Page 31 of The Lies of Lena (The Otacian Chronicles #1)

Chapter Thirty

FIVE YEARS LATER

L ounging on a wooden bench in the training pit, I watch as Merrick and Elowen battle, thoroughly amused by their repartee. Merrick held up his fingertips, twirling shards of ice in the air before launching them, and Elowen did her best to dodge, quickly evading each spike until one nicked her arm.

“Ugh!” she groaned as blood dripped down her golden-brown forearm. “I am no match for the ice.”

She placed her hand over the fresh wound, and a warm glow emitted from her palm, healing it in seconds. She grinned at me.

Elowen Astair was the best healer in Ames. For only being nineteen, she surpassed everyone in that field, old and young alike. What would take me minutes or sometimes hours took her hardly any time at all. Depending on the severity of the wound, of course .

Merrick snorted. “Finally, you admit it,” he said smugly. Elowen stuck out her tongue in response. Their banter always amused me, the dynamic of half-siblings being something I could never relate to.

Merrick and Elowen’s father, Vicsin Astair, was elected Lord of Ames. When Mother, Torrin, and I had finally arrived here, it was Vicsin who welcomed us with open arms. While I normally resented pity, I was grateful for his kindness. Vicsin was still below Igon, Ames’s Supreme, but still, he was highly respected.

Merrick was also Torrin’s cousin. They both shared bright platinum hair, though Merrick's was more silver than Torrin's white-blond. Though Torrin and Elowen didn’t share blood, he loved her all the same.

Ames, being a rather small town, had only about one hundred fifty people. But everyone here was a Mage. It was…comforting.

Because the town was so remote, there hadn’t even been a home available for us to stay in when we arrived. Vicsin had offered us refuge in his residence with his wife, Heildee, Elowen’s mother, thankfully having extra space to harbor Mother, Torrin, and me. Mother and I slept in their basement, and Torrin’s room was in the attic.

I remember learning how Torrin's parents had vanished shortly before his departure to Otacia. No one knew what happened to them, if they willingly left, or if they were captured or killed. Even after all these years, I knew the lack of answers weighed heavy on Torrin. His room was still kept as it was before in Vicsin’s home, and his uncle was more than happy to welcome him home.

Merrick and I became close quickly. I had arrived in Ames sick from travel, and he was by my side the entire time. I could tell part of him was closed off, and I felt like we related to each other in that sense. He never wished to go into detail about the strain in his family, but he told me Vicsin cheated on his mother with Heildee, resulting in Elowen. After his father discovered the pregnancy, leaving his mother and breaking her heart, she committed suicide five years later. Merrick hated his father for it and still does to this day.

He had hated Elowen, too, even though he knew their father’s infidelity wasn’t her fault. At that time of our arrival, Merrick was nineteen, Elowen was fourteen, and I was surprised to discover that the two hardly spoke. But despite everything, they worked together to comfort me alongside Torrin while I was unwell. We all had grown rather close these past five years.

Five years…

It had been five years since I left Otacia…since I went back on the run. Five years since I was in my cottage, relaxing by the river or running our stand at the market.

Five years since I left Silas.

Not a day, minute, or second went by without him on my mind.

It had also been over a year since I last saw Torrin…since he left Ames abruptly without even saying goodbye.

A year since…

I shook my head at the thought. I didn’t wish to think of it.

Merrick sauntered over to Elowen and tousled her light, pink hair that she kept in a pixie cut. She swatted at him before she brushed her bangs back to where they lay cutely on her forehead. There was a similarity between the looks of them, but Merrick’s skin, which was fair like mine, was a stark contrast to Elowen’s tawny skin. They both shared blue eyes, yet Elowen’s were more pigmented, while Merrick’s were nearly grey .

Merrick took a swig out of his waterskin, then wiped his mouth. “What do you say, Lena, you next?”

I grinned as I vacated my seat on the bench. I passed Elowen’s petite figure as I made my way down the few steps to the pit. “I don’t want to hear you crying like last time.”

He laughed, took another sip of water, and then tied back his hair, which, when not in his usual ponytail, rested a few inches past his shoulders. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt, the neckline a dramatic V, showcasing his muscular chest. He paired it with grey pants and black boots; an outfit that lacked color was his usual style. He wasn’t adorning his typical bow and quiver. No need for that during our practice today.

It was fascinating because the people of Ames were all Mages, openly Mages. I remember my jaw dropping when I first came here, shocked to see so many pointed ears and so many people freely practicing magic.

