Page 6 of Essence of the Throne

Despite the eeriness, there’s something comforting about this place. The way each shelf seems to embrace me, offering me safetyamongst the ancient wisdom. The heavy scent of aged literature that is an intrinsic part of the atmosphere and reminds me of a certain prince.

It takes me a few moments as I consider my comfortability in this space before I realize why it feels so natural to be here—it reminds me of home.

I do not possess the capacity to think further about it, and I quickly shove at the thoughts before they hold hostage my mind.

They’re too much.

I pause my steps when a slight tremor radiates through my feet. I curse before dropping everything in my hands and spinning to reach Caspian before the shaking intensifies. It’s relieving to find him just behind me. The panic in his eyes as he reaches for me stings, but I do not have time to acknowledge his feelings. I snatch the front of his shirt and yank him into me as the vibrations in the ground become so loud I can no longer hear my own thoughts. I chuckle when Caspian bends me so that his body covers my head.

He can be sweet sometimes.

I don’t resist him, needing to concentrate on my essence. I reach with my inner awareness to the surrounding environment and tug on my aero strand, but lose control when the prince and I fall to our knees from the violent quaking. I try once more with a frantic urgency that is never useful in these situations, successfully crushing the air above us together until it forms an impenetrable barrier. I’d feel far more comfortable weaving my umbral strand for this, but I will not risk Gavriel seeing that essence.

My arms tighten around the prince’s stiff body. I release a thin breath when the first objects reach us, thudding against my barrier before sliding to crash into the ground. Caspian winces at the sounds, lifting his head before his chest bounces under mine.

“You’re incredible,” he says with enough force that I can make out his words. If he’s expecting a response, he will be disappointed. I’m too focused on maintaining my essence to have attention for much else.

I have practiced with most of my strands for years, but never to such a degree. My shadows are the only essence I have held for long periods of time and used to ward against things. My aero strand? Never had I considered needing to use it in such a manner, so I find my body trembling after just a few minutes.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Caspian whispers in my ear, likely thinking I’m shaking from fear.

Maybe I am.

I’ve never struggled with my essence like this before. It’s pathetic.

The prince’s hold does not waver as the ground sways in various directions, feeling as thought it's throwing us from one side of the library to the other. Too many objects continue to slam into my barrier—a vexation of the highest degree.

If this lasts much longer, my grip on my aero strand may falter…but I would first drain the entirety of my essence, emptying my body of its life source, before allowing thisweakening Accordto claim Caspian’s life.

Because that’s all this is. It must be. This is the second time the ground has shaken this week, but if I consider all the strange weather over the last few months…it is too coincidental to be anything but the Accord. I’ve yet to discern just what it means and how it is affected by a sort of balance, though I have no doubt that this incessant fucking quaking is connected.

It feels as if I’ve aged years by the time the ground levels out and the tremors slow to nothing once more. “Fuck’s sake,finally,” I mumble as I push from Caspian and stand on wobbling legs.

The library looks just as dreadful as I’d expected. Books cover the floor as far as I can see, along with chairs and tables that are far from their normal resting places. A few taller plants lay strewn across the ground, their soil smeared over open pages and previously clean tile. I look over my shoulder at a loud pattering to find one of the windows cracked, with a large piece missing. Chilled rain and wind welcome themselves into the space, ruining decades-old texts and wooden furniture.

My eyes scan the prince before focusing on an object under the broken window. I walk toward it, ignoring Gavriel when he scoffs from my lack of awareness of what I am stepping on.

I’m aware—I just don’t fucking care.

He scoots from under a table as I walk by, mumbling something to himself about how I’m the worst kind of human. It’s too easy to ignore his taunts, especially when a large wooden object is laying propped against a shelf—none of which seem to have fallen. They must be fused to the tile in some manner.

My steps halt me just beside the aged wood, twice my height if I’m seeing correctly. There’s a salty air surrounding it, and the grooves along it seem almost mushy. Disgusting.

This is certainly what came through the window, as shards of glass surround the immediate area. Against every rational instinct I have, I press against the wood, testing its weight.

Curious.

Something I couldn’t lift without aid had managed to fly several stories up at such a rate that it smashed through a window…when the ground was shaking. I cannot make sense of the logic, but I’m far too tired to think about it any longer. I used more essence than I’ll ever admit holding that barrier up. I need to train my stamina.

After I sleep.

My chin remains high as I walk back through the library, grabbing the prince’s hand and pulling him from whatever he and Gavriel were discussing.

“Excuse you, I was talking with my guard.” He sounds just as frustrated as I am.

“Is that so?” He exhales, the noise loud. “Because, as I recall, I’m your guard.”

“I’m not in the mood for this, Ariella,” he mutters as he pulls his hand from mine, though he continues to walk next to me.

---