Wildest Dreams

by Faith Ellis

  That dream has left chills, raising bumps on my arms. The fire in the room died long ago, and I vigor- ously rub my hands together in an attempt to bring back the warmth. Even though it was just a dream, it creeps me out to see myself in that particular light. Burning courts, even my own people—it is like Mable all over again.

  There is no way I could become that, is there?

  The days go by quickly and routinely, blurring to- gether like shooting stars diving across the night sky in a flash. Malor and I train and train, but nothing seems to pull out that fire inside of me. The frustration eats at me and makes it more difficult to focus. I worry that the males are losing faith in me, that they'll question my ability as their leader, queen, and key to defeating Mable and saving our Folk.

  One beautiful day, Aiden decides to stay instead of go on his usual outing and join us. The sun shines high in the sky, as it does every day in Aiden's realm. As if this place has no idea of the turmoil outside the veil. The stream constantly bubbles happily, and birds gab- ble back and forth. Meanwhile, I stay focused on my footwork and opponent. My hair is plaited down my back, but strands have come loose and now plaster themselves to my face with sweat. Both Malor’s and my tunics are drenched with sweat, proof of our hard work and stamina as they cling to our clammy skin.

  Aiden is on a large rock nearby, sharpening his sword while the blade sings in protest. As he finishes, he quietly assesses us from his perch, his hand draped over one knee grounded on top of the rock. His gaze makes me nervous, and Malor and I both hear an occa- sional sound of approval or grunt, as if he would have done something differently or chosen a different tac- tic. He watches us for a moment longer before stepping up to the training circle and suggesting a fresh opinion. "Instead of this swordplay routine, why not see how you respond to one-on-one combat with us us-

  ing our abilities? Maybe being present around ability of any sort will coerce yours out?"

  Malor inclines his head in approval of Aiden's sug- gestion. "It's worth a shot, Annie." Malor’s sword trills as he returns it to his sheath and motions to Aiden to take over. He wipes the sweat from his brow. Luck- ily, through all the sweat, the scent of wildflowers is stronger. "She's all yours, Prince." Malor backs away, plops down in the lush grass near Aiden’s rock, and ca- sually leans back on his forearms to watch.

  Aiden and I stand in the training circle. The ground is outlined by our crazy footwork where the grass has been torn from the earth and exposes the dirt beneath. I raise my eyebrows, watching Aiden tug on his sleeves as he rolls them up to his elbows. "So, what, you're just going to turn into a horse, and I magically respond?"

  Aiden's patience doesn't falter, but a corner of his mouth quirks, and he cocks his head. "I'm phouka, princess. That's not an ability, it's just part of who I am. But what can I do? What is my connection with our higher being, Mother Nature?"

  I scrunch up my nose in thought. "I don't know. What's the difference? Come to think of it, I have never seen you use your ability, and I don't think we've ever discussed it."

  "That's because I didn't fully settle before I hid you.

  I settled after you were in the mortal realm."

  "Okay." I cross my arms and sigh. "What's settling?

  And what exactly can you do, phouka?" I tease.

  Aiden grins. "Settling is when a fae becomes of age. When they can truly tap into their abilities and dis- cover more about who they are. All fae have a connec- tion with Faery and therefore can offer some sort of elemental manipulation: water, earth, sun, wind, cold, anything. Some can even manipulate emotions. High fae tend to have stronger abilities— aristocrats, royalty, such as you and Queen Mable. Lower fae, such as war- riors or even brownies, may only be able to influ- ence elements or emotions."

  "So settling typically happens around the age one hundred, right?"

  He runs a hand over his hair, smoothing out the ends. "That can depend on the fae, but yes, though some can be earlier or later by a few years."

  Aiden elegantly rotates his wrist at the sky as clouds so dark they are almost black move in to block the golden sun. The wind picks up to an unnatural speed that has me crouching in an effort to maintain my balance and literally not be blown away. The tem- perature in the training circle drops alarmingly low, worse than freezing, and shivers wrack my body. A powerful magic is indeed in the air—the scent of pine, rich and thick, and a light scent of ash surround us.

