Playing With Fire (Power of Four Book 2)

by SF Mazhar

  “I will,” Aaron said. “But first, tell me the truth. What happened? Why did the Blade drain me?”

  “Because you’re not ready.”

  The voice came from the other side of the room. Aaron turned to see Neriah, looking weary and tired. He walked into the room and Armana quickly got to her feet.

  “I’ll come and check on you later,” she said to Aaron. “Please, lie down and let your body heal.”

  She left, passing Neriah, who came to stand at the foot of Aaron’s bed. Aaron didn’t do as Armana asked. He stubbornly stayed sitting, fighting with the last morsel of strength he had to stay upright.

  “What do you mean, I’m not ready?” he asked.

  Neriah walked to the seat Armana had vacated and sat down. He rubbed a hand over his face before letting out a sigh. “It’s not very common,” he started, “but it’s also not unheard of for the Blade to reject its holder.”

  Aaron locked his arms at his sides to keep himself sitting. “That’s what that was? Rejection?” he asked. He closed his eyes and sighed. “No wonder it was so painful.”

  Neriah didn’t smile.

  “So what now?” Aaron asked, looking at Neriah. “How do I get the sword to accept me? What do I have to do to be deemed ready?”

  Neriah didn’t speak right away. “Aaron,” he said in a quiet voice. “If a legacy holder isn’t ready, it’s because their legacy isn’t awake yet. That’s why the Blade rejects them, because it can’t connect to the legacy, so it drains them like it would any other mage who tries to wield it. Legacies are supposed to awaken with the core, but sometimes they don’t until the core matures.” He held Aaron’s eyes. “Your core matures when you come of age.”

  The impact of his words hit Aaron like a physical kick to the gut. “When I’m of age?” he asked. “You mean, I can’t use the Blade until I’m eighteen?”

  “Nineteen,” Neriah corrected quietly.

  Aaron stared at him. “Will there be a war left to fight in five years?”

  Neriah smiled, but it was a sad, heartbroken one. “God, I hope not,” he breathed. He sat back in the chair with his shoulders dropped. “I’ve been fighting this war for far too long. But now that Hadrian’s powers are unlocked, the battle will truly start.” He held Aaron’s eyes. “And I don’t expect it to last very long.”

  Aaron swung his legs over the side of the bed, but his body refused to be pushed to the point of standing.

  “You’re giving up?” he asked, fear and anger pumping inside him.

  Neriah laughed, a deep rumbling sound that filled the room. He tilted his head to the side and gave Aaron a long look. “I’d sooner face death than give up, Aaron.”

  “So why are you saying we’re gonna lose?” Aaron asked.

  “I didn’t say that,” Neriah objected.

  “It’s what you’re implying,” Aaron said. His body ached but Aaron shoved that pain aside. He was too angry to care about it. “There must be a way to awaken my legacy now so I can use the Blade,” he said.

  “There may be,” Neriah replied. “But now isn’t the time to discuss that. For now, I think it’s best for you to return to Marwa with your parents.”

  Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wait a minute,” he said, his chest heaving with the effort it took to breathe. “You’re the one who came to my house,” he said. “You came to get me. I fought with my parents, finally got them to agree to let me take part, and now you’re telling me to go back home?”

  “Without the Blade of Aric, there isn’t much you can bring to the fight,” Neriah said. “I can’t send you into the battlefield with a few months of Hunter training. You won’t last an hour.”

  “I’m still an Elemental,” Aaron argued. “You can train me to fight.”

  “There’s no time,” Neriah said with a heavy heart. “Without the Blade–”

  “To hell with the Blade!” Aaron snapped and his whole body shook with pain and anger. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not a toy, Neriah! You can’t just use me when you see fit and then throw me in a corner when–”

  A spasm of pain seized him, cutting him off. Aaron’s hand shot to his chest and he doubled over, gasping for breath. It felt like a hand had closed around his heart and twisted it.

  Neriah was at his side, strong and firm hands gently guided him to lie back. “You should rest,” Neriah said. “It’s the only way you’ll heal.”