Many of the townsfolk had no idea how to wield a weapon nor a desire to learn how to. But Merrick and Elowen were intrigued, especially considering their cousin had become quite the warrior over the past eight years. It was another thing we bonded over. Elowen chose to learn using a dagger, and while Merrick could use a sword, he preferred the bow, mostly because he could make ice arrows that had the potential to kill an enemy in one hit.

As for me, it was Torrin who taught me everything there was to know about magic, about wielding and fighting with it. He had trained me for years. Sometimes, he’d poke fun at me while I’d train our friends but would quickly bite back a grin when I’d mention they were his techniques .

I miss you…

Torrin hadn’t spoken in my mind since the last time I saw him, though I still would talk to him in my head, hoping somehow, someway, he was listening. His abilities could only go a certain distance, him speaking to me from Castle La’Rune while I was in my cottage was about as far as he could go. Still, I hoped.

Merrick cracked his knuckles and got into a fighting stance. I smirked, flipped my long braid over my shoulder, and thought of my plan of action.

Merrick had acquired ice magic, as had I. A decent handful of Mages in Ames had as well. I suppose it isn’t uncommon to go through such sorrow in your lifetime.

Before I could think, he shot a bolt of ice at me. I held out my palm, melting the shard with my fire magic before it could pierce my chest. Merrick grunted and sent five more shards at me, and I whirled my hands to create a circle of fire, melting them all instantly.

Merrick crossed his arms. “And I am no match for fire.”

Elowen chuckled in her seat. “No one is a match for Lena.”

It was true. Now that Torrin was gone, I was the only Mage in Ames who could wield fire, save for Igon. I unlocked the ability years ago and had excelled with it. Controlling it could be hard at times—same with ice, depending on my emotions. But I could admit I had skill.

Merrick dragged his teeth along his lip ring, then continued his assault. With ease, I melted his shards of ice and elegantly dodged the others. He groaned in frustration and rushed for me. I could have easily used a forcefield and shot him back, but it would' ve been a cheap shot. I dodged and swept my feet under him, knocking him right on his ass.

Elowen burst out laughing, and Merrick shot her a glare.

I clicked my tongue. “Lunging for me would’ve never worked.”

He sighed and rested back on his palms. The early afternoon sun was shining through the window behind Elowen as a black cat jumped through it. It stretched its limbs before it’s violet gaze looked to her.

“Would it be weird if I pet you?” Elowen asked in her usual bubbly voice, and the cat shifted into a woman with ebony skin, the same purple eyes sparkling.

“Yes, that would be weird,” she smiled, then glanced over at Merrick and me.

“Lena still kicking your ass, Merrick?” she teased.

“Please, I was just about to shoot her in the rib,” he said as he tried to pierce me while looking at her. I, of course, caught it in time and melted that one too. Merrick groaned and laid on his back, hands covering his face in shame, and I couldn’t help but laugh, the girls joining in with me.

“Yeah, ha-ha,” Merrick mumbled while waving his hand in dismissal. “Why are you here, Viola?”

She shot up smoothly and crossed her arms, her deep purple braids swinging just past her chest. “I can’t hang with my friends?”

I was introduced to Viola Sonnet as one of Merrick’s friends when I first came here. While she didn’t have any elemental magic unlocked, her ability to shape-shift like a Warlock made her one of the most powerful Mages in Ames. Her smooth, brown skin and almond eyes weren’t the only thing that made her beautiful. She truly radiated confidence. I envied it .

“I thought you didn’t want to train today,” Merrick grumbled from his position on the floor, the various piercings in his pointed ears reflecting the filtering sunlight.

“I told you—Igon wished to speak with me earlier.” She turned her attention to me. “Actually, he wants to speak with you now, which is why I’m here, Merrick .” She shot him a side-eye.

“Why does he want me?” I asked as I stretched my arms.

Viola just shrugged. “He told me Osrel was taking the day off and wished for help dusting the shelves in his office. Then, we were discussing Warlock folklore for a while. I was just about to leave when he asked me to fetch you.”

“Alright,” I replied, then grinned. “You can take my place then—kicking Merrick’s ass.”

Merrick rolled his eyes in response but kept his smile.

“What would you prefer I shape-shift into? A lion? A bear?” Viola taunted as she strode towards him.

“A fish,” he muttered as he stood from the ground.

I chuckled and gave Elowen a smile before I headed to Igon’s tower. He was the leader of Ames—our Supreme—and a very insightful older man. It was bizarre meeting him for the first time nearly five years ago after hearing about him from Torrin all that time.

I walked up the spiral steps of the tower and into his office at the top. The windows were open, the early May breeze pleasantly blowing throughout the room. The walls were lined with hundreds, if not thousands, of books, and the room had a faint scent of vanilla. There had been a time I snuck in here, peeking at all the various spells and enchantments his tomes contained. Thankfully, when he caught me, he showed mercy and just laughed. If anyone else had done it, I think he would have been displeased. But, for whatever reason, he enjoyed my interest and even began to tutor me afterward.

