KGWrites

Iona

Alyx Cobalt’s Apartment, Falcon’s Nest Palace, Kingdom of Aldiron

It had taken Iona just a few minutes to haul Alyx onto a charred cart and get her out of the Oasis, and only a couple more to find guards that then helped her run the cart up to the palace as fast as possible. But they’d felt like the longest minutes of her life.

The only comfort she’d had the whole time was that she could still see Alyx breathing. She wasn’t dead.

Yet.

Iona buried that doubtful little voice in as deep a hole as she possibly could. And then she filled that hole with rocks and built a dungeon on top of it.

She wouldn’t let Alyx die. She’d fight the Gravekeeper Themselves if that’s what it took.

She’d managed to get Alyx to her apartment in the Palace and laid in her bed, sending some of the guards helping her off to find a priest of the Physician and to tell James, Lillian and her father what had happened. And then Iona had gotten to work herself.

Being as careful as she could, Iona had removed what parts of Alyx’s armour she had been able to and placed them to the side. She had left the actual injuries for when help arrived, but she’d gotten to work on gathering towels and basins of water. Iona did her best to place the towels around and beneath Alyx’s body, focussing on her wounds and watching as the white fabrics were soon beginning to stain red. She ignored them and kept working. She soaked towels and pressed them to Alyx’s forehead, trying desperately to keep her cool, the woman felt like she was burning up.

She had just unfastened the pauldron where Alyx had been pierced by the crossbow bolt and was working herself up to remove it when two priests of the Physician filed into the room.

One of them was clearly experienced, immediately taking over the leadership of the treatment. He took a mere second to take in Alyx’s injuries before he started directing things, guiding Iona firmly and certainly through helping them. Together, he and Iona removed the pauldron carefully, working the crossbow bolt back out with it. Thankfully, the bolt hadn’t had a barbed tip and so was simple to pull out the same way it went in.

The cries of pain that Alyx made tore at Iona’s chest and she winced away from them as if struck. The lead medic steadied her wrist as the other immediately pressed some sort of salve onto the blood wound.

“Screams are good Princess. If she can scream, she can breathe and speak. If she can scream, she’s alive.” He said, his voice pouring icy water over Iona’s blazing anxiety. Shakily, she nodded, moving back to Alyx.

The medics worked at Alyx’s shoulder for a while, letting the knife stay in place as it worked effectively enough to staunch her bleeding and seal the wound. All that time, Iona stayed by Alyx’s side, keeping fresh towels on her head to keep her cool, making sure she drank water whenever she was able and talking to her whenever she was awake. Alyx never responded beyond grunts and groans, but the priest was right, it meant she was alive.

It felt like hours had passed before the door opened again and James rushed through, Lillian and Meghan Whiteoak hot on his heels. He came to a stop, taking in the scene before him, fear clear on his face as he saw the state of his sister. Then he moved straight to the medics.

“Will she live?” He asked bluntly, panic clear at the edge of his words.

“Provided you allow us space and time to work, and assist us when we ask for it, then yes. She’s fighting hard, we just have to help her win.” The medic responded, not taking his eyes off his patient. James nodded, taking a step to the side and standing to watch, though it only took a few seconds for him to start pacing the floor. Lillian sat on the couch near the fire, hugging her knees to her and looking over at the working medics wide eyed. Meghan Whiteoak though, approached Iona, placing her hand on her shoulder and pulling gently, guiding her away from Alyx.

Iona shrugged her off and shook her head firmly. I’m not leaving, not until I know she’s alright.

“You’ve done what you can Iona, time to step away.” Meghan said, her voice soft yet with a commanding tone which told Iona she wasn’t making a suggestion. Iona shook her head once more.

“Princess, you’ve done excellently. Getting her here safely and reaching out to us as fast as you did has given her the best chance you could have. And your help after our arrival has been invaluable, truly both Bailiff and Physician look proudly on you today. But you must rest too.” The lead priest told her. Again, Iona shook her head.

