Page 30 of A Simple Truth (the Freckled Fate #2)
29
GIDEON
T he air in my tent was laced with a certain level of uneasiness. The long, rusty key twisted a few times, unlocking a small safe built into my desk. “Here.” I handed off the blood-stained papers to Finn. “Read,” I commanded. My eyes ignited the lamps with a flicker of fire to give her more light as her face scanned the pages.
“Like I said before, these are coordinates.” She put the papers down, looking straight at me.
“All those pages?” Xentar, in his Creator fashion, was the least frazzled by the news as he lounged back on the couch, observing. Finn nodded.
“The way Elves write…it’s not just by location on the map, but geological location. It describes a few landmarks and distance from those, also pointing out south and east directions,” she explained.
“How peculiar,” Xentar commented.
“It’s also describing a very specific location and how to get there.” Finn handed me the papers back and I took them.
“Okay, now read this.” I gave her another stack of papers, ones she hadn’t seen before. I studied her, as those emerald eyes read the first page, then the second one. Even Zora paused her nervous pacing, Orest observing her from the shadows in the corner.
“This…” Finnleah shook her head, as she ran her finger back to the first page. “This speaks of an object.”
“A stone,” I corrected, as she raised her eyes to me, “If we were to believe the translations we’ve obtained.”
“Yes. It says that the stone can take powers. Absorb, is a better word for it, actually. More so, not just absorb, but contain. Here...” She turned the page, quickly scanning it, moving her finger down as she speedily read. “It says that the stone is capable of permanently altering someone’s magical ability, completely transferring the powers away. Here, it is also written that once the stone is used, the action is irreversible. Now, here,”she tapped the page with her fingers “it says that there is no limit to the amount of magic the stone can hold….” She continued reading, until she raised her brow in question at me. “Why are you looking for this?”
“Because we are going to use it to kill Insanaria,” I nonchalantly replied, watching her every movement, noting every flicker of her lashes as her mind worked in wondrous ways.
“Why do you need a stone to kill her?” she questioned.
Xentar poured a bit of water into a cup while he explained.
“The Mad Queen, as people like to call her, is a mage. A Creator, to be precise. A long time ago, she was shunned for using dark rituals to attempt to bring the dead back to life. Something even the strongest Healers are not able to do. Something that is ultimately not allowed by the moral code of Creators, and to be quite honest, not even possible.” He motioned to Orest next to him. Orest, who was leaning against the tent pole, sent a wave of heat, immediately warming his tea. Xentar nodded in appreciation. “In the Great Betrayal, she made a deal to rule over the Magic Wielders, which, in its innocence, seemed like it couldn't be that bad, right? I mean, we lived under the Destroyers’ rule for all those years, so being on our own, with our own leader, seemed like a good move. Or so we thought…” He took a sip of his tea. “But the truth of the matter was, she had no interest in our domain. She didn’t want the power. She wanted our magic. All of it.” Xentar stirred his tea with a spoon, mixing a drop of sugar.
“Here is the thing about our magic, Finn,” he continued. “It simply exists. It’s always there. You can’t subtract from it; you can’t add to it; the magic force is always in balance. You die, but your magic doesn’t disappear; it is transferred to a newborn child somewhere. Always an equilibrium, and no mage can change that. However, what Insanaria discovered is a ritual of magic transfer. If the magic force is constantly the same, then there is no way to grab more, unless…” He landed his golden eyes on her as Finn quietly said,
“Unless you take it from others. That is why she’s been killing them all, hunting them.” Her voice was strong and determined as she pieced everything together.
“However, transferring magic is not simple. Besides being a prohibited ritual, it is volatile. Our magic doesn’t obey our rules, we obey it. So, most people that are separated from their magic die. The few that don’t, exist like a shell, a body with no soul. The problem that she’s run into is that even with the ritual, she has little control over the magic. Sometimes the transfer is successful, and she adds more depth to her powers, and sometimes it’s not and she’s killed someone for nothing. Though, she has increased the odds after years of trial and error. She is now, no doubt, the most powerful Creator, or Magic Wielder, to ever exist, save it be the first Goddess.”
“So, what happens if we kill her?” Finn asked, her face calm and calculating, her eyes flickering with fortitude.
“At best? We all die before we find out.” Xentar gave a gloomy smile.
“The magic she’s accumulated is not only big enough, and unnatural for any single being to hold, but it’s also not her own. It is very precarious wild magic, that we also assume has been mixed with the magic of other mages besides Creators, so all of the kinds pooled. So, if we kill the host, a deadly magic force will be released, killing everyone in Esnox like one giant bomb,” Zora remarked with dread in her voice.
