln grabs my jaw, shifting my head around to redirect my gaze towards –
“Well that’s new,” I say. “That is new, right?” Less than a quarter of a mile away is a building … well, more like a work of art. Standing six or seven stories tall is what appears to be a colosseum made of white marble. Flowers and vines are carved into its walls. Massive pillars straddle the hollow entrances. “That wasn’t there a few minutes ago … right?” I know it wasn’t, but trying to wrap my human mind around a structure of this magnitude being created with magic in just a few minutes is giving me a headache.
When he doesn’t answer, I turn around to find Ben now standing next to Lincoln. Both of them have their arms crossed, their mouths are open as they stare at the arena.
The soldiers around us make their way into the newly created arena and I follow them.
Now closer, Ben analyzes the building, sliding his finger along the marble. “Definitely new. And brilliant. With some practice I might be able to do something like this, Lincoln. Why did we never think of trying this?”
“What kind of earth elemental are you, Ben?” I ask, scooting to the side to let the excited soldiers pass by.
“Raw,” he answers without shifting his gaze off of the marble walls. “All three of us are.”
I just learned the meaning of that world yesterday from Seraphina. He’s powerful, just like I am. Rare is what Seraphina called it. Raw is rare. Yet there are three of us huddled together right now. Just how rare are we?
“The Queen wants you to join her on the balcony. Each of you,” an annoying and familiar voice says from beside me. Grayson was late this morning, clearly knowing that this was planned. Of course, he couldn’t be bothered to go out of his way to tell us.
“Where have you been?” I ask. Not that I care. Even a few minutes without him has been pure and utter bliss. The man talks. A lot.
“I’m a hunter. My Queen requested my presence, I obeyed. It’s this way.” Grayson holds out his arm indicating which direction to go.
The three of us follow him up several flights of stairs before reaching the balcony. Seraphina sits in an oversized green armchair in the middle of the open room. She’s wearing the same perfect armor she had on yesterday.
The Queen of Rovente strikes me as the type of ruler who sits on her white horse a mile away from a battle, watching as her people get slaughtered one by one. In the movies, the soldiers never seemed worried about such a leader not wanting to fight beside them, to die beside them. It’s bullshit in my opinion.
From this vantage point, we have an unobstructed view of the sandy arena floor. The thousands of marble seats circling the arena are filled with Pensatore soldiers. Being about three stories up, I can still make out the faces of the two people making their way onto the sandy floor. One witch and one warlock, both wearing the signature brown leathers of Rovente.
“Are these the famous Reapers, Seraphina?” Maddox? I twist around. Buried in the dark corner of the balcony, the Lord of Pensatore sits quietly. The few strands of hair atop his head sway in the slight breeze. Seraphina is all glitz and glam as though she wants every set of eyes on her and seeing her royal status. Maddox is the opposite. The rulers of the two clans couldn’t be more different from one another. The clans they reign over couldn’t be either.
“See for yourself, Maddox,” Seraphina says with a smirk as she walks up next to me. Placing her perfectly manicured hands onto the marble ledge of the railing, the Queen starts the show.
“Welcome, Pensatore!” Seraphina’s voice booms across the colosseum. “The Reapers have gifted you with this arena and I hope you enjoy it for many years to come! Today we are here to provide you with a demonstration of elemental ability! One that you will not soon forget!”
Loud applause breaks out, the clapping intensifying as it reverberates off the walls. “Our first competitor is Travis, blessed from Strega as a raw air elemental. He’s been training with the Rovente Reapers for the past eight years. At a young thirty-two years of age, he’s earned his position with his unparalleled teamwork and
ability!” The man standing in the center of the arena floor raises his arms, savoring his applause. Dark trimmed brows frame his round eyes. Tattoos peak out from the neckline of his shirt, creeping up along his square jawline. His shaggy black hair is in full disarray, making it seem like he’s just rolled out of bed.
“His opponent is none other than Brynn, a witch blessed with raw fire magic! She’s one of the original ten Reapers, having volunteered for the position nearly thirty-five years ago. As the most experienced of them all, she’ll undoubtedly show her true colors to her opponent. This will be quite a spectacle for everyone!” The woman looks every bit her age. Her dark brown hair is starting to turn gray. She has deep wrinkles near her eyes but her body looks as toned and muscular as her opponent’s. The witch walks several paces away from the warlock, refusing to put on a show for the audience. The crowd cheers for her anyway.
Enemy Of My Enemy (Price Of Power Book 1) Page 16