The world before him exploded, showing a flourishing, rich place filled with discipline and trust. Because of him. For him. He hungrily drank every detail in, before it faded into an inky blackness once more.
He panted in the darkness, whispering, “Is this true?”
“This world can be yours and more if you want to accept your fate. Claim what is yours, Adair. The Faes have hidden us out of fear of power. Your parents are blinded by rage. But you, you are different from them all.”
The crystals flared back to life. He stared down at his hands, the inky swirls staining his skin. Tainted by darkness. He curled his fingers, clenching them into tights fists as he whispered, “What would you have me do?”
“For a price, you will have access to unlimited power unseen by this world. There will be forces working against you if you choose this, but together, we will be unstoppable.” Scrambling back, he watched the water begin to rise, forming the outline of a man. “I have been locked away for centuries, waiting for the right person to come along. My wielders sealed me in this book, having wanted it to be a poison for this world, wanting to destroy it. They are using all the forces they can raise to work against me. I wish to purge this world, not destroy it. Cleanse it and then allow it to flourish. For true magic to rise again.”
Adair watched the water churn, and he shook his head. “How is this possible? You’re magic?”
The voice mused. “Ancient, but essentially, yes.”
Gaping, he was speechless. From the shadows, giggles formed, and the four figures he was all too familiar with strode slowly toward the pool, gazing at him hungrily. He whispered, “And your friends here? Who are they?”
The water flickered, the form moving, gazing behind at the creatures. The voice sighed. “These are echoes of my once masters. Bound within my magic, they are like ghosts. Unable to hurt you, but stubbornly present.” Their giggles crawled toward him, making him shiver. Rubbing his hands together, he realized that the inky smoke had started to churn on his skin.
“They marked me.” His voice was hollow, and the magic rippled around him, stirring.
“You and I, and even the essence of them, are all connected. There is no turning back now, Adair. Follow your path that we both know is true.”
He stood, looking all around him in wonder. It was a flicker of recognition, of that pull of gravity that had brought him here. The darkness that he always thought he should hide, that worked against him, maybe he had been wrong all these years. Maybe the forces of this world had been leading him here. To this moment.
Air hissed between his teeth as he exhaled, and he murmured, “And the price?”
The shadows pressed in, the pool dimming, and the whispers closed in. It was laden with heaviness, and joy as the ancient voice replied, “Blood for blood. The price to access your power is to spill that who has hidden us here. You must destroy the Faes.”
Ice ran threw his veins at the lust in those words. He opened his mouth and then closed it tightly. A humming filled the air, and he could practically taste the endless possibilities. He stepped forward. “And how is this power worth it?”
Laughter echoed around him. “Anything you desire will be yours, Adair. Raise a city, raise an army. It will be endless. This book contains unlimited knowledge and unlimited resources and power. You will remake this world.”
His hands trembled, the Gortach’s previous warning clinging to him. He took another tentative step. “And I will be King?”
The voices purred. “Yes.”
His cheeks flushed, the thrill surging through his stomach. He was so close to the pool, the silhouette towering over him. He stood taller, his mind racing and his heart breaking, giving in to who he was. What he was and always had been. This time, he wouldn’t bow to anyone else. He couldn’t. Without hesitation, he stepped through the outline, the water splashing down on him, flattening his hair, as he whispered, “I will do it. I will end them.”
The light died at his words as he dove into the pool, the vastness of it an illusion when looking in. Whispers exploded through his mind, unrelenting and sharp, as the water changed, inky smoke blooming within the pool. You are ours, Adair. Ours.
Pain, hot and lacing, lanced through him. It felt like his bones were shattering and splintering, his stomach turning molten. The taste of ash filled his mouth, and screams echoed around him. Or maybe it was him. He was dragged deeper, an unseen current ripping at his clothes. Water clogged his senses, filling in through his nostrils, spilling in his mouth. His lungs burned, igniting and with each second begging for oxygen. Dots danced in his vision and he flailed, screaming, “Help me!”
No one answered.
He succumbed, stilling his body and mind to the pain, his fear, and he leashed it. Water filled his lungs, choking him. Steadiness filled him, his ability coursing through his soul. Onward, he was dragged down, the pressure popping his ear drums, until beneath him, the crystals flared once more, deep crimson red. Roaring filled his senses as the water started spinning and spinning, the cyclone raging against him. His body contorted, twisting and splitting, and he was dragged violently up, tearing through the water. For a moment, he was suspended in the air, choking and dragging in wet breaths. Before he crashed down.
Wind howled around him, and he slammed onto hard sand, his ribs cracking. The water was gone, leaving coolness in its wake. Coughing and sputtering, water spewed from his mouth as his lungs desperately took in oxygen. He was soddened and shakily he raised his head. He was in a small, clear space the wet sand hard beneath him. Fresh bruises had already started to form from
