Page 46 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

“Adding in a more accurate note,” Gideon corrected. “The Spirit Witch will most likely tell futures and fortunes; you can even find them here in the market. They are popular down here with the tourism and can make a quick coin. It has been said that a powerful Spirit Witch can resurrect the dead,”—he flung a glare towards Torin—“but as usual, my brother likes to get carried away with himself.” Gideon flashed another mocking smile.

Emara searched for Cally to see her reaction to the learnings, but she was heavily distracted by everything the markets had to offer and Emara was sure she had heard absolutely nothing of her new revelations about the magic world. She pulled her eyes from Cally who had just picked up a book titled Sex Potions. Emara was fairly certain that Cally thought the title was Sex Positions and was flicking through the pages. But she didn’t interrupt; she would soon work it out.

“Most witches have little beacons of each elemental power, but they have a dominant element.” Gideon continued. “That is how they are divided into each coven. Some are born into the coven and bear that coven’s magical element, but some don’t. Witches are discarded from their elemental house for showing dominant signs of another house.” He turned to her. “For example, if you were born into the House of Fire and you had dominant healing powers over fire-bearing, you would probably be forced to leave the coven and join the House of Earth. They see it as a weakness. Sometimes as a disgrace. But the witches don’t like their internal affairs to be known out with their kind.”

“Their family just rejects them?” Emara was stunned. “Because one element is stronger than the other?”

“Yes, it doesn’t serve their house purpose. They can be competitive.” He walked a little closer to her. “Witches are strongest when they are around other witches with the same elemental strain as them. That’s why there are always rising tensions among the covens. There is a head of each coven, their empress. They call the shots within each house and most witches want to become the empress. But it normally comes from the bloodline. And that’s not to forget the almighty witch. The queen of the witches is the supreme. She’s a member of the prime. Just like our chief commander.”

“Rumour has it that the witches believe that the current supreme is dying,” Torin casually cut in. He seemed bored of the topic now that they had moved into politics and not the aesthetic of the witches. “And that the new Supreme Witch is emerging. But it’s probably just a rumour. The current one isn’t old enough. Normally a new one arises every four decades or so. Maybe Five.”

“As the new supreme rises, the current supreme falls—it’s very poetic.” Gideon’s passion on the topic was splattered across his face. “It is predicted by the House of Spirit. The new supreme will arise soon and it has them all on edge.”

“I bet my favourite throwing knives that the House of Fire takes the supreme title again,” Torin challenged Gideon. “They have the most Supremes in history to come from any House.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Tor—I think the House of Air could take this win; they have some strong contenders up in the mountains of the north. And they had the title before the House of Fire took it.” Gideon’s eyes focused on Torin’s. “They need the win. Their reign was cut short due to illness of their supreme, leaving Fire to take the crown.”

“Wow!” Emara laughed. “I can’t believe how human you just made me feel.” She rubbed her arm close to where her bandage still rested against her skin, a little pain forming. It was still weaker than before, but Rhea had done an amazing job in healing her.

Gideon chuckled. “It’s going to take some time to get used to all of this. You’ll get the hang of it.” Gideon stopped, bringing Emara to a halt too. “You are in our world now.”

A ghost wind blew through the gap where they both stood looking at each other.

“Ah, there she is,” Torin sighed in pleasure.

Emara followed his gaze to a tavern that was named in blue: La Luna.

“Oh, a tavern. This is promising.” Cally’s attention finally returned to the group. “Please tell me they sell shots of hard liquor.”

“Would you expect me to bring you to a tavern that didn’t?” With a grin on his face, Torin entered through the door of La Luna.

As they made their way through the packed tavern, Emara noticed that its interior didn’t match the exterior. The outside looked rundown and neglected, but the inside was the complete opposite. Beams of coloured tubes glowed around the bar, changing colour to the pulsing beat of the music—a sound she had never heard before. It had to be some form of magical enchantment. The floor twinkled underneath her feet, changing from white stars to black. The walls were coated in purple and gold panels and flashing tubes above turned everyone’s skin into a tanned violet, illuminating their teeth brilliant white. Emara could feel the magic pressing against her skin, her ears, her face. In regard to what kind of magic it was, she had no idea. It just felt…exhilarating.

Figures on the dance floor writhed against one another, glistening with sweat. Their bodies relaxed as they connected with each other through the height of intoxication and rhythm. Cally was like a kid in a candy store, her eyes wide as she took in the sights.

Torin led the group to the bar area, pushing his way through the crowd like he owned the place. Or maybe the crowd parted for him.

“Breighly, my favourite girl,” Torin greeted the barmaid with his charmingly warm smile. As she noticed him approach, her smile grew. She was beautifully dark blonde with glitter through her middle part, which trickled down her bouncy locks, sitting above her shoulders. Her fingernails were long and red, matching her lips.

“There he is,” she shouted over the music, her eyes flirting with his smile. She was already pouring a drink into a crystal glass for him. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, Torin Blacksteel. Hey, Gid.” She tossed a glance at Gideon, who hadn’t yet approached the bar. “Long time no see.”

Gideon smiled and nodded.

“You know how I like it.” Torin lowered his torso against the bar, his muscled back bulging under his tight, black shirt and watched the drinks being poured.

Gideon gave a quick wave to Breighly and shouted over the music to Emara, “I will get us a table.” Cally was already dancing, her hips swaying from side to side watching the dance floor, eager to be amid it all. She seemed enticed by the gorgeous men that littered around the bar, quickly forgetting Torin existed. Clearly magic ran through their veins too; you didn’t look like that if it didn’t.

Fae or shifter? Emara thought.

“Emara,” Torin’s voice broke over the music. She closed the distance between them to hear. “What do you want to drink?” His eyes focused on her face, trying to read her lips.

So many to choose from…

“I will surprise you,” he shouted, his mouth twisting into a dangerous smile.

“Nothing too strong,” she shouted over the music, waving her hands.

“You want something strong?” His face was so close to her ear that as she pulled back, their cheeks brushed. She didn’t try to hear him again as she hurried to divide the space between them, looking up at the drink menu for the second time.

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