“Ah, Lena.” He was sitting at his desk, stroking his short silver beard. While Igon was in his sixties, he remained in good shape. He was fit, and honestly, I think a lot of the women in town who were Mother’s age were attracted to him based on the giggling he’d receive when they’d pass by him. Whether he was aware of it or not, he didn’t let on.

He cleared his throat. “Tell me, dear, what do you know of Oquerene?”

I blinked, “Oquerene? The realm where we all originated from, yes?” I had read about it in one of the books he let me borrow not too long ago. It was not a spell book, just ancient tales of our people.

He nodded. “It is said that the Mages of today stemmed from that realm—a kingdom above the skies. A place where every creature spoken of in fairytales resides, the ones said to be extinct…” He paused, then met my eyes with a smile. “Can you imagine such a place?”

“It sounds…lovely,” I murmured. “And too fantastical to be real.”

He chuckled. “Some believe that Oquerene was also the land of the Gods. That Ravaiana, the Goddess of Life, allowed those who lived there to be immune to the effects of time.”

My eyebrows raised. “The people there could live forever? I don’t recall reading that.”

Igon chuckled. “Well, not forever, no. I imagine that they could still be affected by sickness or violence. But, if the Goddess deemed them worthy, they would not age past a certain point.”

I frowned. When Igon learned of my lack of knowledge of our people, he insisted on teaching me as much as he could about our culture. He told me of the Gods—the Gods the Mages believed in, anyway, as they differed from the ones the humans worshipped. One of the biggest differences was the human Gods merely watched over us, while our Gods shared their power with humanity, manifesting in the varied species of magical humans that once roamed the planet. Most had been killed off, but the Mages lived on.

Igon had taken on a special role in my life, almost father-like. There had been so much he’d taught me over the last five years.

My eyes trailed to the large statue of the Goddess Ravaiana at the back of Igon’s library. “What could possibly make someone worthy of such a gift?”

Igon smiled. “You’d have to ask the Goddess yourself.”

I shifted on my feet. “Being another realm, would it have even been possible to go there?”

There was a twinkle of something in his topaz eyes, something I couldn’t place. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my sixty-one years of life, is that anything is possible.” He glanced back down at the map he had sprawled out on his desk. “Come over,” he motioned, and I did just that, taking a seat across from him at his desk. His hands were adorned with rings, and he placed one digit on the large parchment in front of him, its material yellowed by time.

“This is one of the main maps used by the other kingdoms in Tovagoth.” His finger drifted to an area northwest of Ames, our settlement penned in unofficially. “You see this area here?” he asked, pointing at an area on the map with a unique symbol that had been added presumably by him—a swirl with a tail trailed downward, an assortment of symbols alongside it that I couldn’t decipher. “This is where Mount Rozavar is. I know a man named Immeron. He and his family live at the top of that mountain.”

I wanted to touch the map, but I held my hands together in my lap. “I imagine that’s cold,” I muttered.

He laughed at that, showing bright, white teeth. His smile always seemed…familiar. “Quite the opposite. Well, the base of the mountain is. But on the top, it is weather-controlled through magic—the gift of the man’s wife. It’s actually pleasant up there.”

“You’ve been?”

To that, he smiled almost wearily as he glanced down at the map. “I have. This symbol here,” he said as he pointed to the swirl, “only Mages can see it, but it is on the base of the mountain. If approved, you’re teleported right up to the top.”

“That’s incredible,” I breathed, then looked at him. “Why are you showing me this?” I asked warily.

“My friends who live up there are expert enchanters, blacksmiths. They have made me many skilled pieces over the years: weapons, jewelry, and armor. Immeron even made a fully functional arm for his wife, who was born without one. Quite miraculous,” he grinned, then leaned forward. “Just in case you find yourself in need of his services.”

I raised one of my brows at him. Anytime a seer said something like that, there was more to it. This also meant there was a reason he couldn’t tell me, as it could alter the future.

When I arrived in Ames and Torrin introduced me to Igon, I felt immense comfort knowing that us listening to Kayin was the right thing to do, though he was surprised that we knew her name. He didn’t offer any ideas as to who she was or where she came from—said, as a seer, that it was information we couldn’t know .

He assured us that the Queen’s assassination was not anything he or Kayin was a part of, and I could swear his eyes welled with tears when we spoke of it. Even if the Queen was a La’Rune, even if she couldn’t stop the prejudice towards our people, she had a good heart, and everyone knew it.