  My eyes rise; Aiden holds a long spear made of solid ice, sharper than any sword I have ever seen. Amaze- ment and terror strike through me at the same time. I straighten and close my mouth that was gaping in awe. Before I have time to form a thought, Aiden hurls the deadly ice spear toward me, and I yelp, instinctively

  throwing up my hands to block my face. Fear curls like a snake in a corner, ready to strike at the first sense of danger. As the spear soars by, frost bites at my skin, searing it like a hot iron.

  A whoosh soars through the air as Aiden jolts an- other, and my fear turns into a rage that boils deep in- side of me and bubbles up, higher and higher. Warmth spreads throughout my body, hot but not in an uncom- fortable way, simply in a way that tells me it is there. I breathe for a moment, expecting another blow from a spear, another stinging cold against my skin, but noth- ing comes. With hesitance, my eyes open to my hands still out in front of me. The spears are gone, and Aiden wears an odd look on his face, his hands hanging at his sides. Malor quickly flies toward him, curls bouncing, powerful wings beating, and jaw open.

  The clouds have cleared, and the sun shines again.

  Suddenly, anger rises hot in my chest.

  "What the fuck, Aiden?!" My boots stomp through the dirt toward the two of them, neither one moving. "You could have killed me!"

  But what's behind them stops me dead. Between the two males and straight past them, a fire burns a tree in the beautiful forest. "H-How is there a fire?"

  Aiden regards me strangely.

  "Are you fire too? Ice and fire? How can the two sur- vive harmoniously?" I don't understand why he is look- ing at me like that. His eyes calculating. "What?"

  Finally, Aiden shakes his head. "No, darling, I am ice. Fire is an extremely rare ability, one of the most powerful abilities a fae can have."

  I think back to some of my memories: little flickers dancing at my fingertips, the heat in the center of my core. I should have known, should've woven the pieces together.

  My eyebrows draw together as I look to Malor, but he shakes his head and hurls a ball of water at the fire, snuffing it out.

  Flicking my eyes back and forth between the males, I finally look at my hands. "I'm fire? Why?"

  Malor speaks first as he folds his arms over his chest. "I have never actually seen a fae with the fire ability. Heat, yes, but fire? Lucky royals," Malor teases, turning to Aiden for an answer.

  Aiden grabs one of my hands, turning it this way and that, and I raise my eyes to him. "No wonder she's threatened by you, princess." He smiles fully, showcas- ing his white teeth.

  We resume our practice, more fervently than before. My feet feel heavy as cement, keeping me frozen in place. The rapid inhale and expulsion of my breathing fills my ears. Malor's wave crash against me, soaking me from head to toe, and the impact pushes me back, my heels digging into the dirt of our training circle. The heat is hard at work drying my clothes; mean- while, their wetness makes them heavy, turning my moves sluggish and expending my energy. I want to shed them and just throw them off to the side.

  Delving into the well of my core, which houses my fire, I tap around and try to find the familiar warmth. Deep, deep down in the pit of my core, the very depths of my gut. The heat leads me to it, and I draw it up, through my belly and into my veins. It dances in strings of red and gold at my fingers for a moment. The tips of flames sway in an enchanting and hypnotic rhythm before it snuffs out.

  Again.

  Frustration tightens my muscles, and a growl re- leases in my throat.

  Malor chides, "It's your
essence, Annie, your very being, your lifeblood. This doesn't require payment from you, but it does require your patience and sta- mina. This is a part of you as much as your soul is. Re- lax and just let it be. You're trying too hard."

  "I don't understand. What else am I supposed to do? This isn't working!" I scream my agitation into the open air.

  Ever since Aiden's spears and setting the trees ablaze, I haven't been able to bring that fire back in full effect, only in small blazes. Tapping into that center where it rests like a hibernating creature but is newly awakened—there is so much energy, such an ache for release. The fire crawls up from my stomach, shooting through my veins, but it ends as barely a flicker from my fingertips. Another wave surges toward me at an alarming speed, but it disintegrates when Malor hears my snarls of anger and sees the irritation in my frown.