“This happened protecting me, I won’t leave her.” She replied, staying firmly placed in the chair. Then James approached her, crouching down into her eyeline next to Alyx’s bed, reaching out one hand to place it on the cold towel Iona was holding to Alyx’s forehead.

“If she lives, then I owe you more than you know. She’s in the safest hands she can be. But you need to recover too. I’ve got things from here. Go.” He said, his voice shaking only slightly as he got close enough to see the bloodstained towels.

Iona stared at James for a long time, before finally, she lifted her hand from the towel and stood from the chair. James quickly took her place, not lifting his eyes from Alyx.

“If there’s any change.” She began to say when Lillian looked up to her.

“I will find you.” She told her, her voice strong with purpose. Iona nodded.

Meghan Whiteoak’s hand found Iona’s shoulders and she firmly guided the Princess away from the bed. As they stepped through the door and out of the apartment, Iona risked one look back at Alyx.

Live. Please live.

Meghan led Iona through the halls of the palace, avoiding any areas with large numbers of people. Soon they reached the royal apartments and Iona’s own rooms.

Outside the door stood Sir Junice, whose face paled as he saw the state the Princess was in. He began to ask a question when Meghan’s hand snapped upwards.

“Leave us. And say nothing of what you’ve just seen.” She commanded and Junice drew back in surprise. But unlike earlier, when he’d argued against Alyx, being faced with Meghan’s orders he seemed far less conflicted. He nodded once, and turned to walk away down the corridor.

They stepped in through the door to Iona’s rooms and Meghan finally released Iona’s shoulders. Then she spun around and pulled the heavy door closed, sliding the latch in place with a heavy thud. She then began moving around the room, pulling closed all window shutters and the balcony doors.

As Meghan moved around the room, Iona found her senses sharpen as the scent of warm, freshly baked bread and roasted chicken hit her nose and she felt her stomach growl with such intensity that it felt she hadn’t eaten in days. She took a few steps towards the small table by the fire where the food sat on a platter when Meghan finished closing up the room and whirled to face her.

“What happened?” She demanded, a harsh edge to her voice that took Iona by surprise, and she struggled to form a response.

“We um… we went to the Winter District, some criminals ambushed us. They knew Alyx, seemed like they’d been looking for her.” She said hurriedly and Meghan shook her head.

“Yes yes, the guard you sent told us all that. That’s not what I’m asking. I can practically smell the magic coming off you Iona, what did you do?” Meghan responded, striding quickly across the room to stand right in front of Iona. Iona stepped back, her mind reeling. She hadn’t even thought about using her magic, it had just come to her in the moment.

“I… threw one of them with magic. She broke her neck I think.” Iona told her and Meghan turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose. Silently she walked to the two cushioned chairs next to the table with the food and sunk into one, gesturing for Iona to sit in the other.

Nervously, Iona did so, approaching Meghan as one might a snake ready to strike. Never looking at her but staring at something in the middle distance, Meghan lifted a plate loaded with bread and chicken and slid it across the table to Iona.

“Eat. Now.” She commanded firmly. Iona was about to object when her stomach rumbled again, making her quickly relent and scoop some warm chicken into her mouth. She sighed in instant satisfaction as it seemed the world itself around her suddenly gained more colour.

Meghan leaned forwards in her chair, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands pressed flat together. She rested her forehead on the tips of her fingers and took a deep breath.

“I want you to understand Iona that right now, you are extremely lucky. If you hadn’t eaten before doing that, the energy it consumed may very well have left you in worse state than Alyx is right now, if you were even still breathing.” She said after a while, her voice calmer and quieter, yet still hard as tempered steel.

Iona paused in her eating, shock washing over her like icy water. She kept watching Meghan, waiting for an explanation.

