Page 39 of The Ninth Element

Gods, he’s charming. I’m realizing his charm is less a fleeting impression and more like an undeniable, ever-present truth. His good looks aren’t the kind that stops conversations, like Zanyar’s intimidating aura or Bahador’s captivating presence. No, Darian’s attractiveness is something else entirely. It is the kind that draws you in, making you want to lean closer and listen to every word. It is approachable, inviting, like a crackling fireplace on a snowy night.

He has the air of a natural leader, a man other men would willinglyfollow, not out of fear but out of respect and admiration. But it isn’t just his lopsided smile or the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. It is something more, something that resonates deep within me, a warmth that spreads through me like an ember. And the more time I spend around him, the more my awareness of his appeal solidifies.

I wonder how he would be with women. I imagine that he would be a slow burn, a captivating addiction, the kind that whispers its way into their veins until it owns them, leaving them wanting more, but ensuring that he remains just beyond their definitive grasp. I can see it so clearly with him.

I cough to steady my composure. “Uh, um… Just not much practice, that’s all.”

“Not much socializing in Firelands, then?”

His gaze never leaves me, and I resist the urge to squirm under the weight of those dark blue eyes. “Not much that I was included in.”

“Is that an Ahira specialty, or was it just you?” he probes gently.

My eyes drop to the floor, my fingers fidgeting with the flagon in my hand. “There were not a lot of girls in Fire Temple. And fraternizing with boys was discouraged. Only two girls were my age, but… they weren’t exactly welcoming.”

A wave of self-consciousness passes through me, and I suddenly feel very awkward and uncomfortable sharing how unliked I was with this man.

“Why not?” he asks, even gentler this time.

I risk a glance at him, and I’m met with a kind smile that somehow manages to be both reassuring and flustering. My heart does a weird dance in my chest, and I quickly avert my eyes. I can feel my eyebrows furrowing, but words tumble out, unbidden. “Firelands prides itself on spotting sorcerers early, training them before they enter Fire Temple Academy. They compensate the families for children to receive rigorous training in arcane arts, history, and alchemy before they turn nine. But my sorcery manifested just moons before I turned nine,” I lie. “I had no education to speak of. I could barely read, write, or even speak properly, let alone grasp the complexities of sorcery. When I started school, I felt out of place. The other girls were already advanced and looked down on me.”

I sneak another glance at Darian, half expecting a look of pity or maybe even judgment. Instead, I find… understanding, and a hint of encouragement. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d spent time as a social outcast—though I can’t imagine someone as charming as Darian ever being an outcast. But whatever emotion is in his dark blue eyes emboldens me, and I continue my tale of woe.

“Even the Sage assigned to me, one who is supposed to be a fatherfigure, essentially wanted to launch me into the nearest volcano.” I chuckle bitterly. “He was noble-born and an eight-ringed, legendary Ahira. The first time we met, I was so nervous that I was vibrating out of my skin. Couldn’t even string two words together. He took one look at me, decided I was a hopeless case, and promptly forgot I existed. I managed to scrape through my first year by some miracle. My studies improved over the years, but the social scene… not so much. I tried to make friends, but everyone had already decided I was the gray girl who smelled like old clothes. It didn’t help that they were… " My voice trails off.

“Nobles.” Darian finishes my sentence.

I nod, meeting his gaze. “They wouldn’t be caught dead associating with a common-born orphan. To them, I was beneath their attention. Firelands may preach meritocracy, but bloodlines still hold sway among the privileged. The older girls were kind but too senior to be friends with me, and for three years after I arrived, no other girls joined the Academy.”

The familiar sting of rejection makes me stop. I hadn’t meant to expose my sad history to him like this, but Darian, of course, presses on relentlessly as if my lonely life is the most fascinating topic in the entire world. “How about after the Academy?”

I shrug, trying to feign indifference. “Firelands dictates our path, based on our perceived talents and the whims of our Sages. For a sorceress, the opportunities are limited. Marriage to influential families is one option. But most affluent families only want noble bloodlines. Or common-borns who come from respectable families. An orphan? Unthinkable.”

“And for others, what opportunities are available?” he asks, his brow furrowed with genuine curiosity.

I let my back rest against the cool stone of the wall. He pivots toward me, one shoulder still casually propped against the same surface, as he crosses one leg over the other. The space between us narrows, and his nearness is a palpable thing, but surprisingly, I feel no unease.

“Limited options, depending on perceived skills. The most gifted become experimenters, alchemists, bookkeepers, or assistants. The rest perform mundane administrative tasks.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “My Sage claimed I had a knack for bookkeeping, of all things, and would be well-suited for the alchemy group to manage the records.” I roll my eyes. “Naturally, I was the sole sorceress among the alchemists.”

Darian snorts. “What a numbskull. I’m guessing you weren’t thrilled with that prospect?”

I shake my head. “By then, becoming a Martyshyar was my only focus. The key was earning my fourth ring faster than anyone my age, which granted a wish before the council, so I didn’t dispute. In Fire Temple, I had access to everything—books, experiments, a wealth of knowledge.”

“A cunning plan. No wonder you were eager to escape. Ahiras aren’t exactly renowned for their warmth and camaraderie, and isolation… it can be a soul-crushing burden.”

I nod, but my eyes search his curiously. He actually seems to understand. Like,trulyunderstand. It isn’t just polite nodding, andthat’s sad, dearsympathy. Darian is talking with a depth that makes me want to ask abouthispast… and also spill all my deepest secrets.

Suddenly, I am dying to know his story, to understand how those soulful eyes and charming face could possibly have learned to recognize the shadows of isolation. But he has theI’m-not-ready-to-unpack-my-emotional-historylook that I know all too well.

Instead, I pivot toward him, too, with my shoulder against the wall, and continue my unexpected confession sprint. “But it wasn’t just about escaping the four walls of my room. I wanted to see the world beyond those old books and gossiping sorcerers. I wanted to be more than just a forgotten alchemist.I wanted to be strong, to prove myself, to make a difference, to find a place where I truly belonged.”

I want to finish by saying, “And maybe, just maybe, to find a group of friends who don’t think I am weak and worthless,”but I stop myself as a wave of self-consciousness consumes me so suddenly.

Arien. What are you doing?

I’m spilling my deepest desires and frustrations to a stranger I met a mere ten days ago. Heat creeps into my cheeks as I stare at my empty tankard. It is a silent accomplice to my uncharacteristic openness. Had I really drained the entire thing? No wonder I’m feeling lightheaded and overly talkative. A wave of dizziness hits me, and I can’t help but cringe inwardly. Did I just make a complete fool of myself?

But Darian seems unfazed by my sudden apprehension. He considers my words with a thoughtful nod and a steady gaze. “It’s a primal yearning. This desire for adventure and recognition, for a place to escape. Firelands has failed to see the fire that burns inside you. They’ve ignored your talents, discarding you against all good sense. But loyalty is a two-way road. And you owe nothing to those who refuse to see your worth. And, despite all that, you were brave enough, wise enough, strong enough to walk away from it all. You may not acknowledge it even to yourself, but you must know your own value deep inside. That’s why you dared to choose a different path. Defy expectations. To live the life thatyouwanted.That, Arien, is a rare and remarkable feat.” His gaze holds mine, filled with a sincerity that fills my heart in a gentle wave. “And for that, I respect you more than most people I know. More than… myself.”

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