I sighed in defeat and looked back at the map, memorizing the location of Mount Rozavar.

“How has your control of fire been?” he asked after a few moments of silence between us.

“Good. Great, even.” I lifted my head from the map, then huffed as I rested my back against my chair, crossing my arms. “Though, still no special ability.”

Igon’s eyes flickered, and he drummed his fingers on the table. “You are more special than you know,” he said quietly.

I frowned, and then my eyes widened. “Wait…have you…have you seen my gift?”

He smiled but didn’t respond.

“When will I get it?” I pressed.

“When the time is right. And I won’t speak on it anymore!” he chuckled.

I groaned in frustration, then placed my elbow on the desk to rest my cheek on my fist. “Is it ever torturous? Knowing so much and not being able to say anything?”

Sadness wavered in his amber eyes, and his shoulders slumped as he sighed. “More than you could fathom. It isn’t an ability I would wish on anyone.”

Igon was a secretive man—no one knew much about him, even I, who had spent so much time in his tower. He came to Ames when he was thirty-six. The people instantly warmed to him, I guess, many saying they felt like they had known him for quite some time. He never married. Never had children. I always wondered why but didn’t have it in me to ask.

I gently took my other hand and placed it on his. I couldn’t imagine the weight he must carry every day, couldn’t imagine all that he really knew.

He gave me a soft smile, then gently squeezed my hand with his other. “Now, don’t go pitying me—I know you hate when people do it to you.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled, then sat up straight, our hands disconnecting. “Igon?”

His smile faded. “Yes?”

Mine was now gone as well, and I bit my lip before speaking. “Do you…have you seen anything about Torrin?”

There was a gentleness to his features. “He is alive if that is what you are asking.”

My shoulders sagged, and I looked to the floor. “I just can’t believe he has stayed away for so long. This was his home, after all.”

It was quiet, and Igon let out a shaky exhale. “It was me.”

To that, my head sprang right up. I had to have heard him wrong. “What did you say?”

He kept his expression neutral, but I could see the guilt in his eyes. “I am the one who sent him away, more or less.”

When his words registered, I sprang to my feet, gripping the desk in anguish. When Torrin had left, I immediately went to Igon, who at the time told me he knew nothing of it .

“You lied to me,” I gritted out. Any bit of sympathy or warm feeling for Igon was gone at that moment. “Why? What did you say to him?”

Igon clasped his fingers together. He just stared at me.

I could feel the flames burning inside me, and I slammed my fist on his desk, the little trinkets on top of it rattling in response. “Damnit, Igon! You lied to me!” It was taking everything in me not to unleash hell on his library. “Tell me why!”

He looked at me for a few moments, and just before I was going to explode, he spoke. “I told him to leave because of his growing feelings toward you.”

I blinked several times, wanting so badly to have heard him wrong. “You forced him to leave because he desired me?” I asked with dark calmness. If my voice didn’t portray my anger, I knew my eyes and shaking limbs did.

Igon winced. “Forced isn’t the correct word. Strongly suggested,” he said cautiously. “It is known who your Soul-Tie is, Lena. It isn’t Torrin.”

I let out a shaky exhale.

Calm the flames, calm the flames.

My hands were clenched so hard into the wood that I wouldn’t be all that surprised if my fingers were indented into it. “Ames was his home, not mine. If you cared so much for who I ended up with, then it should’ve been me you suggested to leave.” I shook my head in disbelief. “The Prince is married. It doesn’t matter who my Soul-Tie is! ”

It was true that the news of his marriage a year ago completely wrecked me. But Silas believed me to be dead. Of course he would move on.

Igon tensed. “I know you are angry—”

“Angry? I am furious.” I seethed. “What, I am just supposed to be partnerless for the rest of my days? Just because you are okay being alone your entire life doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

Igon flinched, actually flinched at those words, then pointed to the door. “Leave,” he said calmly. “Take some time to cool off. You’ll see things more clearly later.”

I bared my teeth. “Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Where IS HE?” I cried, and my fists erupted in flame, Igon’s desk catching fire. I backed away nervously, and Igon cursed as he pushed the contents of his desk onto the ground and frantically ran to the washroom sink, filling a bucket with water. Though he could also wield fire, attempting to calm another Mage's flames was a difficult, if not impossible, task.

I just stood there, my mouth forming a tight line as I studied the flames. I should feel remorse, but I didn’t. Even letting out a small bit of fire did nothing to relieve the anger.

Igon poured the bucket over the top of his desk, successfully extinguishing the flames. He looked at me in disappointment.

“I won’t forgive you for this,” I hissed, and with that, I walked out.