My fury mounted and I found myself clutching the bars of their cell until my knuckles went white. Insult me all you wanted but keep Ilian out of it. I deserved the disgusted looks and harsh words. He didn’t. He spent so much time worrying about these two idiots that it sickened me. And yet here they were, daring to insult him. Landon didn’t stop there, he continued to fling insults at Ilian, calling him all sorts of horrendous names, insinuating disgusting theories about him and his character. I wanted to scream at him to stop, but my words were choked in my throat as my rage continued to fester. 

I felt my eyes begin to burn in response to my anger. My magic was triggering, but why? I wasn’t hungry. There was no ache in my stomach. Yet I could feel my magic growing. Landon’s snide comments fell silent in my ears. I could see his lips moving but I heard no sounds beyond the pulse of blood in his veins. His skin started to fade before me, allowing me to see the intricacies of his vascular system. Before I could even begin to fathom what I was doing, my body reacted on pure instinct and I delicately swirled my wrist. The motion caused Landon’s blood to reroute itself away from his lungs. Hypoxia, somehow I knew the word. I knew what I was triggering in Landon. 

Landon stopped his tirade mid sentence and clutched at his sides. The first symptom of hypoxia, shortness of breath. Blood is no longer carrying oxygen throughout your body. I could see the fear start to mount in his eyes as it got harder and harder for him to breathe. His heart rate increased more and more by the second, the second symptom.

“Oh gods! Landon!” Pan panicked and rushed to her friend's side. She yanked his hands into the light so she could see the bluish tinge that had begun to form at his fingertips, the third symptom.

Landon’s fear mounted as he struggled to keep himself sitting upright. The dizziness was starting, his body struggling to cope with the loss of oxygen. A little longer and he would cease to be able to function. Your brain and heart can only cope with a loss of oxygen for so long. He was drowning without being held under water. Somehow I knew all of these things… no… not me. My desire knew these things. I could feel his laughter dancing at the back of my subconscious. Was I enjoying watching Landon suffer like this? 

“STOP!” Pan screamed at me, “Please stop! You are going to kill him,” she begged.

In that instant I was brought back to the first night that Ilian had joined me in my room. I remember how fearful he was about accidentally killing Landon and Pan that night. How would Ilian react to me killing them? Not wanting to find out I tried to pull away from my magic. 

Desire’s laughter grew louder in my ears, You want this just as much as I do. Don’t fight me. He was right, a sick and twisted part of myself was enjoying this. I wanted him to suffer for insulting Ilian. My heavenly Ilian. We are doing this for him, Desire’s reasoning echoed through me. But this wasn’t for Ilian. Ilian wouldn’t want this and deep down I knew that. We have to protect Ilian, stop fighting me on this. You know I’m right, Desire’s echoes became desperate as I continued to release my hold on Landon’s vascular system. This wasn’t protecting Ilian. I didn’t need to kill someone over an insult, and I’d be damned if I would. Killing someone over an insult was something my father would do, and I had already vowed I would be anything but that man. Ilian is how you survive, you must protect him! Desire was correct to some degree, Ilian was the source of my will and I would do anything necessary to protect him. But that didn’t mean I had to do this.

“You told me once not to allow myself to drown in my guilt and sadness. If I did I would never grow to be the person I wanted to be. I think you left out one vital emotion in that. I’ll drown just as fast in my anger,” I whispered to myself as I felt the last of my magic leave Landon, “Ilian deserves better, and I will be better for him.”

Landon and Pan were oblivious to the fact that I was talking to myself. The color was slowly returning to Landon, his breathing becoming more even by the second. He leaned on Pan as his body continued to try to readjust itself. Tears streaked Pan’s face and I could see the tremors in her hands from where I was standing.

“You stopped?” Landon said through shaky breaths.

I paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond to Landon. How do you tell someone that you didn’t stop for them? That if Ilian weren’t a part of my life there would have been nothing in the world that would have stopped me from killing him. The truth of the matter was that without Ilian, I would be the monster everyone believed I was.

“Truthfully, I didn’t stop for you. I stopped because it’s what Ilian would want me to do,” I said in a calm tone, “In fact all of this,” I gestured to myself and then to them, “Is because it’s what Ilian would want. Listen, I could give a fuck if you stay in these cells until you rot. But Ilian cares what happens to you. I don’t know why because frankly, you two are assholes. If you really want to stay in this hellhole, fine. But do the rest of us a favor and stop attacking people that don’t deserve it.”

