Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Exhausted to the brim, Shia’s body collapsed to the floor. She closed her eyes as she tried to regain her strength. She needed to focus. She needed to keep her wits with her and focus.

“You can’t lose consciousness now. We haven’t even covered half of what you should be learning.” Mage Silas – or Galahad - sighed.

“I-I know. I won’t lose focus,” Shia said, picking her heavy body up from the ground, standing up again in her trembling, wobbling feet. She was wearing clothes that resembled her garments back in the desserts of Soccora where she had spent most of her childhood. She liked the thick but light fabric that covered only the upper half of body, exposing her waist, but on the lower part, she donned riding pants, similar to what Lady Khailis used to wear when she fulfilled her functions as part of the Imperial Guards.

Her dress was part of her preparation for her new lessons – magic lessons with Mage Silas and sword fighting lessons with Prince Danterion. They were odd choices for teachers since they both bear such close relationships with Freya, but Shia was desperate and in dire need of help. She had no time to be picky or to ask help from someone else. She had to find a way to save Langrion and Khailis fast.

“We will travel back to the Capitol tomorrow at noontime. You will ride with me in the carriage, won’t you, love?” the detestable old king told her the other night during dinner.

He kissed her hand as he said this, and the hair at Shia’s neck stood up in revolt. She imagined that she flicked the old fart’s forehead with all her strength instead, and it made her feel a little satisfied.

“I had accepted your proposal. Now, you have to release them as promised,” Shia exclaimed. She didn’t believe he really would fulfil his end of the bargain, but she needed to try. She needed to try and try for the sake of those she loved...

“Hmm, I would release the lady after a day if you would ride with me in the carriage going back to our home.”

“And if I won’t?”

“Then, there’s no bargain.”

“Alright, I will ride the carriage with you, but just for tomorrow.”

“And the tent, you will share it with me right, love?”

“I absolutely wouldn’t!” Shia said, her whole body quivering in blood-boiling rage against the pervert king. She had unconsciously stood up from her seat, her hands clutching a bread knife in a very threatening manner that the knights stationed around them at the dining hall shifted uneasily.

“Very well. I shall happily wait for you until our wedding night then. I definitely can’t wait to hear your screams of delight!”

These bits of conversation kept Shia awake throughout the night. They were very potent in keeping her heart burning with the desire to learn magic and become even skilled at sword fighting despite the tremendous struggles she had to face.

As such, before sunrise the next day, she was already up and about. She called the mage and began her training immediately.

The two of them stayed at a void. Mage Silas – Galahad, as she more comfortably called him – can stretch time if he could; that was part of his god powers. He had granted her request to stretch the ten minutes that she had into a full day so that she could master the power of light immediately.

“There are different kinds of god powers, but all of them fall into the same basic categories. They can either be creative, transformative – illusive, perceptive, and destructive. Once you have mastered a basic or core power, you can tweak it a little and cross over to the other types of powers, but of course, the basic power would remain stronger and more potent than a cross over one. For instance, my power is time-bending or time reversals, which falls under the transformative-illusive type. If you become strong enough in wielding the power of light, you can also use it to bend time; however, when it comes to quality, mine is and will always be more superior to yours,” Galahad began.

“So what kind of power does Freya have?”

“Your power is that of the light; it falls under creative.”

“Then, if I can master it, I can turn it into transformative-illusive; I can create decoys?”

“Yes, but mastering powers take several lifetimes.”

“But Freya had already lived a thousand ones. She would have already mastered that skill by this time...”

“Of course, but that is Freya. You are Shia, and that makes all the difference...”

“Ah, I get what you mean... Then, I need to awaken her, right?”

“I’m not sure. It’s totally up to you.”

“I want to awaken her, but I don’t know how.”

“Like I said, that’s totally up to you, child...”

The mage made her create a hundred balls of lights that were of the same intensity, size, and shape and instructed her to suspend them in the air and make sure that they remain suspended for a full day. It started easy enough that Shia was able to make twenty without much effort.

As she increased it to fifty, Shia suddenly started to feel very, very tired. The balls of lights were taking away her energy physically and mentally. She was having difficulty focusing on her task.

At about the seventieth ball of light, some of the lights she previously made came crashing down to the ground.

“Begin again. You must complete a hundred balls of light,” Galahad said.

Shia began again, and again, and again. She would always fail at seventy. She passed the barrier once, but at the eighty first, they all came down crashing again. She fell down to the floor too.

“Shia, can you hear me? Shia?...” Galahad called to her.

Shia painfully remembered the last time she heard Langrion’s voice.

“I love you! Be well!”

