In a divided kingdom where magic is feared and those who wield it are hunted, Ariana, the daughter of a powerful councilman, lives a life of privilege and duty. But her world unravels when she encounters Kiran, a fugitive with the power to command...
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The field stretched endlessly before us, a sea of golden grass rippling in the wind under the pale blue sky. It was beautiful in its simplicity, but to me, it felt like a trap. The openness, the exposure—it was the worst place to be when you were being hunted.
Roran walked a few steps ahead, his tense movements betraying his frustration. He hadn’t stopped pacing since we got here, scanning the horizon like he expected an ambush at any moment.
“We shouldn’t have come here,” he muttered, his voice sharp as he turned to glare at me.
I crossed my arms, trying to hide the unease bubbling in my chest. “You’re the one who said we needed somewhere quiet to talk. No walls, no ears. Well, here we are. Quiet enough for you?”
“Too quiet,” he snapped. “This place is wide open, Kiran. If someone’s looking for us, they’ll see us before we see them.”
I bit back a retort, knowing he wasn’t wrong. The field felt too exposed, too vulnerable. But we couldn’t go back to the village, not after what had happened last night. The Council’s reach was long, and its agents were relentless.
Roran stopped abruptly, his hand going to the knife at his belt. His gaze fixed on something beyond me, his entire body going rigid.
“Don’t move,” he said, his voice a low whisper.
My heart skipped a beat. I turned slowly, following his line of sight. At first, I saw nothing but grass and trees in the distance. Then I spotted him—a figure moving steadily toward us, his dark armor glinting in the fading light. He was no ordinary traveler. His movements were precise, calculated. The way his hand hovered near the hilt of his sword made it clear he was a hunter, and we were his prey.
My stomach dropped.
“We need to go,” I whispered, reaching for Roran’s arm.
“No,” he said, shaking me off. “If we run, he’ll see us.”
“And if we stay, he’ll find us!” I hissed.
Roran crouched low, pulling me down with him into the tall grass. “Stay quiet,” he murmured.
The tracker moved closer, his sharp eyes scanning the field with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. My pulse thundered in my ears, each beat louder than the last. He couldn’t find us. If he did, there’d be no mercy, no escape.
Roran’s grip tightened on his knife. “If he gets too close, we’ll take him out,” he said under his breath.
I grabbed his wrist. “No. We can’t risk a fight.”
“What other choice do we have?” he shot back, his voice low but urgent.
“I have an idea,” I said, though even as I said it, doubt clawed at me. The memory of my magic was still fresh, but it felt distant, slippery. Could I summon it again, now, when I needed it most?
Roran’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Just… trust me,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed in myself.
Before he could argue, I closed my eyes and reached for the strange power that had come to me before. The memory of it was vivid—like the world bending, folding in on itself until I no longer existed within it. I focused on that feeling, willing it to come back, to envelop not just me but Roran as well.
“Don’t move,” I whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The tracker was close now, close enough that I could see the faint scars etched across his face, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through the grass. My breath caught as I felt the shift—the air rippling around us, the weight of the world pressing against my skin before pulling away entirely.
The tracker stopped in his tracks, his head tilting as he scanned the field. He looked directly at us—or through us. His brows furrowed, and his hand drifted to his sword, but he didn’t draw it.
Roran tensed beside me, his muscles coiled like a spring. I squeezed his shoulder, silently begging him to stay still.
The tracker muttered something under his breath and turned away, his frustration evident in the sharpness of his movements. He took a few slow steps, then paused, glancing back over his shoulder. My heart nearly stopped, but he didn’t linger. After a moment, he stalked off, disappearing into the woods on the far side of the field.
I held the magic for a few seconds longer, the strain of it like a weight pressing down on my chest. When I finally let it go, the world snapped back into focus. The grass rustled in the breeze, the distant call of a bird broke the silence, and the weight in my chest eased.
Roran turned to me, his face pale but his eyes blazing with questions. “What the *hells* just happened?”
I hesitated, my pulse still racing. “He didn’t see us,” I said, my voice shaky.
“I know that,” Roran said, his tone sharp. “But why? He was looking right at us, Kiran. He was *close enough to touch*. What did you do?”
I swallowed hard, knowing there was no point in lying. “I… I made us invisible. Sort of.”
“Invisible?” He stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Since when can you do that?”
“I didn’t know I could until recently,” I admitted. “It just started happening.”
Roran shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “That wasn’t just disappearing, Kiran. He looked right through us, like we weren’t even there. That’s not normal magic. That’s…”
“Something else,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.
Roran didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at me, his expression shifting from disbelief to something harder to read. Finally, he said, “Does anyone else know about this?”
I hesitated, my mind flashing to Ariana. But I couldn’t tell him about her, not yet. “No,” I lied, my voice steady. “No one.”
His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he nodded. “Good. Keep it that way. If the Council finds out…”
“I know,” I said quickly, the weight of his words pressing down on me.
“They won’t tolerate this,” he continued, his voice grim. “Magic they don’t understand is magic they destroy.”
I nodded, the fear that had been simmering in my chest now boiling over. The Council wouldn’t just see me as a threat—they’d see me as a weapon to be controlled or a danger to be eliminated.
“We need to move,” Roran said, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “If he’s out here, there might be others.”
I followed him as we made our way toward the cover of the trees, every step feeling heavier than the last. My mind raced, replaying the scene over and over again. The tracker’s searching gaze, the way the magic had surged through me, the sheer power of it—it was more than I’d ever imagined myself capable of.
Roran glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “Whatever this is, Kiran, you need to learn how to control it. Because right now? It’s the only thing keeping us alive.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The truth was, I didn’t know if I *could* control it. It wasn’t like casting a spell or following a formula—it was something raw, instinctive, and terrifyingly unpredictable.
As we reached the edge of the forest, I glanced back at the field one last time. The tracker was gone, but the memory of his presence lingered like a shadow.
I clenched my fists, determination hardening in my chest. If this magic was going to keep me alive, I had to understand it. I had to master it.
Because if I didn’t, it wouldn’t just be the Council I had to fear. It would be myself.