I rubbed at my eyes, knowing in no way shape or form was this the way to appeal to their reasonable sides. It sounded nothing like the encouraging speeches that Ilian gave the night before. It didn’t even remotely sound like the fake diplomatic speeches that my father would give. This was pure honesty, and it was hard to stop once it started.

“Make whatever decision you want to. Stay here, come back to the barracks. I don’t care at this point. I said I would come down here to talk with you two and I have. I don’t really know why Finney and Ilian thought me coming down here would help,” I said laughing slightly, “But they thought it would.”

Landon and Pan stared back at me incredulously. After a few moments of awkward silence, I realized that they would just continue to sit there and stare at me like that. Feeling as though I had just failed Ilian, I turned away from their cell and started back towards the entrance to the building.

One of the guards stood at the end of the hall, watching me carefully. Embarrassment filled me. How long had she been there? What did she hear? Did she see me attack them? If she did see me, was I going to end up in the cell next to them as punishment?

She smirked upon my approach, “That’s the first time any of us has gotten those two little shits to shut up all week,” she said, leaning to whisper to me, “Good job.”

Good job? I didn’t want to be rewarded for hurting someone. I came here to appeal to them. Not scare the shit out of them and give one a near death experience. 

The guard led me back to the entrance, and it wasn’t until I was outside again that I felt the weight be lifted off of me. I didn’t realize just how much I was stressing doing that. That stress was then quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of failure. I pondered how Ilian would react to the news of my failure. Would he be disappointed? How would Finney react? He needed me to do this to help take the stress off Palaemon. Would Finney turn against me now that I had failed him? Would he punish me the same way my father had anytime I failed him?

I picked nervously at my nails as I made my way back through the center of camp. Finney and Palaemon’s quarters were next to the main fire. The largest tent of all of them, it had a small study when you first walked in, then to the left a larger addition where the two slept, and a smaller meeting area off to the right. Palaemon was out at a conference with the other aphiel’s, leaving Finney here to watch over the camp. 

Entering the tent, I approached the large table where Finney sat engrossed in his ledgers. He was unaware of my presence and I paused, unsure if I should interrupt him while he was working.

“Distract him, gods know he needs it,” Mae said, startling me.

I didn’t know she would be here. I assumed that with Sion away from his camp, Mae would be in charge like Finney was. It was weird to me that she was here with Finney instead.

“It’s not that weird. Anytime Pay’s away, Sion sends me to stay with Fin,” Mae explained.

Finney looked up from his ledger and pinned Mae with a stern glare, “You are doing it again Mae. Ask before you look.”

Mae shrugged, “It's a habit I can’t help it,” she then turned her attention back to me, “Because I know they haven’t bothered to go over any of this with you, I’ll explain. Finney and I are nelote rank.”

“I know that..” I muttered.

“Well, did you know that an aphiel is allowed as many nelote as they want?” Mae said.

I shook my head. If Palaemon was allowed multiple nelote why wouldn’t he take more. Surely someone that high in rank would help take the burden off of him. 

“It would. He had what, three? Four? At one point,” she asked Finney, who just shrugged in response, “They got it in their heads though that Pay was an easy target. They took his kindness for granted and turned everyone in the camp against him. He didn’t realize what was happening though, and continued to put his trust in them. Then, while they were on the battlefield, they threw him to the wolves.”

“I feel as though I should mention that this discussion doesn’t leave this tent,” Finney warned me, “Pay doesn’t like when people talk about it.”

I nodded to Finney letting him know that I understood his request, “It doesn’t sound like his fault though.”

“The elders don’t see it that way. To them, all they see is some new, young aphiel letting his entire team escape. They deserted him on that field and took off for the hills. All twenty of them,” Finney elaborated, “They didn’t last long, though. The castle sent guards after them and boy were they up to their ears with pounds of the eloria drug. It took them almost no effort to stop the rogue mages. Pay doesn’t believe in using eloria to train, so they weren’t accustomed to the drug being used against them.”

“What happened to them?” I asked.

Finney scoffed, “Simple, they were executed. That’s what happens when you abandon your post here. Palaemon spent two months in the catacombs as punishment for letting it happen. It’s why he only trusts me to run things. If it weren’t for his nelote, the saerahin and isturn wouldn’t have turned.”

“Catacombs?” I questioned, “And where were you, did you not know the other nelote’s plans?”

“I was a saerahin under Sion when it happened. It wasn’t until I gained rank, and Sion petitioned for me to be relocated to Palaemon that I became his nelote. For about a year after the incident he didn’t have any nelote,” Finney explained, “And the catacombs are under Caer Tower. They serve as a supreme punishment that can only be ordered by the elders.”