  "Your aggravation is hindering your ability, Annie. This is a born gift; you cannot force it. You need to trust that it will protect you," Malor instructs, as though I am a child.

  I scoff. "Trust something I don't know how to do?

  That I don't fully understand?"

  He glares at me. "A lot of things in life require a little reliance on aspects we cannot fully comprehend. But this ability is your birthright, not just as fae, but as royalty, as ruler of the First Court. Believe in it and in yourself."

  That is much easier said than done, but he isn't wrong. There are a lot of things I will need to have faith in within the coming days. I need to be at the top of that list.

  Closing my eyes, I zone out and focus on the realm around me. A bird sings nearby, forever calling to a lost mate. A sweet melody to complement the breeze that cools the sweat beneath my hair. Setting my feet hip-width apart and slightly bending my knees, I raise my hands, inhale the scent of the grass and the laven- der in the air, and exhale the disbelief in myself that covers my senses. Aiden's presence is like a heavy cloak wrapped around me. It brings me comfort as heat burns brightly in my belly. I take another deep breath and persuade that heat to rise, welcoming it as it fills my chest and my throat, coats my arms, and courses through my veins, turning them a fiery red.

  My ears tune in to Malor readjusting his position. Thick bubbling fills the air as I imagine him calling on

  those waves once again. A release, a whoosh, comes so quickly, I barely have time to think. But faith doesn't always require thought; it simply demands action. As I listen to the wave draw closer, I focus on the warmth, no longer on my fingertips but in my palms, and as I open my eyes, I thrust the warmth out of me with all of my might. Just in time, my fire meets the water head-on. The heat is blinding, but it doesn't injure me. I barely feel more than warmth as it crashes into the wave, exploding it into nonexistence.

  The males cheer and holler like children while I sur- vey my hands. Smooth skin. There are no holes as I inspect my palm; they aren't even hot. Running feet pound across the ground and grow closer.

  Malor swoops me up, spinning me around in a circle in his arms, grinning wildly, curls bouncing. "You did it! That was incredible!"

  We laugh in disbelief, and a strangeness fills my chest as I throw my arms around his neck.

  Is this what power feels like? A tingly sensation thrums through me, just beneath my skin.

  Aiden saunters up to us, a slight smile tugging at his mouth as he watches our embrace. "Excellent work, Your Highness. Now we're getting somewhere." His head bows low in respect.

  Malor and Aiden practice with me every day from the time the sun is up until it begins to set behind the hills. We start small, where Malor throws water balls at me, and my goal is to target them and dissipate them with my flames. Aiden wraps things in ice for me to

  melt with the heat from my hands. Afterward, I barely have the energy to lift a fork to my mouth during din- ner and drag myself upstairs to bed. Then, before I know it, the sun rises, and we do it all over again.

  In combat, we each throw our abilities at one an- other, learning our weaknesses and strengths. Aiden is fast, but my fire can melt anything made of ice. With Malor, if done just right, I can heat his water, instead of eliminating it completely, and make it boiling hot, turning his own ability against him.

  We continue this way for days. Through failures and struggles and small successes, my power grows stronger and becomes easier for me to control while discovering how much larger I can create it, from a burning ember to a blazing wildfire. But the heat in my core quickly burns up my energy, and my body is al- ways starving.

  The power also doesn't come without a price, as is typical with any gift from Nature. Along with an aching belly, it leaves me exhausted, but as we train, I am able to build my strength and endurance. What I once wasn't aware I had is now a part of me that I am al- ways conscious of. When my power meets its limits, I can feel it draining in my center. Every ability has a limit, but as the power gets stronger, that limit and en- durance grow stronger and longer as well.