“I told you during your first lesson that we as humans were not meant to have magic, that it isn’t natural for us.” Meghan continued. “We have to be very careful when we use magic, or it will consume us as fire consumes its fuel. Up to this point, our lessons have been at the smallest of small scale uses, to teach you the basic principles of magic use.”

Iona understood that well enough, before today, moving a brick from one pedestal to another or redirecting a single blow had been the extent of her magic use. She nodded but didn’t speak.

“This is because magic uses our energy, our bodies, to fuel it. And without proper training, and a proper focus to channel your power through, then bigger spells can exhaust you, or even kill you. I have been working on training the basics with you first.” Meghan continued to explain. Iona tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowed.

“What’s a focus?” She asked. Meghan looked at her and gave a slight shake of her head.

“A question for later. Right now, I need you to promise me that you will not use magic like that again.” Meghan said, her eyes meeting Iona’s and giving her a hard stare.

“I… I promise to try. But honestly Meghan, I didn’t really think about it. I needed to do something, or Alyx would die and I just… did it.” Iona said after a moment. Meghan bit at her lip in frustration.

“That is… in many ways worse and very worrying. We will work on your self-control in future lessons to stop it from happening again. You must understand, magic should be your very last resort in any situation. Especially without a focus.” Meghan responded and Iona leaned forwards.

“Then all the more reason for me to know about focuses?” She suggested and Meghan scoffed.

“As much as it is refreshing to see your enthusiasm to learn magic grow, you really do need to eat, and to rest.” Meghan said, moving to stand from her chair. Before she could leave though, Iona’s hand darted out to grip hers in a tight grip, like she was a lifeline in a storm.

“Please Meghan. My friend is hurt, she’s maybe even dying, and it’s because she was protecting me. And I can’t do anything to help her. As tired as I am, I will not be able to rest. I’ll just sit here, afraid. So please, give me something else to think about, teach me a new lesson.” Iona begged, feeling tears brim her eyes as she spoke about Alyx’s injuries, her mind still flashing with images of the blood-stained towels and the sound of her pained screams.

Meghan was silent for a moment, looking down at the princess and clearly considering how to respond before she let out a long sigh.

“Alright.” She said, pulling her hand gently from beneath Iona’s.  

Meghan stood and, before Iona could even say anything to react, pulled her violet tunic over her head, leaving her standing before Iona with just a thin fabric binding around her chest to protect her modesty.

In the back of her mind, some part of Iona that had dreamed of this leapt for joy. But the more sensible part, once it had recovered from the initial shock of the movement, caused Iona to lean forward with curiosity at what she saw.

Stretching from Meghan’s navel, up her sternum and spreading out across her collarbone was a series of intricate, twisting tattoos, the branches of a tree. The branches stretched over her shoulders and Iona stood to follow them, moving around Meghan to see that they joined up to more branches that stretched down the length of her arms, ending just above her wrists. Meghan’s back was entirely covered by the image of the tree itself, its thick trunk tracing her spine and the wide branches and leaves spreading across her shoulder blades, linking to the rest of the tattoos. The whole pattern was inked in icy white, standing out brightly against the deep brown of her skin and the black of her curled hair.

Absently, Iona reached out to try and trace one of the tattoos with her finger, only to draw it back in shock when Meghan slapped her hand away.

“You can look but don’t touch Princess. Keep focussed.” Meghan joked with a half-smile, though to Iona it seemed… forced somehow. Still though, it was enough to turn Iona tomato red with embarrassment.

“What are they?” She asked, her eyes still tracing the beautiful pattern. It was beyond intricate, the branches twisted and turned around each other so much that Iona lost track of where they began and ended and linked with each other.

“They’re my focus. The ink used for the tattoos is enhanced with magical powders and other alchemist’s tricks. It’s how human sorcerers survive using more powerful spells. The tattoos let us channel the energy through the ink, save us from burning up ourselves.” Meghan responded. Iona sensed a hesitation, like there was more to what Meghan was saying that she was holding back, but she decided not to push the matter too far. Convincing Meghan to stay and give the lesson had been difficult enough. She didn’t want her to leave now.

