Exaughst

Audra

A dull ache pulsed in my skull as I stirred awake, my senses sluggish. Acheron lay beside me, his breath slow and steady in deep slumber. His long silver-white hair was bound in its usual tight braid, his bare chest rising and falling in rhythm. The wounds from battle marred his skin, some still raw and angry. Without thinking, I reached out, my fingertips grazing the jagged edge of a gash on his shoulder. A small pool of water formed beneath my touch, seeping into the wound like liquid silk. Acheron stirred, then jolted upright violently. His eyes snapped to mine, breath sharp with confusion. My hand still pressed against his chest, my heart hammering beneath my ribs. His gaze flickered downward—where once there had been torn flesh, there was now the shallow appearance from where the wound sat. A strange softness settled in his expression, unfamiliar yet undeniable. His hand covered mine, warm and firm, as he gently pulled it away. "What are you doing?" His voice, still rough from sleep, sent a shiver through me. I swallowed, retreating slightly. "Nothing. I—I wanted to see if I could help." Acheron scoffed, shifting to face me fully. "Of course, it is your fault I am hurt." His tone carried its usual sharp edge, but his gaze lingered on the fading wound. He flexed his arm, rolling his shoulder as if testing the limits of my healing. Though he knew he was training me well. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing briefly before making his way to the bathroom. I watched as the door clicked shut behind him, exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. A knock at the door broke my thoughts. Sylvin peeked inside, his sharp gaze sweeping the room before settling on me. "Are you ready for breakfast?" he asked, eyes flicking toward the bathroom door. I stood, brushing off the lingering haze of sleep. "He's in there," I said, motioning toward the bathroom. Sylvin nodded. "He can meet us downstairs. You coming?" I gave a small nod and followed him out. The dining hall bustled with quiet chatter, servants and soldiers moving between tables in a practiced rhythm. Meals were always served buffet-style to accommodate the sheer number of people living here. I grabbed a tray, piling it with eggs, waffles, bacon, and a few strips of sausage. Hot, sticky maple syrup drizzled over my waffles and sausage, the rich scent mingling with the warm aroma of fresh bread and coffee. I poured a glass of orange juice before taking a seat across from Sylvin. Before I could take a sip, he grabbed my juice, tipping a small packet of powder into it. Using a spoon, he stirred it in methodically, not bothering to hide what he was doing. I watched, upset at his blatant action. "Drink your juice," he commanded, sliding the glass closer. I hesitated, fingers tightening around my fork. I had always known they drugged my drinks, but seeing it done so openly stirred a quiet defiance in me. My eyes met Sylvin's, questioning whether I actually had to drink it. He exhaled sharply, tapping his fingernail against the glass. "You'd better not let Acheron see that attitude. If he thinks you're thinking too clearly, he'll up the dose in a heartbeat." I let out a slow breath. He was right. Lifting the glass, I took a small sip. The juice, once sweet, now carried a bitter aftertaste. Sylvin rolled his eyes at my reluctance. I forced myself to finish eating, washing the last bite down with the tainted juice. The bitterness lingered on my tongue long after. Acheron never came downstairs, and after we had finished eating, Sylvin led me outside. The sun hung high in the sky as we stepped into the back gardens, where the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers filled the air. I knelt beside a flowerbed, carefully placing the delicate tulips into the soil. The mundane act was grounding—some form of sanity in my captivity. After a while, I wandered toward the large koi pond at the far edge of the garden. I sank onto the stone ledge, hugging my knees to my chest as I watched the koi glide through the water. Their golden-white scales shimmered in the sunlight, creating rippling patterns beneath the surface. The air shifted behind me, a familiar weight settling nearby. I didn't need to turn to know Acheron had joined me. He said nothing at first, merely watching as I dipped my hand into the pond, fingers tracing the surface. A flicker of power stirred beneath my skin. I willed the water upward, shaping small droplets into floating spheres. They hung in the air, pulsing gently like tiny stars caught in daylight. With a tilt of my wrist, I guided them into a slow, circular dance. Acheron's gaze followed the movement, his expression unreadable. "You're getting better," he murmured. Something in his voice made me pause. I let the water fall back into the pond, the ripples distorting the koi beneath. "I guess I'm learning," I said quietly.

Flash Back - 1 month ago. Her first lesson in wielding. 

