Page 58 of The Ninth Element

I suddenly see Lila’s defeated face, remember her doubts, and realize they are my own, too. How can I be haunted by that memory when I am stepping into a life that could bring many more experiences like it?

Looking down again at my fiddling fingers, I whisper under my breath, “What if I’m not cut out for all of this? For Martysh life? When I’m shaken so easily by a single encounter?”

It should feel strange to share such a profound vulnerability with thisdistant, guarded man that I have worshipped from the shadows for years. But it doesn’t.

“I would much prefer a sword in the hand of someone who hesitates before striking, who feels sorrow after the deed is done.”

His eyes finally turn to me, and I look up to meet them. The morning sun catches the gold in their depths, and for the first time, the glacier I am used to seeing has melted away. “There is no glory in death. Only in protecting those who don’t deserve it. You saved a man you had no reason to save. That isnotweakness.”

The unexpected warmth in his gaze makes my head spin. It isn’t just the absence of his usual ice; it is a light that seems to shine from within, a deeply human quality that is a thousand times more captivating than his cold perfection.

Before I can savor this unexpected sight any further, his expression shifts, and the new softness hardens at the edges. “But being worthy of a path doesn’t make it the right one for you. You see Martysh as freedom. An escape. It’s not. It’s just a different kind of cage, gilded and far more dangerous than the one you left.”

I frown at the sudden bitterness that has crept into his voice and the abrupt shift from understanding to this grim warning. “It’s my only chance to escape the grip of Firelands. At least I’m walking into this cage by my own choice.”

“We all play the hand we’re dealt, Arien,” Zanyar rumbles. And the realization that it’s the first time my name has graced his lips shakes something deep inside my core. “The question is, how cunning are we in playing it?”

“What good is cunning if you’re forever trapped?” I ask weakly.

“True freedom isn’t just about escaping from one prison to another,” he responds with a softer tone. “It’s about shaping your destiny within the confines of your circumstances. Martysh holds secrets that could alter the fate of the world. It’s not a sanctuary, Arien; it’s a viper’s nest, and you’re walking blindly into it because desperation has clouded your judgment.”

Despite the strange softness in his voice, his words send a sliver of icyfear through me, which is instantly replaced by a sharp, sudden bitterness. Here he is, using my name, acting as if we share some deep connection. It feels like a cruel mockery of the distance he’s kept all this time.

“And what about Firelands? What grand opportunities wait for me there?” I spit.

Zanyar meets my gaze head-on with a steely resolve. “More than you think. If you have the courage to ask for it.”

Rage flares in my chest so suddenly that it is beyond my comprehension. Does he truly believe my circumstances were self-inflicted? A mark of my own cowardice and weakness?

Bitterness drips from my words as I spit, “Easy for you to say. You walked those halls adorned with reverence. A descendant of those who gifted Firelands to the Ahiras. Everyone worshiped you. Our experiences could not have been more different. You can’t possibly understand what it feels like to be… You don’t know… " My voice falters, choked by memories of the past.

How can I reveal the depths of my isolation, the crushing loneliness that haunted me for so long, to this man who has barely acknowledged my existence until now? Whose circumstances have been the exact opposite of mine?

To my surprise, Zanyar’s voice is calm and devoid of judgment when he speaks. “Perhaps I don’t fully understand, but I’m not entirely ignorant, Arien. I’ve watched you for years.”

Again, he renders me speechless. I blink, then open my mouth to say something,anything, but before I can regain my voice, Zanyar continues, “It is different for you now than before. Your four rings at such a young age command respect. It gives you power. Control. Brutus holds no sway over your fate now that you can appeal directly to Ahira Emmengar. You have options.”

He hesitates, and a flicker of nervousness crosses his face, an emotion I never imagined he could feel. Then, with what seems like a newfound resolve, he continues, “You can come to Aramis. We are pioneering new forging techniques and strengthening our metals with Elify. It was youridea, remember? In the alchemy hall. I have smiths ready to test it. You can oversee the entire operation if you join Aramis as a special envoy from Firelands.”

I’m too shocked to remind him that Firelands never sends sorceresses as envoys. As if reading my mind, he says, “They will send you if Aramis requests someone with direct experience of mixing iron and Elify. I can vouch that you’re the one with the most experience in this matter. Aravan is a large city, offering access to numerous amenities. Madrisa is there with their own wealth of knowledge beyond sorcery. Your life will be vastly different there.”

I shake my head, still trying to catch up on what he’s offering me. “And yet, I can always be called back to Firelands at any time.”

“Not if you have power. The more power you have, the more control you will have over your destiny. We can… We can work together to get our next rings in the next three years. If you get your fifth ring before twenty-five, you will be the youngest since me and Ahira Emmengar. No one will doubt your talent. I will help you, and I want to get my sixth too. We can rule our destiny only by showing our worth, so no one can dare control our fate for us.”

I frown at his words. He says WE as if he and I are in this together. What is this? Why is he offering this to me? Why is he pretending that he and I are a team? What did he mean by saying he’s been watching me?

My thoughts are racing, but I can not focus on any single thing. I’m stunned and confused. I don’t understand what he means. Going to Aravan, the capital of Aramis, one of the most fascinating towns on the continent, and getting my fifth ring all seems like a dream. A life of safety and security…

NO! I’ve fought too hard, come too far, to let go of my dream now.

Shaking my head, I ask, “What do you want from me? Why are you offering me this?”

Zanyar stares at me, his shining green eyes radiating a softness that makes it hard to breathe. What is it that I see in their depths? Is that… affection? But how? Why? Where has this feeling, this expression, been this whole time?

Instead of answering, he gently takes my hand, his touch sending another wave of heat through me. He cradles it, his thumb tracing the delicate lines of my palm as he murmurs a healing spell. Immediately, the numerous small cuts from my frantic search over the rough arena floor begin to knit together, the sting fading into a dull throb, then vanishing entirely.

My cheeks flush, a warmth I’ve always associated with him blooming across my skin. But this time, it is deeper, more profound than just a physical reaction I’ve always had in his vicinity.

---