by Meg Anne
“Hey!” he protested. “Now you’re just being mean. I am not saying I will enjoy watching this play out as it must, but there can be no hesitation, Helena. If he gets put in a situation where he has to choose between saving her or you, how is he supposed to make that decision? As the Shield, the duty to serve his Kiri must come before everything.”
Helena snorted. “As if rules ever stopped anyone from doing anything they knew in their heart to be right. If he loves her, Von, then he will always choose her. Any other vow will be meaningless. I would never fault him for that.”
“That is not what it means to serve.”
“No, that is what it means to be human.”
Von was silent. She was right.
“I would release him from his vows, if he asked me.”
“He will never ask.”
“Then maybe, when this is over, I will find a way to change the rules so he doesn’t have to.”
Von stared at her in stunned silence.
“What?”
Von shook his head. “You continue to amaze me, Mira.”
“It’s the right thing to do. No one should have to deny themselves the chance for love or finding their Mate, just because they also serve. That cannot be what the Mother truly intends for her children.”
“Perhaps not,” Von agreed.
After a moment of silence where they watched the other couple dance, Helena added, “How hard can it be, really? I mean, I am the one in charge after all. Don’t people have to do what I say?”
Von’s laughter caused many curious stares to turn their way. “I love how you remember that whenever it’s convenient, but you forget it when it truly matters.”
Helena shrugged. “As long as everyone else remembers.”
They grew silent again, the sounds of laughter and music swelling around them.
After a few heartbeats she spoke again. “It’s a stupid rule, and stupid rules should be broken if they cannot be changed.”
“As one who has broken every rule ever set in front of him, I must wholeheartedly agree.”
“I knew I could count on you.”
“Always.” He reinforced the promise so that it echoed through their bond.
Chapter Fourteen
It was still early, but Helena was already standing on the beach, the sound of the crashing waves and the echoing caw of gulls her only companions. When she’d awoken that morning, the salty tang of the sea was permeating her room, even though no windows had been open, and she’d felt the need to go down and become familiar with the element she’d be trying to control only a few hours later.
The wind still raged, although the Stormbringer’s keep sheltered her from the worst of it. She hadn’t gone far from the gates, just over to the small beach off of the main entrance. Most were still asleep, so she’d only had to endure a few curious glances, and one barely concealed yawn, as she’d made her way.
At the time, it’d seemed entirely reasonable to introduce herself to the sea but now that she was standing here she felt incredibly foolish. The problem was that she didn’t know exactly what she was trying to do. She’d woken with a nameless need to be outside, and so she’d followed it. Now that she was here, she was at a bit of a loss.
She’d already given up trying to control her hair. Every time she’d tie it back the wind would pull it free so that it’d whip around her. As it was, she could barely keep the cloak she’d brought clasped about her shoulders. Helena removed her boots and walked further out on the soft sand until it became wet beneath her feet. It was chilly, but bearable. She forced herself to take the final two steps until the waves began lapping at her feet. She shivered but did not move away.
Yesterday, when they’d been greeted by the storm, and the man that controlled it, there was a sense of threat in the water and air. Not today. The way that the wind was teasing her felt curious and playful. She could feel none of Anduin in it; this was the Mother’s magic, wild and free.
Closing her eyes, Helena opened herself up to the power surrounding her. She let her magic bubble up and flow out of her. The reaction was subtle but instantaneous. The wind whipped up, and the waves began to crash with increasing frequency. It was a greeting; the elements here recognized her.
In her own way, Helena recognized them as well. Even though she was standing in the Emerald Ocean, she could feel the icy current of the Mother’s Tears. The river nearly bisected Elysia, flowing from Vyruul until it fed the ocean at the southern tip of Daejara. That wasn’t the only reason why she recognized the feel of it though. When they’d traveled through Bael, the Mother’s Tears had been her source of water for nourishment as well as bathing. She’d been immersed in this water once before.
Helena was feeling fanciful. She imagined that the water she’d drank months before had become a part of her, and that even now its residual energy lived within her. She laughed at her silliness and opened her eyes.
Her power was radiating out of her in glowing waves of energy. She was sure no one else who saw her would see what she could see and was glad for it. Helena caused enough of a stir as it was, no need to add to the gossip fodder. She watched as tendrils of the iridescent power swam through the water and spun through the air. Her power was weaving itself into the elements around them. Each individual strand pulsed in time to her heartbeat.
It was breathtaking.
As her magic moved through the elements, she could feel them accept her presence amongst them. The wind continued to play, twisting around her body and making the loose strands of her hair dance in the breeze. Tentatively, Helena used her power to push the wind out and away from her. Not forcefully; it was a tickle not a shove. She could feel the air around her shiver before it assented to her request and flowed away from her. The sea, in response to the air, grew still. Its churning waves died down until the water was placid and calm around her. There was a sense of expectation, as if they were waiting to see what she would do next. She felt for all the world as if she was playing hide and seek with children.
