Heir of the Underground

Chapter 10: Leviathan

Morning had only just begun and yet Leviathan Ashblood was already fed up with the day and anxious for it to be over.

It all started when Prince Kassius summoned Leviathan in the early morning hours. Kassius often did that—assembled meetings at inconvenient times. He rarely slumbered, choosing instead to work endlessly, so meetings were bound to occur at odd hours. But Leviathan never minded. Like Kassius, he seldom slept and focused more on his job than anything else, so time became an afterthought.

What Leviathan did mind, however, was the purpose of the meetings. And this meeting...

He should've been expecting it. He should've expected to get called to Kassius's study to talk about her. This girl. The one he had gone to Rheolaeth for, with Kassius leading the way. He had let the prince glamour him too, magically dress him like some human gent, all because they needed to find some girl. A Fey girl—a sister, perhaps.

Except, she wasn't that. He had heard the whisperings. And he had sensed it from Kassius too. If she had been the one, the prince wouldn't have been in his study. He wouldn't have called a meeting. He'd be celebrating, spending time with family. Making up for lost time.

So Leviathan had been anticipating the "defeat" speech from Kassius, a session to replan and determine a new course of action, too.

Only, that's not what he was met with. Not at all.

He had been summoned at dawn, not to talk about his misjudgment about the girl or about a new plan to find his real sibling. No—he wanted Leviathan to train the girl.

Leviathan, a skilled soldier who had fought his way through the Great War and become the youngest Captain of the Guard in all of Fey history—he was the train her?

He understood that she had fire magic, just like he did. And that, though not who they had been looking for, she deserved training and the skills needed to fit into her new environment.

But still, train her?

Leviathan did not train people. And certainly not those who were completely new to their magic. Or their heritage.

"It's as easy as breathing," Leviathan reminded the girl—who Leviathan now knew to be called Aurelia. "You just call on it, and it should answer."

"But it's not," she grumbled. "It's not answering. I can't do this."

It was clear that Aurelia was growing more and more frustrated, which was only hindering her progress even further.

They'd been training for over an hour and had made no improvements. Aurelia's magic seemed non-existent. No matter how many times Leviathan demonstrated, or gave tips, her magic never showed.

He was beginning to lose his patience too. He often did, given the situation, but it was rare that he showed it, rare that he let it be known. Leviathan often thought of himself as impenetrable and guarded, even more so than the armor he wore in battle. But somehow, Aurelia was breaking through his defenses.

Leviathan took a deep breath and paused for a moment. He tried to remind himself that she was new and naïve. She was twenty, but, given the time that she had spent in Rheolaeth, her magic was at the same level as that of a four-year-old, which wasn't her fault.

"I know this is difficult for you, alright?" Leviathan relented. "I know that this is all new, and that you're starting late, and that's hard. But you need to be more optimistic. If you say you can't do this, then you won't be able to."