The Mage’s Revenge (Crescent Moon Academy Book 2)
Page 32
He may be taunting me and berating me to give up, but he’s just as tired as I, fending off my attacks. Sweat dots his brow thickly, dripping down into his silver eyes, his breathing ragged, his hits just as sporadically made. We’ve both thrown the gauntlet down and here we are, defending it with our very last. What a last fight. This is definitely a duel to see.
“Give up this fruitless effort,” he converses again. “If not for yourself, then your mate. How long do you expect him to last? He’s already at his limit.”
“You knew,” I gasp, done hiding it.
“Of course I knew. I have the power to copy other’s magic. So, of course I can tell when I’m attacked by powers that aren't your own. It may be your magic, but it’s his essence that fuels it.”
I can’t stop. Not now. Not when we’re so close. Hold on, Zion, I plead in my head. My desperate plea opens something buried deep inside. A power locked away never to be set free, until now. I cry out as my veins burn like volcanic flames are racing through. The essence of magic gathers around me, and I can clearly see all the lines and magical pathways connecting to his body. My head spins as some unknown, yet dangerous power inflates me, giving back the energy I lost. Blueish-purple smoke seeps out my pours like steam. Gripped tightly in my hand is my staff and the eyes on the skulls on top glow with that same power. So dark. So wicked. I feel like my whole body is lit up in techno style lights, but darkness swirls around my heart, each beat resounding like the flap of the wings of a powerful bird.
Like an explosion, power bursts out of me in one condensed strike, and I scream as it leaves my body, but the cry isn’t human at all, but the earth shattering screech of an ancient bird. Like a thick fog, the blueish-purple smoke surrounds us, hindering both our vision. With that much power, there’s no way he can still be alive. One second, two, three goes by and still nothing moves or attacks. The crowd is so quiet, I can only hear the pounding of my own heart against my chest and my rapid breathing from exhaustion. I’m a spent arrow. Leaning heavily on my staff is the only reason I’m standing at all.
Finally, the smoke fades away and the path in front of me is clear, but what I see is something I wish I didn’t. A horror that even I couldn’t imagine. Images from the first time we met until now fills my head like a train wreck from the past. He brought on feelings of uneasiness, but also there were times when the feelings Ruelle inflicted were so familiar. How I knew he was dangerous, but a fraying thought whispered he’d never be dangerous to me. Why my familiar never attacked him because Mr. Meow didn’t want to deliver the first blow. Not if he didn’t have to. Just like me, he could never hurt him unless pushed.
“Quinn,” I whisper. The name on my lips sounding more like a plea.
The face may be different. The body may be different. Even the powers aren’t his own, but gripped tightly in his hands, blocking the worst of the attack and what kept him alive is Quinn’s staff. No matter what his powers are. No matter what magic he copies, he could never call on Quinn’s staff and use it unless it belonged to him. His words are so much clearer now. All those taunts while we fought. Do I see now? Yes, Quinn, I do and you’re right. I am stupid. A stupid, stupid little girl who never properly understood the rules to this war. Morganstein stole his soul away. Of course, he could steal someone else’s and put Quinn’s soul into their body like I did with Oberon. I said Morganstein would keep Quinn’s soul close, and I was right. But to taunt me so cruelly. This may be Quinn’s soul, but somehow, it’s fractured. No, not fractured but not alone. This is Quinn and Ruelle. Two souls, one body.
“Do you understand now?” he asks again and I nod slowly, almost in a trance.
“Good.”
He attacks, the staff letting out a burst of power, shattering me. A bird, dark as night and bigger than an eagle, detaches itself from my soul and flies out of my body with a loud squawk and places itself between us. With a backwards flap of its powerful wings, it takes most of the hit, absorbing his power. But there’s still a backlash, and it sweeps me off my feet, and I land hard on the blood coated sand.
Unsteadily I get to my feet, wavering back and forth like a teeter totter. Wincing from the pain, I cough up blood. Like a magnet accepting the call of another, my gaze lands on Zion up in the stands the same time he spews red from his mouth. Immediately the heirs block him from view. Not that it was necessary since all others eyes are glued to this fight. The dark phoenix has made an appearance, a sight that hasn’t been seen since the era of the Mage King. But I care about none of that. All I care about is my brother in front of me. This poor lost soul that I love and trust more than anything in this world, and he just did the unthinkable and tried to kill me. Unlike before, this wasn’t Morganstein controlling him, but his own doing.
Dropping to my knees in pure agony, I let out a wail. One of mournful regret. Responding to its master, the phoenix flies back to me, circles me, flapping its powerful wings. Sand flies in a whirlpool around our bodies, building a raging storm. I’m working on dregs, both Zion and I beyond spent, that dark power inside me, the only thing that can control the ancient bird in the arena bubbles up in me and explodes like a nuclear bomb. All I see is flames. A fire so hot and raging that nothing could survive. But these flames aren’t the usual red flames bred for destruction, but black. Black flames responding to the dark phoenix call.
I hear screams around me, but I don’t care. Like a candle blown, or maybe it’s better to say the strings clipped from the marionette, I drop forward, too exhausted to rise again. Motionless, I lay on the ground as the fire I created consumes everything. I thought I’d be here forever, die here even, but soon, a strong pair of arms lifts me up and carries me away. Only one person is crazy enough to bet his life to come save me. So sure of himself that my flames wouldn’t burn him. Breathing in his familiar campfire scent, I allow the rocking motion of his arms to lull me to sleep.
I’m always breaking the rules. I’m addicted to trouble, but I should have known… I should have known with the appearance of the dark phoenix some sort of balance would have been disrupted, and even though, for now, I’m safe in my mate’s arms, the Mage War halts for no one.
Note From The Author
I’m such a huge anime fan so I really enjoyed writing this story. The idea burst in my head like a rocket and took hostage of my body until I completed the first book and now the second is done. I’m hoping to finish this project within three books, but it may stray to four. I hope you enjoy Angelica’s story as much as I do and hopefully, if you aren’t already, I’ll make an anime fan out of you.
I already noted my inspiration from this story. It’s all thanks to The Fate Series created by Studio Deen. Also some of the lyrics from Besomorpy’s Monster, originally written by Bessam Witwit was used.
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From Cupid
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The Mage’s War
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The Mage’s Revenge
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The Mage’s Truth-Coming Soon
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Stolen Hood
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Knights of Sin
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About CY Jones
CY Jones is a retired Army Veteran who lives in the suburb of South Carolina with her three children and two German Shepherds, Skittles and Raiden. In her spare time, she likes to dream about supernaturals and the stories the voices in her head telling her to write. When she’s not writing, she’s busy chasing after her children, her dreams, and the stars.