We stood outside the air biting my skin, We were in the forest surrounded by a large lake. I stood at it's edge admiring the tranquility of the water. I sighed frustrated, the water rippled, reacting to my presence. "You have to latch onto it." Acheron says breaking my thoughts. I look up at him and try again. I push my hand out over the water's surface. It moved back slightly, shying away from my hand. "It doesn't listen to me." I say softly, looking to Acheron for answers. Acheron stepped closer, I could feel the blanket of heat around him, he was using his power to protect himself from the cold. "Because you don't know how to make it listen." He finally answered. With a flick of his wrist, flames come to life in his palm, casting golden light over his face. The fire does not resist him. It bows. "Magic is not a gift, Audra. It is a force of nature. You don't ask it to serve you. You take control, or it consumes you." He says gently explaining, a small determination behind his words. I flinch slightly as he hurls the ball of fire towards the lake behind me. It hits the surface with a loud hiss, steam rising in a violent burst. The water roils—reacting, resisting, but ultimately yielding to the heat. "Water is passive, soft. But under pressure? It boils." He mocks, his tone reverting back to his normal self. I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling inside me. The water reacts, swirling angrily, responding to me. I try to guide it, but control slips through my fingers like sand. "It doesn't work like fire." I say "The water doesn't want to be willed." "You're weak, it will never bend to you if you continue like this." He says sharply, guiding his gaze towards mine. My head snaps toward him, fury flashing in my eyes. The water reacts, rising suddenly, lashing out in a twisting tendril. It strikes toward Acheron like a whip—only for him to catch it midair. Steam erupts as his fingers glow red-hot. The water evaporates instantly, vanishing in a hiss. Acheron doesn't even flinch. "Anger is good. But raw emotion without control? Useless." I clench my fists, my breaths unsteady. I watch as Acheron flicks his fingers, fire crackling to life once more. His element responds immediately—effortlessly. It's instinct for him. For me? Water still feels like something outside of myself, something I cannot hold onto. "How do I make it mine?" I whisper, Acheron steps closer, his gaze burning into mine. "You don't just wield it. You become it. You let it seep into your bones, into your blood, until there is no distinction between where you end and where your magic begins." He lifts a hand, the fire in his palm intensifying, the heat pressing against my skin. "Magic is submission or domination. Fire burns because I command it. If you can't make water bend to you…" He leans in slightly, his voice low, taunting. "…then you are nothing but a girl who should have stayed dead." Something snaps inside of me. The water surges upward, twisting violently—but this time, It doesn't just lash out. I focused, my heartbeat syncing with the pulse of the liquid. The tendrils coil around Acheron's wrist—not like a wild strike, but like a firm, unyielding grip. For the first time, Acheron stills. The flames in his hand flicker, battling the cold touch of the water wrapping around him. I exhale, and my grip tightens. "I'm not nothing." My voice heavy, barely above a whisper. A beat of silence. Then he starts to laugh. A deep, amused chuckle. He flicks his fingers, fire flaring, and the water evaporates. "Better. But not good enough." He steps back, the smirk never leaving his face.

End Flash Back

A moment passed before he asked, "What were you humming just now?" I blinked, realizing I had been humming absentmindedly, as I recalled our first lesson, the soft melody slipped from my lips without thought. It was a song I hadn't sung in years, buried deep in the corners of my mind. I hesitated before answering. "It's… just something my mother used to sing to me when I was little. A lullaby." Acheron's expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—recognition, maybe, or the ghost of a memory long buried. "Sing it," he said, his tone neither commanding nor cruel, but quiet. I hesitated, but something in the moment felt different. So I did. My voice was soft, barely above a whisper, carrying the gentle tune across the water.

"Sleep, my love, the night is deep,

Moonlight dances, stars will keep.

Winds may call, and waves may sigh,

But I will hold you when you cry.

Close your eyes, my darling light,

Dream of rivers, blue and bright.

When you wake, you'll know the way,

The dawn will chase the dark away."

The melody faded into the air, lingering like the last embers of a dying fire. Acheron exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the pond. "Strange," he murmured. "That song… I feel like I've heard it before." I studied his face, searching for the lie, but there was none. "Maybe you did," I said softly. He didn't answer. Instead, he stood, brushing off the dirt from his clothes. "Let's go inside," he said at last, his voice distant. I nodded, casting one last glance at the koi pond before following him back toward the fortress. But even as we walked, the melody still echoed in my mind. And, for the briefest moment, I wondered if it echoed in his too. He left me alone in his room, I decided to take a bath. I ran the water, adding a generous pour of lavender-scented bubbles. Once the tub was full, I stripped off my clothes and slipped into the warmth, letting out a contented sigh. The heat soothed my muscles, but my mind was restless. Experimenting, I lifted a handful of water, twisting it in the air, shaping and coloring it at will. Soon, the room filled with floating droplets of every hue, suspended in intricate patterns. The effort made me sweat, my concentration razor-sharp. I didn't hear the door open. "What's this?" Acheron's deep voice rumbled through the bathroom. Startled, my concentration snapped. The suspended water crashed down, drenching the floor—and him. I gasped, scrambling to cover myself, sending more water spilling over the edge of the tub. Acheron stood there, his face shadowed with annoyance, wiping his palm down his wet face. My lips twitched at the sight, a fleeting smirk forming—until I saw the fire flicker in his eyes. With a sharp exhale, his body flared with heat, flames licking over his skin, evaporating the water in an instant. "Stop playing around," he snapped. "Get dressed and come downstairs. Don't take forever." I nodded, watching as he turned and slammed the door behind him. Sighing, I willed the remaining water back into the tub, drying the floor as best as I could. Once clean, I dressed in a long-sleeved sundress, the red hibiscus flowers standing in contrast to my pale skin. After smoothing cream into my curls, I slipped on a pair of sandals and made my way downstairs, preparing for whatever awaited me next.