Darkness and Beauty (The Fated Series, #1)

Chapter 42 - Darius - Candy

My nightmares haven't come back, though I suppose with the Elysian Festival starting today, I should be more worried than relieved. Clarice and I walk through the gardens in hopes of running into Charles or Eleanor and attempting to get anything from their lips regarding their second lives, but they've been scarce. Turns out they're a lot more acquainted than we thought. Blight and Reynald check in with Arthur every night, and according to him, he thinks he's about to lose two Jades who keep finding themselves listening to Charles and Eleanor "letting sparks fly," as Blight described it. No further description is needed. I've scraped and scratched it from my mind to keep me sane.
Thankfully, Aracely finally got rid of her illness and came back yesterday. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather be stuck with Aracely rather than having to walk the castle grounds and hear the servants whispering about the two bald-headed love bird's most recent "excursion," hear the cockatoo's mating calls down the halls, or see what fresh hell they just walked out of and seem so eager to return to. I'm not the only one who has taken solitude with the nagging hag of a professor. If I've counted correctly, Clarice has read nearly two books during that time. I've only gotten halfway through one of them, and that was very...descriptive at certain points. Not that I'm complaining, it's just always so weird to think of Clarice reading those kinds of books.
We rush to my mother's chambers to avoid the odious rats after lessons, and then we stay there contenting ourselves with music or games or whatever conversation topic we somehow end up on. The only thing that has really changed now that Clarice and I have powers, is that we train with Ella both morning and night - Clarice is stubborn - while the others train with Arthur. It's only been two nights of him joining our late-night escapades, but I'd much rather feel the pain of the power coursing through me, than face Arthur's more aggressive tactics. Even Garrison said he misses Clarice's yelling and slaps with a wooden staff, and he hates her.
For the past few lessons, Ella had us trying to summon the elements. It took both of us five of the eight hours to finally do it without pain shooting through our arms. It hurt so much that both of us passed out, but we eventually got there.
"That hurts like a butt cheek on a stick," Clarice whined yesterday morning. I, myself was rubbing out the dull ache in my head I had come accustomed to. Ella said it was normal.
"You keep thinking the feeling of the power rising as pain, but it's not pain that the power causes."
"No, it just feels like I'm being pulled apart by my ankles and wrists."
"The only reason why it hurts is because you're resisting. Stop resisting, and it won't hurt."
It wasn't until I finally got a flame the size of my nail to light that I found she was right. When we make the elements that encase our arms go away, we're only blocking the energy of the power, and even then, summoning it hurts. Now, we're trying to not only summon it but to block and redirect the energy to a very small fixed point. It's a lot harder than it sounds, and ten times more difficult when you've done it once and go to do it again.
Now we use it as our warm-up, making the flame grow bigger, leaves spin faster or slower, and droplets multiply and then combine to form a perfect ball and change the colors of the flowers. Keeping the elements hidden has become second nature, but whenever I'm alone or even with The Bhaltayr and Clarice, I find myself calling the flame and wind and then sending it back. Clarice does it too, but we never use them near my mother. She gets anxious and then stressed and from the slap Siscilla gifted us, it's not good for the baby.
Even lying in bed on my back now, the morning sun and noise of preparations for the first day of the Elysian Festival echoing outside, I find myself playing with fire. Summoning still hurts, but it's not as painful. It's more like when your leg falls asleep and you go to stand up and it feels like ants are climbing all over it.
The idea of Clarice being a Queen is both suiting and scary at the same time. Heathens, I'm scared about myself being King. If things go sideways, I could be sitting on my father's throne in a matter of days. At least these powers will come in handy someday. That's what I keep telling myself, but progress is slow, and each failure weighs heavier on me and Clarice.
"What evil plans are you conjuring up today?"
I toss aside my thoughts as she stretches out like a starfish, waking from her deep sleep. She's been sleeping better. Her eyes aren't as dark, she doesn't move as much during the night, and there's definitely more energy in her come morning. Even with the extra training, we both wake up with energy we couldn't muster before. It's most likely the whole elemental body thing Siscilla still likes to prod at. Our cells regenerate themselves faster, apparently, yet our organs and body slow in their growth. I don't know what science says about that, but it puzzled her and confused everyone else, so I guess we'll find out.