“So, if I had tattoos like these, I’d have been alright using magic like I did today?” Iona asked instead. Meghan tilted her head from side to side.

“It wouldn’t have been so very risky for you burning up energy. But there are still plenty of risks to consider if a spell is not cast properly, one wrong hand movement and you’d have thrown yourself into a wall rather than your opponent. Which is why I still want us to focus on the basics, the movements and intentions of magic.” Meghan explained, pulling her tunic back over her head, hiding away the tattoos from sight. Iona nodded, understanding.

“Do there need to be so many? My father has magic and I don’t recall seeing as large a tattoo on him.” Iona asked. Meghan shook her head.

“No. The number of tattoos more reflects how much magic prowess a sorcerer will have available. I have a lot as I have studied magic a lot, I’ve more skill with it and access to it than even your father. Both his focus and your own will be more subtle as you both will utilise magic more as a defence than as a weapon or tool to lean on.” She explained.

“How big will mine be?” Iona asked and Meghan looked away, eyes narrowing as she pondered.

“It’s hard to say. It depends how much magic power you wield. Up until today I had been considering a subtle focus, perhaps your shoulder blade, or thigh. Now though, with the spell you managed to access without a focus, I see I underestimated the power held in the Ravellan bloodline. We will have to find out together.” She answered after a moment.

“What about the design? Is it tied to the magic you cast in some way?” Iona continued, seemingly endless questions were burning within her mind.

“No. Mine is a white oak tree and branches purely because of my name. The designs are a personal choice, it’s the ink they are made with that really matters. Perhaps you can think on what yours will be.” Meghan replied with a light laugh, as if amused by Iona’s question.

Iona opened her mouth to ask another of the thousands of questions, but Meghan held up her hand.

“Let that be enough for today’s lesson Iona. There’s enough to ponder there for you, and you do need to rest, to recover your strength.” Meghan told her before she slowly looked Iona up and down. “And maybe have a bath too.”

Iona’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and she quickly moved to the standing mirror in the room’s corner. She gasped as she looked into the reflection.

The Iona that looked back at her looked like an entirely different person to the princess that had left the palace that morning. She still wore her armour and shortsword, though the tan leather was now stained a deep brown with mud, ash and blood. Her flaming orange hair was a mess of tangles that was mottled with dirt and grime. Her pale skin was almost completely covered with the same mixture, except for a few patches here and there and several tear streaks that ran down her cheeks. She hadn’t even realised she’d been crying.

Most of all though, what Iona noticed was her hands and forearms. They were completely red, stained with dried blood. Alyx’s blood, Iona quickly realised. It must mostly have come from helping treat the injuries.

She stared at herself in shock for a long while, until Meghan’s reflection stepped into view behind her.

“Alyx is strong. Very strong. And you’ve done so very well in getting her the help she needs. She’s going to be fine Iona. But while she gets there, you need to be fine too. It helps all of us help her, if we know you’re taken care of too.” Meghan told her gently, lifting her hand to place it on Iona’s shoulder. “Rest.”

Iona sniffled, she could feel tears coming again. But she nodded, briefly moving her hand up to hold Meghan’s to her shoulder for a moment.

Meghan stepped away, moving back towards the door. As she put her hand on the latch to unlock the door and leave, she looked back up towards Iona.

“I want you to know. Even though I’ve just lectured you about being careful, Alyx is alive because of what you did. And you’re both alive because you stuck to your training. I’m very proud of both of you, and I know your father will be too. Well done, Iona.”

Iona could only stiffly nod, but the words spread across her wounded heart like a soothing balm. Then, when the door clicked shut behind her mentor, Iona sank to the ground in front of the mirror, and for the first time since the fight in the Oasis had begun, the Princess of Aldiron allowed her adrenaline to slip away let her fear and anxiety and relief and pride wash over her like a wave and she began to sob.