“But with the stone, you could fix that,” Finn noted, returning her gaze to me. “That is why you are looking for it.” I nodded in confirmation. “But why not just imprison her, fill her blood with enough Magnesium to stop her?” She probed further.
“Because simple Magnesium no longer holds her back,” I replied. “We’ve tried,” I casually added, though never forgetting the price we paid for that simple bit of knowledge; their names were still etched deep in my heart.
“Effects of crazy amounts of unruly magic,” Zora remarked.
“So, she has most of the magic now… That has to be quite a lot, considering the current numbers of living Creators and other mages. What else does she want?” Finn raised her eyes to Xentar.
“Her logic used to be that if resurrection is not possible, then perhaps cloning is. She is, after all, a very skilled and talented Creator. But there is a reason why most Creators, even the very powerful ones, don't create living beings.” Xentar paused as he motioned with his other hand, morphing my bed into a horse. “It is not enough for one to create a body for it to be alive, it needs a soul. But we are not gods to grant one.” He motioned with his hand once more and the bed reverted to normal. “In order for us to create a living, breathing being, one with thoughts and feelings, we must give a piece of our own soul, splitting it. Create a being, painfully lose a part of yourself. You do that too many times, you shatter your soul like glass. Pieces everywhere. Living and yet, also not alive.”
“But even now, it’s not enough for her,” Zora scoffed.
“Nope,” Xentar continued, “Now she also wants immortality.”
“The elves...” Finn spouted as her eyes widened, “She is going after the elves, isn’t she?” She turned her face to me, still processing all the information.
I nodded.
“But Elves are not immortal, they just live longer than us,” Finn countered, her eyes sharp as they darted between Xentar and Zora.
“Yes, but if she was able to get this far in twenty-five years, imagine what five hundred years of her rule would do,” Zora stated.
“So, she is starting a war with the elves as a side project?” Finnleah’s brows bunched together.
“Destroyers have been restless without the Emperor, so she is finding a way to get rid of two birds with one stone,” Orest contributed from the shadows.
Finn paused, glancing over Zora, Orest, and Xentar, assessing everything, then finally turning to me.
“So, we get the stone, trap the magic, kill the Queen, restore the True Order and live happily ever after? Is that all, or did I miss something?” she asked me.
“That is the general plan,” I answered, unable to stop my lips from tugging upward at the way her eyes shimmered with tenacity, lingering on me.
“So, what are we waiting for then?” she questioned.
“We don’t even know exactly where the stone is,” Zora argued.
“We do now. I have the location. I can only assume you have a map of Elfland, don’t you, General?” Finn asked, still not moving her eyes from me and I fully enjoyed that attention.
“I do,” I gave her a slight nod.
“Sounds like we are ready.” Finnleah shrugged.
“Well, okay then. So, who is going?” Zora released a long sigh.
“I think the fewer people that go, the less chance of starting a war with the elves prematurely. Since I am the only one who can speak or read Elvish, I am definitely going, and since he clearly has no issue with turning people to ash with the blink of an eye, he gets to go too.” Before I could say anything, Finnleah narrowed her eyes at me and sternly added. “Please don’t let this get to your head, General, it is not a compliment; more of a statement of fact.”
Too late , I dramatically mouthed to her, earning a little smile mixed with a scowl, that made my heart jump.
“Sounded like a compliment to me.” Xentar and Orest chuckled near me, and even Zora hid a crooked smile.
We spent hours planning late into the night; how we’d cross the elven border undetected, what strongholds and wards we’d encounter. After a while, once the main plan was decided, Finn crawled onto my couch, tucking her legs underneath the length of her dress as she scanned the Elvish text.
“ Shit ,” Finn cursed, turning a page. We all turned to her at the sound. “It says here the stone can only be found on the full moon. That’s in two days. We won’t make it there in time.”
“We will if we take the dragons,” I responded casually.
“You have dragons now?” she asked, stunned.
“Sort of.” Orest smiled tenderly.
“You know what…I am too tired to question that right now.” She let out a sigh, mumbling something under her breath as she returned her eyes back to the unbound pages.
Perhaps I was too exhausted myself, because I allowed my eyes to shamelessly stare at her half-asleep figure, crouched amidst the elvish scrolls on my couch. She was still dressed in that red dress that looked so damn good on her, my stomach summersaulting each time I looked in her direction. My mind frantically grasped at every single detail my eyes devoured, engraving them in my memory, so I would never forget.
“Focus, brother,” Xentar prodded, politely clearing his throat. But it was of no use, because the only thing I could focus on right now was how perfect she was.