  For me, right now, I am still growing and manipu- lating my ability. I find my endurance is low, I reach that limit quicker, and I take more time to recover. This worries me and gnaws at me for when it comes time

  to stand against Mable. In an effort to keep that from being the case, I push myself harder, even when I feel that limit has been reached, and more than once, it is nearly fatal and sends me into a swirl of black uncon- sciousness that I wake from hours later to reprimands from not one but both males.

  Dominant asses.

  After nearly two months here in our realm, Aiden prepares to leave again for an update within the courts. The air warms our training circle while the stream happily bleats out her bubbling song. What was once a circle in the grass is now a circle of bare earth, worn through completely with our training. My tunic is drenched with sweat, and I keep pushing loose strands of hair from my face. My throat is parched and dry; I am in desperate need of water, but I refuse to stop.

  Malor coaches me, "Adjust your stance wider; you know a solid base of support will keep you balanced and upright. If you fall, that's an easy target for your opponent." Aiden watches from the sidelines, his gaze heavy on my movements.

  "Annie, don't watch him, watch what's coming straight for you!" Aiden shouts to me from his place on the rock.

  I duck and dodge Malor's efforts to drown me in his waves, but they are relentless, as he sends one right af- ter the other. His laughter has me shaking with anger and frustration.

  "You have the control now. You're improving, so don't think I’ll go easy on you," he chides. "Remember

  to hone in on that frustration and control it or else it will get you killed."

  Water molecules from plants nearby and the boun- tiful stream behind us strengthen Malor's replenish- ment and make his power seems endless. "If the elements are available nearby, they can aid in your en- ergy and ability. This can either benefit you or work against you."

  Suddenly my throat closes up; I can't breathe. Panic swells in my chest with the realization that Malor is drowning me from the inside, filling my lungs, throat, and nose with water. The possibility of death runs icy fingers through my brain as I struggle against it, unable to focus on what Aiden is shouting.

  "That's enough, Malor." His growl seems muffled beneath the rushing of water through my ears.

  Malor's response sounds far away. "She can handle

  it."

  My eyes squeeze tight against the blurring vision.

  My fingers grip my chest right over my heart. The struggle changes into something different as I force myself to relax, remembering what Malor said: “Re- member to hone in on that frustration and control it.”

  My chest eases, and the water absorbs into my lungs, which hold the capacity flawlessly. In the same way I pull the heat from my core to expend my fire, I pull the water from my lungs and use the same push- ing experience to navigate the water up through my throat and out of my mouth, spewing it in a stream to- ward Malor. He throws up his hands instinctively and

  envelopes himself in a wa
ll of his own water just as my water flows into him.

  "Whoa!" he shouts in surprise. "Careful! These boots were handcrafted—you almost got them wet."

  The wall absorbs my stream, and they both dissolve, leaving behind a dumbfounded Malor, dry as a bone, much to my dissatisfaction, and Aiden at his side look- ing mildly enthused.

  "I d-don't..." The words fail me. I'm not sure what happened. My arms are dry as if the water never was. My breathing is normal as though I wasn’t drowning mere seconds ago. Delving into my center, there is no water, just the familiar warmth. My confusion tran- spires into anger. "What did you do?" My eyes burn into Malor as his eyes shift uncomfortably to Aiden.

  Presumptuous, dominant ass.

  Running a hand through his curls, Malor offers, "I thought it would help." He lowers his hands slowly be- fore they slacken by his side.

  "You could have killed me!" I seethe and ball up my fists to staunch the urge to throttle him.

  Aiden prowls over to stand in front of me, an un- usual look in his eyes. He still looks so unearthly beau- tiful, even in the simple white T-shirt that fits so well to his defined chest. My chest heaves as I pull my eyes away from Malor to focus on Aiden.

  With a tone that sounds like amazement or awe, he asks, "Is that possible? Did you take Malor's ability?" He leans his head to the left, observing me with those emerald eyes, studying every inch of me, burning and

  leaving me hot, tingly. I straighten and relax, roiling with misunderstanding. My palms are slick with sweat, and I press them hard into my thighs as they start to shake.