Smirking at her tousled hair, I let the flame on my finger go out. "Oh you know, stuff like lighting your hair on fire and watching you struggle to summon nothing more than a few drops of water to put it out."
In response, I get a bucket full of water dropped on my face. I forgot she's gotten better at controlling the water element. It's earth she struggles with. Idiot.
"Good luck with that." I feel the bed shift and the floor squeak from her footsteps.
I was just joking, but now it's on.
With a wave of my hand, a gust of wind lifts her off her feet and pushes her up against the ceiling, right above me. Garrison and Mal run in at the sound of her cursing loudly and beautifully.
"For Saint's sake." Mal stares up at Clarice, Garrison smiling slightly. I still lay on the bed, looking at up her and her wild hair and wrinkled clothes. Up there she looks like a possessed demon.
Dare I say she looks...better?
"Put me down you asshole!"
"You want down?"
"No, I'd like to stay up here like a Gods dammed bat," she snaps sarcastically. "Get. Me. Down."
Smiling, I pull the energy back into me and she starts falling. Quicker than I've done before, I summon the air element again, stopping her inches from my face. "Still want down?" I ask sweetly.
Her face turns feral. It's blurry in some areas from the droplets still clinging to my lashes. I know she could blind me with them if she wanted to, but I don't wipe them away because I know it will annoy the shit out of her. "Prick."
"Yes, my lovely?"
"No. Prick." Her eyes look down toward my feet, and I find a vine around my ankle. Just as quickly as I dropped her, the vine grows small thorns that dig into my skin. Losing focus, Clarice comes falling down on top of me and we bonk foreheads.
"Ouch!"
"You started it!" She rolls off me and back on the bed.
"If you'll excuse me, I must go write to my family telling them that the world is doomed and we're all going to die." Both Clarice and I glare at the back of Mal's head. Garrison follows him out, leaving me and Clarice once again lying on the bed.
After throwing her around and her soaking me a few more times, we shook on a truce and went to eat breakfast. Kat choked on her drink when she saw us. I ringed out the bottom of my pants and filled two glasses with the water that spilled out of them, but I'm still soaked and my clothes are dripping everywhere. Not to mention that I have leaves and thorns all over me as well. All of which is entirely worth it because Clarice looks like she wrestled with a bear. Her hair pointing every which way, the bottom of her pants singed, and her shirt hung in shambles - which was probably horribly aimed on my part since her entire torso was practically visible. Some of the dresses she's worn before would peek at her stomach, and I'm fairly certain she somehow has more toned abs than she did before.
She did get complimented on her hair though. Turns out I'm just as good at styling Clarice's hair as Kat is, according to Thomas.
We eat breakfast and get ready for the day quickly. Clarice wants to walk around to monitor the preparations and staff, but I'm getting ready as fast as possible because I love the Elysian Festival. Correction, I love the spoils of the festival. The parties, the smiles, the colors...it's the best time of year.
It's the third day of the Festival that I dread the most. My pain of a father dislikes seeing me out and about during balls, so he forces me to sit on the throne atop the dais at his side and put on a smile. I can't talk to anyone unless they speak to him first, and even then it's all formality and no fun. Mother doesn't say a thing. She hates socializing with people who drink all night and speak with little sense to their words, or Court Nobles who only try to squeeze power out of others and take it for themselves. So I stay up all night enjoying the festivities of the first two days and die from boredom on my throne on the third. The only way I can leave the dais is if the daughter of a wealthy family asks me to dance. I fake the smile then too. I mean some aren't bad, they're actually really sweet, but as I said before, they're all so focused on impressing me and the formality that I never see who they really are. Hard to like someone when they're lying right to your face.
Hyper and in need of some color in my life, I snatch Clarice's hand just as Kat finishes with her hair and start running out the door.
