A Battle of Pride and Desire

Chapter Thirty One

Taran had been acting strange all week, even during their lessons. His demeanour was all wrong and Brigette didn't dare think it was to do with her. His home had just been invaded and the threat wasn't gone. Brigette had been isolating in the castle since the battle - people were angry with her. Nobody really knew what happened in the final moments of that battle, only that Brigette had killed some Magmellans when she erupted. The grief was all consuming and it was difficult to focus on her lessons. She couldn't wrap her head around why they wanted her to train her gifts when she was better suited to a bow and arrow. She could kill more people without intending to and that lack of control scared her. She had made little to no progress honing her gifts and couldn't even call on them when she wanted. They had spent hours just standing there, waiting for her to explode or something. Brigette had been pulling on happy thoughts, sad thoughts, strange thoughts, but still nothing. She was growing frustrated with the lack of improvement and she couldn't shake the feeling that everything was going to shit.

She lay in her bed now, staring up at the ceiling after a long day of bickering with Eoin. Eoin was beginning to grow restless with her, she could sense it. The ceiling spun as she gathered her thoughts. How many more days did they have until the fae returned? And how many fae would return at that? Tensions were growing in the castle and just outside the doors of her bed chamber were four guards. There were guards stationed at every corner of the castle as per the queen's orders. The queen had been away all week, begging their allies to help them fight the fae. Brigette had no idea when the queen would be home and what she would bring with her. A multitude of warriors felt like the best outcome. Brigette had managed to write back to Alba the day after she agreed to stay in Magmella. She wrote of how much she missed home, how much she missed Alba. She would be home soon she had assured and Brigette hoped that would be the truth. Although her own death had never scared Brigette, the idea of innocent people dying at her hands petrified her. As she lay in bed, she considered all those who had been injured by her, all those who she had yet to apologise to.

Brigette sat up and put on a navy blouse with a brown skirt. She looked so bland but didn't really mind. Slipping on her shoes, she went to open the door but it opened just as she put her hand out. A tall figure came in and shut the door behind him.

"You gave me a freight," Brigette said, clutching her necklace.

"Sorry," Taran said looking around the room. "But I have an idea."

"About what?" Brigette asked, placing a hand on her hip.

He looked her up and down, "Just come outside."

He opened the door for her, apparently not leaving any room for discussion. Brigette sighed and walked out and down the stairs. Once they were far enough away from the castle, Taran finally spoke.

"I think I know what triggers your gifts," he said quickly.

Brigette was interested now, "How?"

He gestured for her to come forward so she did. He looked at her for a moment and Brigette was confused at what he was trying to do. She opened her mouth to speak but then his arm moved with swift precision, swiping at her forearm. Her entire body jumped at the contact and blood began to spill out of the cut. She looked to his hands a dagger lay in them, her blood on its tip.

"What the hell, Taran?" she cried and sucked at the cut.

"Fight me," he said.

Brigette scoffed, "I'm not going to fight you, Taran."

He only took one step towards her, kicking his leg behind her knees and making her eat dust. She coughed as she pulled herself up slowly, the anger in her rising steadily.