Not wanting to disappoint them, Helena answered the unspoken request. She called the air back to her, using it to form a massive ball. If not for the swirl of her power within it, she would have looked as if she was holding nothing. Pushing the air out toward the water, she added her energy and strength to the ball. Where the ball met the water, it pushed it aside, dividing the ocean and creating a little path for her to walk through. The water was not high here, perhaps only to her knees, but as she walked forward, she could see the ocean straining against the invisible barrier of air she used to reinforce the divide. Helena had the distinct impression the water was trembling with laughter, loving her antics.
With a startled laugh, she stepped back onto the beach and released her hold on the water and air, letting them return to their natural state. They wasted no time coming back to her, it was like a game of chase; they were not ready for her to leave. Helena laughed again, feeling the joy in the elements around her.
Any doubts she still had vanished, disappearing with the wind. Helena knew these elements and they knew her. More than that, they’d already recognized her authority. Whatever she had to ask of them today, they would grant her. They’d just proven it.
She was going to win.
It was only a couple hours later, but the playfulness from the morning was nowhere to be found. Helena stood on the dock she’d arrived at yesterday, although this time she stood alone. Anduin was also standing alone, although he was on a dock some hundred yards away from her. Before each of them, the maelstrom churned, its inky depths howling with fury.
The Circle and those that traveled with her stood beside the Storm Forged on the rocky cliffs a safe distance away. Apparently, it was just as dangerous to be an observer as a participant in Aegaeon’s Challenge given how often a challenger would lose control of their storm.
As if he could feel her looking for him, Von called to her through the bond. “Are you ready, Mira?”
“As ready as I can be.
”
“He is a fool to underestimate you.”
Helena considered his words before responding, “I do not get the impression that he does.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The way he responded to Starshine, and the look in his eyes when we mentioned the prophecy. He wanted to discount it as childish stories, but I sensed the fear in him. I think it is desperation that makes him cling to his beliefs. He is afraid of the alternative.”
“I’m not sure if that makes him smart or foolish.”
Helena’s answering laugh flowed through their bond. “A man can be both wise and foolish, one does not preclude the other. It is hope for peace that makes him want to bury his head in the sand… or should I say sea?”
“Both are sure ways to die,” Von replied, his own amusement in the words.
“I think we just proved my point with our own silliness.”
Growing serious Von said, “Be careful, Mira. Anduin intends to fight to the death, he does not realize you will try and save him. A man that desperate to deny the truth will not go down easily.”
“I know.”
“If you have need of me, I am here.”
His words were a balm. Feeling him through the bond and knowing that he was close even if they were not touching, filled her with a sense of calm. She might be standing by herself, but she was not alone.
One of the Storm Forged’s priests had briefed her on the challenge. He hadn’t told her much more than she’d learned from Joquil the day before, but he’d let her know that the challenge would start once lightning cracked across the sky and would not stop until only one of them was still standing. Shivering, Helena turned her eyes upward, waiting for the sign that the challenge had begun.
She did not have to wait long. The crack of lightning flared bright, illuminating everything around them. As soon as the flash receded, the sky went dark; black clouds rolling in out of nowhere. The sea responded to the shift. The water surged, causing the dock to quake beneath her feet. Anduin she realized. He’d already begun and she was still standing here admiring the sky.
Her hair was flying wildly around her in the wind while icy rain pelted her from every direction, but she ignored it. Blocking out everything but the sea, Helena summoned her power as she had that morning. She distantly felt her body react as she released it but was solely focused on the shimmering tendrils that began to weave themselves into the air and sea.
From her place on the dock she could see down into the center of the maelstrom. She funneled her power toward it, feeling the slightest resistance before the water gave way, allowing her power to become part of the massive spiral. As it did, the glowing threads of her magic swirled down and into the center of the maelstrom. They crackled like electricity as the twisting fury of the water helped it gather strength.
While Helena was focused on the maelstrom and building her storm from its depths, Anduin had moved straight toward his cyclone. What had already been an impressive blend of wind and water was now a towering beast that had flashes of lightning shooting out of it. She could see him only peripherally, but his hands were outstretched above him, moving like he was shaping the spinning mass between them. She knew it was only a matter of time before he sent it straight toward her.
The wind and rain continued to beat at her, and she felt herself rocking like a tree in a storm as she withstood the attack. It was time to pull her own tempest from the maelstrom. She started to raise her arms, willing the water to follow. The maelstrom fought back, the intensity of its current unwilling to surrender to her will. Helena pushed more of her power into the churning water. There was a stutter in the spiraling water, as if her power had struck it like a blow, knocking it off course. It was all the opening she needed.
Helena pulled, her teeth baring down until she tasted blood. A twisting ball of water began to form in the center of the maelstrom, growing in strength and size very quickly. In order to overtake Anduin’s, Helena knew that it would have to be so much more than an ordinary cyclone, so she continued to feed the storm. She used her power to pull more water from the eye of the maelstrom, while pushing the air to keep it spinning. It was only a matter of a few heartbeats before two cyclones spun on the horizon.
