Bloodline of a Tempest

Chapter 21

There was light – bright, blinding light moving in waves. The night sky was burning with melting stars, and the silence had descended upon Atria.

'Nema?'

She opened her eyes.

'Nema?'

Silvery leaves above her head were whispering using the voice of the wind. She sat up.

'Is this real?' She whispered.

Demian smiled. 'Unless I have followed you into the afterlife.'

There was something so comforting about that thought.

'Castor?' Nema asked.

'Gone.'

She looked about. She was lying under the silver elm, and on the hills around the Seren where Castor's army was waiting only this morning, there was nothing but traces of burned grass.

'Our men?' She asked. The fire-feeders were here. She had no idea hold long she spent fighting Castor on her plane. It could have been a day, and it could have been a century.

'We have to go back and see.'

'I don't want to,' she said.

Demian sat down next to her. 'What do you want, Nema?'

Nema gasped, grabbing his left arm. 'You are healed!'

Demian smiled, placing both hands on her face. 'What do you want, Nema, tell me.'



Turin Glaciers looked no different than they were when Lorn tried to sell her. Only this time they had no illusionist. So when Nema and Demian stepped onto their beach, the men started emerging from their huts, alarmed by the presence of intruders.

'What do you want?' A man asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

'I need a ship,' Nema said.

'Do you have money?' The smuggler's gaze was traveling from Dorian to Nema and back again. Seeing a fire-feeder and an Atrian together was a rare sight.

Nema pulled out a golden mask from her bag. 'What can I get for this?'

The man's face split into a wide grin. 'A sailing ship. The best one,' he promised, weighting the mask in his hand.

'How do you want to call it?' Demian asked as they stood at the helm of their new home.

'Silverstorm,' Nema flashed a smile.



The salty air was pleasant of her face as the ship was breaking through the waves.

'Why is your kind so afraid of water?' Nema grinned.

Demian looked up from the map. 'Where did you find this star chart?' He asked, impressed.

'I told you,' Nema grinned, 'the pirates have the best charts. Just remind me to buy another one when we reach a port. I owe someone.'

Demian gave her a curious look.

'When we were seven, I stole my friend's map. The mages gave him an epic beating. I gave a word to myself that I would buy him the best one in the word once I have my own ship.'

'Stealing?' Demian cocked his brow. 'At such a young age. Interesting.' He said.

Nema grinned. 'You are not a captain of the king's guard right now, Demian. Relax.' She grinned. 'You are a pirate now. We don't play by the rules.'

Somehow Nema knew that not following the rules would be particularly hard on Demian.

Demian laughed, leaning back over the map. 'We can take a turn at Windy Bay and go north.'

Nema nodded.

She was sitting next to him, breathing in the salty air and watching the sun setting behind the horizon. The sea was calm, and her soul was at peace.

'You could rule,' Demian said again. 'You know that.'

Nema nodded.

'You have the right of the blood. All seven words would accept you.'

Nema nodded.

'You are not even considering it, are you?'

Nema sighed. 'No one needs that much power,' she said. 'I want to use what was given to me to heal this world. I want to grow forests and bless the oceans and make this land blossom with magic. Let them play the politics. And I want,' she looked up to him, 'to grow old with you next to a forest of the elm trees.' She rested her head on his chest, and when his arms close around her, everything was right in the world.

'What do you want, Demian?' She whispered, a bit sleepy.

'I already have everything I need,' he pressed his lips to her hair, inhaling the scent of the Kindness flower.

For hundreds of years, after the dark armies of king Castor were defeated, people said they saw Silverstorm's ship sailing across Atria. Some of the fishermen swore they saw a real fire-feeder on Silverstorm's ship but no one ever believed them. 

Some things just can not be.

THE END