The Princess of Terrasen

Ch 19

Aiyra's vision was swimming. She had opened her eyes a mere minute ago and found the room in complete darkness. Though from what she could tell, it wasn't so much of a room as it was a random patch of marble in a sea of rubble. Breathing heavily, she forced herself into a sitting position, glancing down at herself.

Someone had put a cloak over her, so she pulled it off, hissing when she saw her wounds still hadn't healed.

She put a finger over one of the deep gashes in her leg and channeled her fire to heal it. What came out instead of golden flames were black ones that danced across her skin, unable to heal. Instead, they made her leg start bleeding more than it already was. She didn't want to risk trying to heal the one on her neck either, lest it start bleeding more profusely.

She was about to get up and search for a needle and thread, but then she realised there was nothing left. Everything else had been decimated.

"Aecis, Salkhi," she tried to say it loudly, but her voice was hoarse enough that it came out as a whisper

"Aiyra?" someone asked from behind her "Gav, Elio, she's awake."

She looked behind her and found Cerin standing there, expression unreadable. They stared at each other in silence, then Cerin's gaze fell to her heavily bleeding leg and he swore softly, crouching next to her. He traced a line of golden fire over both the cuts and in seconds, they knitted themselves back together. Then he did the one at her neck, the smaller cuts, and the bruises springing up all over her body.

"Don't heal the scars." she said, as they started disappearing into her skin as well.

He looked straight at her once more, his turquoise eyes giving away nothing. Then he nodded as Elio and Gavriel entered.

Elio stood by the edge of the patch of marble, unsure of what to do with himself, but Gavriel approached, his words were hoarse, but they contained an inexplicable amount of hope that made her want to strangle him. Hope was, in the end, nothing but a beautiful lie.

"Aiyra?" he said, eyes searching her face. She didn't respond, her mouth refused to open, her tongue felt heavy as lead.

Cerin shook his head, his knees popped as he stood up.

"We need to get back to Terrasen." he said dryly

"Aren't you coming?" Gavriel cocked his head

Aiyra said nothing.

"She'll follow when she's ready." Cerin snapped, grabbing Gavriel's arm and pulling him up.

Elio looked as though he would protest, but when he caught sight of Aiyra's face, he nodded and they all shifted in flashes of light brighter than lightning.

Aiyra slung the cloak over herself once more, and waited until they were out of sight till she shifted. She couldn't.

Frowning, she tried again. It didn't work. She couldn't. A strange sort of panic seized her, but in the end, did it really matter? And just like that, she no longer felt the panic. Nothing really mattered that much, nothing mattered enough that she panic about it. It was just another bit of magic. She clutched her cloak around her tighter and stood up, walking into the ashes.

They fluttered around her feet as she walked through the remains of a kingdom she had once protected so fiercely. There had been a fountain in front of the palace, all that remained was the white arm of it's marble statue. Melted iron was pouring out of the most famous forge in the entire world. Beyond it, there was a single wall that had survived their battle. It had been the finest clothing store in the city. Aiyra half expected Kamien to come out of it, eyes lit up in excitement, arms full of bags.

But she was dead.

Aiyra's throat closed. She had never been afraid of death, it had never been something to fear, but to cherish. In the end everything died. There was no point in fearing it. Fear was produced from thoughts, and Aiyra never cared enough about death to think about it. Well, Aella hadn't.

Aiyra had been created from death.

On the other side of the wall, there was a simple shirt, meant to be worn under dresses made from a thin material and Aiyra tugged it on, moving a few larger pieces of rubble in search of anything else that might have survived and found a pair of pants, with a large hole on the left calf, but she didn't really care. Pulling it on quickly, she moved out, walking through the city where she had known every corner, every street where the crooks would sell their wares and she didn't recognise it. How had she never noticed the blackness?The black ocean waves, the black diamond towers, the black castle of glass and blood and lies.

Terrasen was green. A part of her wondered if she was too tainted to step into such a beautiful land. She wondered if she would lead it to destruction the way she did the Northern Continent.

But she had to keep moving. Otherwise she would stop and collapse.

Kamien and Waylay and Jaena and Sebastian. Sebastian and Jaena and Waylay and Kamien. Her cadre, her family.

Waylay, with her slow smiles and deep laugh and crossed arms, a sparkle in her eye whenever she would look at Jaena, or a child running in the streets and giggling. Waylay, who understood her better than most people ever would.

Jaena, who had not known Aella all too well, but who loved her anyway. Jaena, with her hysterical laughs, and dark eyes and cocoa skin, who was free in the way that all broken things were.

Kamien, who had citrine eyes, and broken dreams, who had given up on her own life and devoted it to protecting those she cared for, whose laugh was wild, who would dance on the roof in the rain because it was untameable.

Sebastian, with his dry humour and cold eyes that never really thawed completely-even when he smiled- with his snarls and his snorts and a wicked, dark laugh that excited Aella's soul. Who had chipped nails, and chapped lips, and liked to climb into hidden alcoves and crannies because it helped him think.

All of them dead. Because of her.

Sebastian and Kamien and Jaena and Waylay. Waylay and Jaena and Kamien and Sebastian.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

She jumped off the cliff she had reached, straight into the black ocean. It froze underneath her feet. She walked across the ocean, heading to the west. To the Western Continent, where Adarlan and Terrasen lay.

They were dead. But she wasn't. And she could sense them near her. Standing by her, even in death. They were strangely silent, they weren't even really here, but it gave Aiyra's trembling knees enough to strength to move forward.

Terrasen awaited.

Her new kingdom awaited.

A/N:- this is short af, but I'm really busy with school and football etc so I'll try and publish the next (hopefully longer) chapter over the next weekend. And thank you to everyone who's been voting and adding this to their libraries it was the literal fucking highlight of my weekend. ❤️