  Aaron grabbed hold of his hand before he could pull away. “Blade or not,” Aaron panted. “I’m still fighting.”

  Neriah smiled and gently pulled his hand out of Aaron’s. “Sleep,” he said. “Your family and friends are waiting to see you, but the Empaths won’t let them in until you’re better.”

  “You came in,” Aaron wheezed.

  Neriah smiled. “Not many can refuse me.” He patted Aaron on the head and walked away.

  Before Neriah could even step outside, exhaustion pulled Aaron into a peaceful slumber.

  ***

  “Please, Armana.”

  “No, Aaron, absolutely not.”

  “I’ll go mad if I have to stay here any longer.”

  “You’ve been here a day.”

  “I’m fine now,” Aaron insisted. “I’m sitting up in bed and everything.”

  Armana’s pale blue eyes widened. “You’re doing what? Lie back down, right now!”

  Aaron sighed. “Honestly, I feel much better. My headache is almost all gone and I don’t feel as drained.”

  “I can tell from your voice that you’re still fatigued,” Armana said.

  “I need to get out of here,” Aaron argued. “You won’t even let my friends in to sit with me.”

  Armana perched on the edge of the bed, staring past Aaron’s head. “I let Sam and Rose sit with you for half an hour yesterday. That’s more than what the other Empaths would allow.” She smiled kindly. “Besides, tomorrow is the day of the full moon. I want you to stay here until it passes.”

  Aaron let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to stay here, Armana,” he said honestly. “I need a distraction, something – anything – that will take my mind off the Blade.”

  Armana reached out, searching for Aaron’s hand. She held it tightly. “I know you’re upset about the rejection, but you just have to be patient.”

  “You sound like my dad,” Aaron said. “He keeps telling me the same thing.”

  “You should listen to us, then,” Armana said with a smile.

  “There’s no time to be patient,” he said. “I have the legacy but if it doesn’t awaken until I’m nineteen, then there’s nothing I can do to help in this war. It’s just down to Neriah and Skyler.”

  Armana’s expression changed at the mention of the Air Elemental but she didn’t say anything. She took a moment before tightening her grip on Aaron’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know you want to help, Aaron, but you’re just learning how to control your powers. It’s not safe for you to fight in this war.”

  “I know,” Aaron said. “Which is why having a Blade of Aric in my hand would have greatly tilted the odds in my favour.” He let out a pent up breath. “There must be something I can do. There has to be some way, someone that can help me awaken my legacy. Neriah said now wasn’t the time to discuss it, but that means he knows something that can help me.”

  Armana pulled back her hand.

  “You shouldn’t force these matters,” she said in a quiet voice. “Sometimes it’s best to let things happen by themselves. Your legacy will awaken when it’s ready.”

  “Yeah, when I’m nineteen,” Aaron grouched. “Not much point then.”

  “Looking for shortcuts sometimes leads to more trouble,” Armana said.

  Aaron frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Armana took a moment to answer. “Decades ago, the Elementals of that time discovered a presence. It wasn’t demonic, but it didn’t come from the mages either. They called it the Influence.”

  Aaron frowned. “The Influence?”

/>   “It was a different force, very powerful,” Armana said. “The Elementals thought they could work with it, use the Influence to their benefit.” She closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh. “From the very beginning, mages were able to heal themselves from most injuries. It took time and a lot of rest…” She stressed the word, but Aaron stubbornly remained sitting. “…but generally we recovered on our own. As the demonic forces we fought got stronger, the mages often found themselves needing days to recover from injuries. When we came across Lycans and vampires, mages couldn’t fight the poison from their bites, and would die. The Elementals used the Influence to help, to give them the ability to heal faster, to heal better.” Armana paused for a moment, gathering herself. “The Influence gave them what they asked for: Empaths – mages born with the ability to heal others with a simple touch.” She held up a hand. “But what the mages didn’t know was that the Influence gave the gift of healing in return for something equally precious.” Her hand moved to her eyes.

