How Shadows Turn to Ash

Chapter 17: Octavia

Octavia tackled Dainn to the ground. She could feel him struggling, reaching for weapons that wouldn't have been allowed in a wedding hall. She tried to pin his hand down, but he rolled over her. Octavia had never been trained in combat, but her father had taught her a few basic things in case anyone tried to kidnap her.

"Son of a-" Dainn hissed when she headbutted up so that there was a crunching sound when her forehead met his nose. Before he could recover, she felt a fallen decoration beside her and went to whack him with it. He managed to block her, but she used the force to tilt him over.

Grabbing his hair, she pulled him back to the ground, reminding herself to stick to his injured side. He hadn't learned to fight with one leg yet. It was another reason she had chosen him for this role. Dainn might be a skilled fighter, but he had pretty much told her his skills had been compromised while he was healing.

"Give." Octavia bit his arm as hard as she could. When he jerked away, she pinned it to the ground. "Me." This time, he managed to throw her off, but she grabbed his ankle before he could get up. "The stupid-" This time, she felt a piece of broken glass next to her and stabbed downwards. There was a gasp as she met a target, feeling something warm and sticky blossoming under her hand. "Magic."

In the darkness, she could make out a vague outline of Dainn's arm. Feeling his forearm, she pushed her hand up to meet his palm. She only had minutes before he recovered, and at some point, Dainn would probably still be able to take her down.

Shouts of alarm and pattering footsteps echoed around the halls. The darkness concealed her from the revolutionaries, but she only had seconds before someone found her. Already she could feel someone reaching directly above her, trying to use the noise to locate them. 

"We're here!" Dainn shouted, and Octavia quickly pressed her palm against Dainn's. Heat began to build, flooding from her palm to her wrist, down into her arms. Despite the world around her exploding with chaos, Octavia felt herself relax at the familiarity of it.

Finally. Finally. Octavia felt the power race through her. It wasn't the high-quality fire magic she had grown up with. It was cheap and slowly dwindling out, but it would do. That also explained why Dainn hadn't tried to attack her with it. Fire magic of this quality would be hard to control while injured.

Luckily, Octavian was unharmed and very talented.

A hand grabbed her arm and she let the heat run up her arm. Whoever had reached for hissed, yanking back as her skin burned them.

Breathing heavily, Octavia got up and clapped her hands together. At once, all the candles burst back on, illuminating the room. Dainn coughed, paler now that his magic was gone. Octavia could see she had stabbed him in the center of his stomach, the blood trickling through his shirt.

"Come on," she said, wiping the blood off her dress. "You're... my... hostage..."

"Screw you," Dainn gasped as she tried to pull him up. He was too heavy, and Octavia was already exhausted.

"Get up... or... I'll burn you..."

"Burn me," Dainn spat and reached for the piece of glass Octavia had stabbed him with. She flicked her hand, and the glass heated into a bright red. Dainn hissed when his hand brushed it. "This was all a distraction," he muttered. Octavia grabbed his sleeve and tugged. "You're trying to buy time for your sister to escape."

Correct. Octavia wouldn't admit to that, though. She needed to hold Dainn hostage until she was sure Antonia and Nema were far enough away to-

"HELP!"

Octavia's head whipped up. Lucius' voice echoed through the room, pausing the chaos of Revolutionaries all hurtling in Octavia's direction, only to turn and see Antonia standing at the bottom of the staircase. Lucius was in front of her with a knife across his throat. The crowd gasped. Friedrich stepped forward as Octavia felt her heart drop.