"Darius, slow down. It's hard to run in a dress." I ignore her pleas and don't release her hand as she tries to gather her skirts. I've seen her run with thicker fabric around her legs, she'll be fine.
Garrison already knew what was coming and sent them all to be stationed through the halls and keep everyone out of the way as we come barreling down them. She can memorize faces while I have my fun.
Turning down the archway that leads to the outer garden, I already spot the last ribbons and decorations being laid out on the grass. Preparations have been in full swing for the past cycle. Now it's all coming together as the sun is rising to its peak, with not a cloud in sight to ruin the day. Baskets full of all kinds of candy and pastries are being loaded onto tables covered in bright colors and detailed designs. Smiling wider, I take a step toward my favorite cream-filled chocolates, only to be stopped by a hand on my chest.
"Lana," I cheer, recognizing the flour-covered hands.
"Don't Lana me," she scoffs in her soft accent. Her silver-streaked red hair stands on ends, pieces of it falling from the bun atop her head. Her caramel-colored eyes would look like candy too if they weren't slit and narrowed at me. She and I have quite a history, mainly during the Elysian Festival. She's old and scrawny but tough as a diamond. It's like running into a haystack thinking it'd be fun, only to get poked in the eyes with it instead.
I smile at her sweetly even though I know she sees right through it. "I see another year has been kind to you."
"Don't try and change the subject. I saw how fast you ran down here, and I know exactly what you're after."
"Lana-" I slap my hand to my chest, "-I'm hurt you think me a child still."
"Touch that candy, boy, and I'll have words with your mother," she warns strongly.
"Alright. No candy." I put my hands up in surrender.
"I mean it!"
"As do I."
She looks at me like she doesn't believe a single word coming out of my mouth. Her mouth opens to give me another warning, but her eyes catch onto something behind me, and she's officially distracted. "You there!" she yells at a man carrying a basket of powdered bread. "What do you think you're doing? I don't care what my blasted nitwit brother said, those go on the western wall along with the rest of the bread pastries." She walks off, yelling at more people to do this and do that, and "No, those don't go there!"
"We're stealing the candy, right?" I'm going to be honest, I forgot Clarice was here for a second.
"Yep."
I pull out a brown bag I stuffed into my pocket earlier and look at the baskets and baskets of delicious looking sweets. Laughing evilly, Clarice snatches the bag from my hand and with a glance back to Lana who's still yelling and running about, takes off toward the tables. Following her lead, she walks to the back of the tables pretending to admire the smell of the candy, and then when no one's looking, scoops up the sweets into the bag.
"Hurry," I whisper keeping an eye on the Hell Hound.
"Shhh."
A few servants walking by notice our poorly carried out scheme, but say nothing. A few even smile and shake their heads as Clarice stuffs a few in her mouth. I've already got five chocolates staining my teeth and caramel stuck to the roof of my mouth.
"Okay, let's go," she says through her mouthful.
We walk back around the tables, careful to keep the bag out of Lana's line of sight just in case she looks over her shoulder. I spot Alister peeking around the corner eyeing the bag in Clarice's hands. We're almost to him when a frustrated screech and some strong words surrounding my name, sound behind us.
"Run!"
We race down the grass, dodging servants and bakers and a few guard dogs who bark as we pass. Clarice's laugh sounds somewhere near me, but I don't check to see if Lana followed. Gods know that woman is scary when you piss her off.
I always loved this part as a child. It wasn't the act of sneaking below the tables and reaching over the edge to grab a handful of candy, but the running away part that made it fun. The Bhaltayr and I would always come up with crazy plans to get around Lana and steal a basket of her handmade and most delicious candies ever made. We actually did steal an entire basket one time, but mother caught us red-handed and had us run around the castle for every piece we consumed. The basket was empty when she found us, so you could imagine just how much we ate. Even as we got older and responsibility was put atop our shoulders, we always made time to do crazy stuff like this.
Turning and grabbing Clarice's hand again, I pull her into another archway, and we run back to my tower where my friends await anxiously.