Anduin’s storm was a deep pulsing black, the bright flickers of lightning making the water seem to glow the same color as his eyes. Helena’s was a smoky gray, the water spinning so fast that its foam diluted the color of the water until it appeared almost entirely white. In size they were evenly matched, but Anduin’s seemed deadlier as it began to shoot across the water straight toward her.
Helena threw her hand out, and her storm responded, lurching to intercept the attack. Her sparkling eyes flicked to where Anduin stood, and even with the distance between them she could make out the fierce smile on his face. He was enjoying himself.
Helena had to admit, so was she. Her heart was pounding within her, but the way her power merged with the intensity of the storm was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She felt wholly alive. There was raw power here, and an unmatched ferocity in the elements that was now pulsing through her. Under different circumstances, she might even say she was having fun.
That was when the dueling storms collided. Thunder roared, and the dock trembled but did not break. Helena lurched back, her body reeling from the impact. Anduin fared worse. He was thrown backwards, swept off his feet by the force. She was vibrating like the plucked string of an instrument, the tangle of wind, water and power becoming a tangible barrier pushing against her very fragile body. Helena couldn’t remember ever being quite this aware of her mortality before. Even with the full force of her power unleashed, giving her almost limitless strength, her human body was not immune to the power of the elements that surrounded her. If she lost control, they’d tear her apart.
As Anduin pushed to his feet, she watched his eyes blaze white-hot before his tower of black water flung itself into hers. What her cyclone lacked in speed, it more than made up for in strength. It didn’t falter under the repeated blows.
Helena was starting to realize his strategy. He would continue to ram at her storm, and through it her power, weakening both to the point he could blast through and obliterate them. She would not survive the instantaneous loss of control. That kind of attack on her power would be the equivalent of a hammer shattering her mind, thereby severing her body’s connection to her innermost self. It was a brilliant strategy, although utterly merciless.
Her initial reaction was to continue to reinforce the storm, but she wouldn’t be able to keep that up indefinitely. Eventually Anduin would find a way through. Instead, Helena took a cue she’d learned from Anderson many years ago.
When she’d first learned how to ride a horse, Anderson had warned her that she would eventually fall off. In order to protect herself, he’d taught her that when that day came, she would need to become as limp as her rag doll, so that her body would absorb and not fight the impact. He said it could be the difference between whether or not she survived the fall.
Helena was about to test his theory with these storms. Instead of fighting against the attack, she would release a bit of her hold on it, allowing Anduin’s to slip through. Once the storms were fully integrated she would tighten her hold again, trapping his storm within hers. To defeat him, she would then have to use her power to force his into submission. She just hoped he didn’t sense the trap.
She would need to time this perfectly. He could not sense the change in resistance, until it was too late for him to pull back. Taking a deep breath, Helena began to pull small tendrils of power back into herself. By the time Anduin struck again, Helena’s hold on the cyclone was quite loose and his storm blew a hole through hers.
Even from this distance she could hear the startled gasps and fierce cheers from the crowd. Anduin let out his own battle cry, sensing victory was within his grasp.
Helena waited for two long heartbeats, not wanting to move too quickly. Just as Anduin’s storm had th
e power to destroy her, so too could her storm end him. But unlike Anduin, that was not her goal.
She needed to nullify his power. That was going to require her to absorb it completely. She would have to act fast, once he realized he was caged, he would throw everything he had at trying to escape her hold.
Helena took one last breath just as the second half of Anduin’s storm made contact with the far edge of hers. She pumped every bit of power she still had back into the storm, strengthening it to the point that the water nearest to the cyclone began to push away, creating angry waves that moved toward the crowd.
“No!” Anduin screamed, finally realizing what Helena had done, but not ready to give up.
As she predicted, his power lashed out at her. Helena bore down, bearing the attack. Seeing the glowing blue ribbons of Anduin’s power spiraling through the water, Helena pushed her own shining strands toward them, willing the power to merge. Where the threads of power touched, lightning sparked and booms of thunder split the sky. With what felt like a shudder, the strands combined, fusing into one glowing beam. Helena had taken full control of both storms.
Anduin dropped to his knees, defeated.
The violence of the storm threatened to overwhelm her, but Helena pushed the water back down into the sea. At the same time, she used the air to send the rain and clouds out and away from the cyclone so that they would stop feeding the storm. Both elements resisted at first, seeming to relish their dance across the ocean, but eventually, layers of the storm were stripped away, floating out across the sky or sliding back into the sea.
With shaking limbs, Helena began to draw her power back into herself, slowly releasing her hold on the cyclone entirely. When she was done, her cyclone, now much diminished in size, was left lazily spinning beside the maelstrom.
Anduin lifted his head, eyes glowing as he stared at her in awe. Helena shrugged sheepishly, before her knees buckled and she staggered. The euphoria she’d felt controlling the storm left along with her hold on it, and all she felt now was a bone-deep weariness.