After an excruciatingly painful experience, Mageia finds out she is not just the thief with purple eyes, but she is the Fairest of Valeera. A demi-god position that sets her above every royal and the gods. But she's not ready to accept it. The only...
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Purple light graced her. The thick air, calm and inviting, flowed through her transparent skin as if she had become a spirit.
Oh no. I'm dead again! Or is this a dream?
Dying again would be horrible since it meant losing another one of her lives. That, she vowed to never happen again.
A minute of breathing in the pleasant odor of fresh soil confirmed otherwise. Yet it was the beautiful majestic tree at the center of the room that exhausted an awe from her trembling body. Purple from its hundreds of limbs and leaves down to the massive roots risen from the ground, the tree had to be almost ten feet tall surrounded by walls of rock.
"Where am I?"
She observe the treetop and noticed three branches had shriveled up and turned black as char.
"Haminest. Me afsand," a voice said in Valeeran.
"Fairest. Seek me?" Mageia translated in the common tongue of Arisian then in response. "I don't even know where this is?"
A glow appeared in one large section of the trunk and flickered away, leaving behind an unknown symbol. A circle at the center of a diamond with eight matching circles overlapping the lines. The branches above began to move on their own causing leaves both alive and dead to detach and float onto the piles surrounding the base of the tree.
Another glow arose around her coming from the new marks in the palms of her hands.
"Me afsand," the voice urged, loud in her ears.
She woke up to a pair of honey-colored eyes peering down at her with worry.
"Mageia, are you okay?" Gris said.
She rose onto her elbows and found them surrounded in a puff of magic.
"Oh no. What happened?" She said waving it away only for her arm muscles to throb as it flowed back into her pores.
"You started grunting as if you were having a nightmare," Gris said. The worry lines between his brow relaxed as his attention drew to some of the magic clinging and dissolving into his amber skin. "Whoa. That feels good."
Mageia chuckled and sat up, crossing her legs and adjusting her clothes and the blanket. "Did I wake you?"
Grisonce Arlon, the Prince of Ardania, shook his head causing his hair to bounce. "No. No. I was in and out." He cleared his throat and stared at the floor.
Thunder rumbled outside despite the sunlight showering the living room.
She nipped at the scab on her bottom lip where the cruel Fiisen, Commander Eron Shadar, had bitten it for blood. The magic in her body shuddered on its own unable to distinguish her feelings about that and everything that has happened so far.