  Aaron’s breath caught in his chest. The Influence was the reason Empaths were born blind.

  “They took our sight,” Armana continued. “They didn’t say that was the price. They simply gave one ability, and took away another.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “After that, the Elementals prohibited the use of the Influence. No matter what the reason, how desperate the need, no one is allowed to use the Influence.”

  “Has anyone tried since?” Aaron asked.

  Armana shook her head. “There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the Influence will give you what you desire, but it will cost you more than you are willing to give.” She stood up. “Take my advice, Aaron, let things be with your legacy. When it’s ready, it will awaken itself.”

  ***

  It was the day after the draining full moon, that Armana gave in to Aaron’s pleading. She let him out with strict instructions to sleep and rest. Aaron couldn’t do either.

  Jason Burns had arranged their stay in a cleaner, warmer and more inviting sanctuary cottage. Ever since Rose’s outburst months before, Jason and a team of mages had worked tirelessly to renovate the green-doored cottages so they were more comfortable to the refugees who came seeking shelter.

  Aaron, Sam and Rose took one room, Kate and Chris took another. Aaron waited until all of them fell asleep before slipping outside. He walked along the row of cottages, pausing briefly before the blue-doored cottage that had been his home for the four months he had spent in Salvador. It had been renovated, along with the rest of the buildings, after Kyran had set fire to them in a bid to escape.

  Aaron walked down to his favourite spot in Salvador – the bank of the lake. The air was cool and refreshing. It whipped through his hair and ruffled his clothes. Aaron closed his eyes and relished the feeling of being out in the open. He remained like that until the sound of footsteps disturbed him.

  For a fleeting, heart-jerking moment, Aaron thought it was Kyran. He had always found him sitting at this very spot. But even before Aaron opened his eyes and turned, he could tell it wasn’t Kyran. The steps were distinctly different. The glow of the floating lanterns revealed the smirking form of Skyler, making his way over to Aaron, beer bottles in hand. Aaron swore under his breath and looked away, feeling all the tension that had seeped out return to hit him like a tidal wave. He clenched both hands into fists.

  “I’m not in the mood to hear any of your crap, Skyler,” he said. “Just go away.”

  The footsteps stopped next to him. Skyler sat down, settling the bottles before him.

  “Seriously.” Aaron turned to glare at him. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  Skyler grinned and uncapped one bottle. He turned to Aaron and held it out.

  Aaron blinked at the offer.

  “You look like you need it,” Skyler said by way of an explanation.

  Aaron didn’t take it. He didn’t put it past Skyler to spike his drink with something awful, even though he saw him open the bottle in front of him.

  “Don’t worry, it’s the tame stuff,” Skyler said.

  Aaron still didn’t move to take it.

  Skyler placed the bottle next to Aaron and uncapped his own, bringing it to his mouth to take a large gulp.

  They sat in silence. The only sound was the wind whistling through the trees. After a few minutes, Aaron couldn’t take it.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “What do you want?”

  Skyler took a long drag from his bottle, blue eyes staring ahead. “I really thought you would do it,” he said quietly. “When you reached out to take hold of the Blade, I thought you were going to rip that beauty right out of the ground.” He shook his head. “But no. You got rejected.”

  Aaron’s jaw clenched. “You know what, Skyler–”

  “Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?” Skyler interrupted. He turned his head to meet Aaron’s furious eyes. “Feels like your insides are being torn out, like life itself is being sucked right out from your body and you can’t do a thing to stop it.”

  Aaron’s eyes widened. He gaped at Skyler, who seemed younger without his cold, cruel smirk present. The usual ice blue eyes were warmer, staring at Aaron with a quiet intensity. Then Skyler took another mouthful of his beer and looked away.

  “I was about your age when I tried my family’s Blade for the first time,” Skyler said. His gaze was on the calm, dark water of the lake. “I was so sure I was ready. Neriah tried stopping me, told me I should wait, but I knew the legacy usually awakened the same time as the core. My core had been awake for a year, that was long enough.” He shook his head, smiling sardonically. “I was knocked out for an entire day.” He gestured with his bottle at Aaron. “Be thankful you woke up after a few hours.”

