How Shadows Turn to Ash

Chapter 21: Octavia

Octavia woke up on a thin blanket with her body aching.

Each movement felt like a thousand hits, everything throbbing as she blurrily gauged her surroundings. She was in some sort of barn, straw thrown across the floor and wood creaking around her. Her horse was watching her from a stall as it chewed some grain. Octavia tilted her head, noticing wrappings on its shoulder and neck.

"You burned the holy hell out of him."

Octavia gasped, jerking back at the voice. The action sent a burst of pain through her, black spots dancing over her eyes. When she managed to pull herself together, she spied a hulking man in the corner with a pair of knitting needles in his hands and a ball of yarn to the side.

"Be calm," the stranger said, continuing his next stitch. "I'm not here to hurt you." His brows furrowed as he focused on the yarn, tongue poking out between his lips. Seeing such a large man with such a tiny pair of needles was comically bewildering, but Octavia was too tense to appreciate it. "My girl fixed up your horse, but it'll take a while before you can ride again. I'm surprised you didn't kill the damn thing."

Octavia was, too. While using fire magic, you became somewhat immune to burning. Somewhat. She knew the protection would have extended to whatever she was touching, in this case, the horse. But she had never known it to work to this extent. The fact that both she and the horse were alive... It seemed unreal.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to remember anything before the world turned black. She could only picture the dragon above her and the feeling of heat over her arms. She looked at her hands, startled to find them raw. Any words she might have said were snatched from her throat. The red and white lines on her palms were stitching themselves together. The man paused his knitting to grimace at her.

"I... looked at your hands, too," he added, voice growing more cautious. "I'm sorry." Sorry? Octavia looked at him, confused. Sorry for what? The man paused to count his stitches before continuing, though it may have been an excuse to avoid telling her whatever news this was. "Hands like that can't hold magic."

Octavia stared. Can't...hold.... magic? She looked back down at her palms. Sure, they were scarred. Whenever she used the last of the fire magic, it had clearly burned through her hands. But the skin healed. She would heal.

"For now, of course," she agreed. The man raised a brow. "I will use magic again." Silence met her declaration. "Who are you?"

The man shrugged. "Jacques," he answered. Octavia waited for more. None came. He was just Jacques, which was fine by her. She stood up, wincing a bit as her legs wobbled.

"What happened?" she asked again, walking to the horse. There was a snort in greeting as she approached, but the stallion didn't look thrilled to see her. She supposed that was fair. It wasn't like they previously had a joyous time together. She stepped away to give him more room.

"I don't know," Jacques said, pulling the yarn over the needle. "I was with my girl out in the fields, and suddenly, there was a fire about a mile away. A huge dragon was flying. Never seen a dragon quite like that," he added, somewhere between awed and horrified. "I went out, and all these men were going every which way. The dragon was trying to shield them from the fire."

Octavia nodded. That had been her hope. That the dragon would prioritize saving the Revolutionaries' lives over ending hers.

"Well, the fire was going down, and your horse was still running with you about to fall off. I took you in."

"And the men?" Octavia asked, looking around as if they might be hiding in the shadows. "Did you see two other girls on a horse?"

Octavia had faith that Nema and Antonia had been far enough away from the carnage, but it would be nice to have some confirmation. Jacques yawned, rolling his shoulders back before placing his yarn and needles to the side. Octavia tensed, but he didn't come near her. He stood, picked up a pail of water, and heaved it up.