Tears rolled down her cheek. She remembered the scene further where Khailis had spoken a lie amongst everyone that she was a cursed one. She did it in spite of the danger that loomed before her.

“I... I can do it..,” Shia said. Tired as she was, she got up and began again.

After eons of trying, she failed and failed yet again. She was about to start once more time, but the mage waived his hand in the air.

“We’ll end here today.”

“No... I haven’t succeeded yet!”

“I know, but you may die from exhaustion at this rate. The day is over. Sleep some more. Call me again when you have time, child.”

He brought her back to her bedroom at the Littman Manor and disappeared without saying goodbye. Shia curled up in the middle of the floor, feeling wretched that she did not succeed.

But her day wasn’t over yet. Soon, she will leave this place with the king she loathed. The servants began to knock on her door. It was time for her bath, and she conceded.

At noontime, Shia came immediately via carriage in front of the Rubiyah Manor where the final rendezvous would be. The king grinned widely as she stepped down from her carriage. He reached for her hand gracefully and kissed it.

“Are you ready for our first ride together, love?” he said in a high-pitched and annoying voice that Shia would have liked it immensely if she could leave the owner burning away in a pit somewhere.

“Where’s your promise?” Shia said, referring to Khailis’ apparent release.

“Ah, here, hold on to this.” He placed the key of a metal hand cuff in Shia’s palm. “You’ll have use for it later.”

Shia clutched it fervently against her hand. She was too tired to tolerate the king’s tricks if he had any in his sleeves, but at the mere sight of the key, she felt like she can live through another afternoon with the hope in her heart that she’ll be able to see Khailis soon.

The king stepped inside the carriage first, and then he extended his hand towards her. “Ready, my love?”

Shia took his hands and sighed deeply. ‘It’s just one afternoon ride,’ she told herself, ‘I can do this...’

For the first two hours of the ride, the old man did not do or attempt to do anything funny towards Shia. He just sat there, his eyes looking outside the window. However, Shia was on guard the whole time. She did not try to even blink nor breathe easily lest she finds herself in any disadvantage.

Two hours was a long time though, and given her rough training with Galahad that morning, Shia found herself nodding off to sleep. Soon, she started to doze off.

It must have been a bump in the road that had awaken her, but as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw the detestable hand of his majesty intertwined with hers.

“Ah, I didn’t wake you up because you looked so tired. You should sleep some more,” he rested her head against his shoulder, and Shia’s body trembled with so much revulsion that she wanted to vomit.

She snatched her hand away against his and began to speak, “Your grace, do you know what sort of power I am capable of?”

His eyes started to open up so widely that Shia thought they would pop out of his scrawny head.

“I can make plants appear at will.”

Shia started to feel for the dirt that clung against the wheels of the carriage, and she called forth vines to appear between him and his majesty.

He looked at her, utterly speechless.

“I suppose we shouldn’t keep secrets this big against each other, right, since we’ll be wedded soon? Consider this as your warning then: try to touch me again, and your hands will writhe in pain from these poison ivies.”

Almost immediately, her head throbbed, and it became harder to breathe. The guiding stones that the knights carried around must be affecting her, but she did not care. She’d rather pass away in the carriage than take his hand into her palms again.

“If that is the case, can I ask you for a favour?” the king said from across the clumps of poison ivies that separated them. “Can you make silver roses bloom in here? I kind of missed seeing them. It’s been a long time...”

Shia blinked back towards him. His wish was quite harmless. She flourished her hands upward, and almost immediately, a stalk of silver rose began to grow at his side of the carriage. It grew and grew until one, two, and finally, three flowers sprung forth from it.

“Ah, this reminds me of the old days,” the king said. He brought one of the blooms closer to his nose and smelled it.

Then without warning, King Caldwell began to cry.

Shia was left dumbfounded. She didn’t expect that someone as despicable as him could sob like a baby.

“Do you know why I chose you to be my wife?” the king said as he wiped a tear from his eye. It was a sight to behold, and it felt surreal to Shia.

“I do. It’s because of my grandmother, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You looked just like her... But you are not her,” he said. He placed his hand over his mouth as if trying to stop the tears from streaming down his face further.

“You are right, sire... I am not her. I can never be her... I can always pretend, but I would never be exactly like her.”

“I know... I know that,” he said. He continued to gaze back at the window, clutching the single rose he plucked from the plant Shia had produced. After sometime, he spoke to her again.

“You can take this away now. I’ll have you transferred to another carriage. You can stay there with Lady Khailis...”

Shia whisked her hand in the air, speechless at what he had just said, observing the king intensely if he would fulfil his promise.

As soon as the plants vanished, he called the procession to a halt, and he opened the door for her.

“I kept this promise; now you must keep yours,” he muttered as she descended.