  Aaron was choked with surprise. He didn’t know what to say. Skyler. Skyler Avira. The boy that walked around with so much pride it was a miracle his feet touched the ground. That Skyler Avira was rejected by his family’s Blade.

  Aaron opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the right words. He shook his head. “Why?” he asked at last. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Skyler looked at him and smiled before shrugging. “Misery loves company, right?” He looked down at the ground. “I’ve never told anyone about the rejection, except Armana. Neriah knows, and Ella, of course. If it wasn’t common for the Blades of Aric to only be used in extreme battles, everyone by now would be suspicious as to why I use a normal sword and not my family’s Blade.” He rubbed the bottle between his fingers. “Every year, on the day I get a step closer to coming of age, I go to the Blade of Avira and try to claim it.” He dropped his head. “I wake up the next day, feeling hollowed out.” He gave Aaron a sideways glance. “You’re the only one I know who’s been through the same thing.”

  “You’ve done this five times?” Aaron asked. He could barely stomach being rejected once. He didn’t think he had it in him to keep trying.

  “I would do it a hundred times,” Skyler replied, “if it meant that eventually, I get to wield one of Aric’s Blades.” His eyes remained fixed on something in the distance, the half empty bottle in his slack grip. “I’m the only Avira,” he said quietly. “The mighty Blade of Avira is destined for me.” He took in a deep breath and crossed his arms over his knees. “In four months my core will mature and with it, my legacy will finally awaken.” He turned his head to look at Aaron. “Problem is, I don’t know if we have four months. Hadrian’s powers are unlocked; his core has fully recovered.” He paused and Aaron saw the way his fingers curled tightly around the bottle. “When he comes, there’s very little that will stand in his way.”

  “Sounds like you’re giving up before the fight’s even started,” Aaron said.

  Skyler snapped his head around to glare at him. “I’m not one to give up,” he said quickly. “I’m not an Adams. I’ll be standing at the front line.”

  “You won’t be the only one,” Aaron said. “I’m fighting too, with or without the Blade.”

  Skyler’s e
yes lit up and Aaron could almost swear there was pride radiating from him. “That’s good to hear,” he said before putting the bottle to his mouth and draining it.

  “We can’t use our family Blades, but Neriah has his, yeah?” Aaron asked.

  Skyler nodded.

  “So there’s one Blade on either side,” Aaron said. “Neriah and...and Kyran, both have their Blades of Aric.”

  Skyler shifted, his jaw tensed at the mention of Kyran. “The Blades won’t fight each other,” he said. “Aric created the four Blades to work together, not against one another.” He let out a breath. “But the damage they can do is phenomenal. I think that’s why Neriah was desperate for you to get your Blade. He knows I can’t wield mine. He thought if you had yours, we would have two against Kyran’s one.”

  “That’s not fair,” Aaron said.

  Skyler raised an eyebrow. “No? You don’t think that’s fair?” He leant in towards Aaron. “Hadrian’s a Fire Elemental. There’s not much that can survive fire.”

  “Yeah, I know, but–”

  “You think Hadrian’s going to play it fair?” Skyler cut across him. “Mages can’t kill vamages because they are part-mage, but vamages can kill us because they are part-demon. You think Hadrian won’t use that to his advantage?”

  “I just meant–”

  “What?” Skyler snapped. “What did you mean, Adams?”

  Aaron stared at him. The moment of vulnerability had passed. The Skyler sitting next to him had gone back to being the same short-tempered bully Aaron knew and despised.

  “Let Hadrian fight the way he wants,” Aaron said. “We should fight with integrity. Two swords against one isn’t fair. If we play dirty too then what’s the difference between vamages and mages?”

  Skyler let out a harsh laugh. “I honestly don’t know whether to get angry at your idiotic ideals or feel sorry for your naivety.” He held Aaron’s gaze. “This is war, Adams. You fight to win, no matter how you do it. Because what we’re fighting for, we can’t afford to lose.”