Celeste

  My body ached.

  My muscles screamed like they’d just woken up from the largest muscle spasm they ever endured. I tried taking a deep breath, but instead, my body seized up. Using what little I had left of my Healing ability, I soothed my muscle spasms along with the hole in my leg.

  A charred black mark, the size of my fist, stretched across my left breast from where Jacque held me in place with his electrocution.

  The spot was healing slowly, along with the rest of my body. But I didn’t have the power or luxury to keep healing beyond the point of simply being able to sit up. Once I was finally well enough to focus my eyes, I looked around. Teresa was dead. Half her face was torn apart and her head severed. Everyone else around me was dead too, except for three men.

  Teresa had been the kindest to me in the group, but only because everyone else was worse. That didn’t stop her from torturing me, or from turning a blind eye here or there when some of the men would take me into the woods…

  Earlier, I’d heard commotion behind me while locked in the fight with Jacque and Lance. From what I heard Teresa say, I had an inkling that someone else had jumped into the fight. I pieced together that we had unexpected company from how all the attention shifted.

  When I moved my focus back to the three men still standing, nearly bisecting one another, Jacque’s back was now facing me as he advanced toward the other two.

  That’s when I caught a glimpse of the stranger who decided to throw himself into this fight. I didn’t know if he was friend or foe, but right now, he helped kill a few of my captors – and that earned him a pass. I’d figure where he stood later… assuming Jacque and the last swordsman didn’t kill him first.

  At this distance, my Ardor Light wouldn’t be able to pierce Jacque’s skin. Even if it could, it would drain me completely just to fire that far. I tried to stand, but my legs buckled beneath me, and I collapsed to my knees. My body was still weak, still recovering from the electrical hell I’d endured earlier. Nerves fired beneath my skin, muscles twitching with leftover static. Even breathing felt like the air itself was biting back.

  As I fought to stay upright, I kept my eyes locked on the three men. Jacque was closing in, hand raised, ready to fire another charge.

  But then, the strangest thing happened.

  Just as he released the attack, the stranger jerked, yanked by an unseen force, and was hurled backward. His cloak snapped as he tumbled through the air before slamming into the dirt and rolling to a stop.

  I blinked, stunned.

  One moment he was standing his ground, the next he was flung like debris in the wind.

  A scream ripped through the haze. It was the other swordsman.

  Jacque didn’t stop. Didn’t even glance my way. He was already moving, charging the intruder with brutal focus.

  My mind scrambled to catch up.

  Finally, I snapped out of my stupor. My body lurched forward on shaking legs, each step a fight, momentum dragging me a few paces closer.

  Close enough.

  My fingers twitched as I summoned what little energy I had left. Another Ardor Light kindled in my palm. Jacque was fixed on his target, blind to me closing in behind him.

  Six yards. Near enough to strike.

  I raised my hand – and faltered.

  What if I waited? If I let him fire first, the stranger would almost certainly die. But Jacque might fall with him. After everything he’d unleashed tonight, one more charge could break him. Maybe slow him long enough for me to finish it.

  The thought tempted me more than it should. If I waited, I could conserve what strength I had left. I could let Jacque burn through the last of his energy, then strike when he was weakest.

  He wouldn’t see it coming. I could draw it out. Make him look me in the eye. Let him know it was me. That I lived. That I survived.

  The idea slid into me like poison dressed as relief. Killing him slowly. Watching fear take him before death did.

  He deserved that.

  The hate I carried for him wasn’t sharp anymore.

  It was heavy.

  Cold.

  Settled deep, like it was part of my spine now.

  Jacque broke pieces of me I was still trying to recover. But he wasn’t alone. Kaelen and Davos were right there too. Smiling, laughing, passing me between them as if I were nothing. They left more than scars. They left me hollow.

  They deserved to suffer. They deserved their names erased, throats slit open, cocks cut off... worse.

  Much worse.

  And yet, despite everything in me screaming for revenge, I didn’t know if I could let someone who might have been trying to save me, die.

  But sparing him didn’t mean I trusted him. Once this fight was done, I’d have nothing left. No strength to fight again. And I still didn’t know who he was or what he wanted. He’d cut down my captors, yes, but that didn’t make him an ally. For all I knew, he was clearing the way to claim me for himself. Rescuer, abductor, it made no difference.

  If I fired now, it would be my last burst of strength.

  And if I collapsed after, I’d be helpless.

  Jacque raised his hand, power building. That was all the time I had.

  With my right hand, I channeled every last ounce of energy I had, condensing the Light until it was no bigger than an eye. I fixed it on Jacque’s back...

  And released.

  The beam punched through him with force and heat.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  For a heartbeat, I saw daylight on the other side. Ardor Light burns viciously, but it doesn’t always cauterize. Blood spread in slow, blooming waves, soaking the back of his shirt.

  He turned, slow, disbelieving, until our eyes locked.

  I smiled as my legs gave out, dropping to both knees, too drained to stand.

  I was still able to meet Jacque’s eyes as he glared at me with the hatred of a man staring at his brother’s killer.

  If I had the chance to do it all over again, I would’ve made him scream first.

  They had captured me because I could Heal. That was my gift, and the only thing that made me valuable in their eyes.

  Most Casters hurled Fire or bent Water, but not me. I was rare. A “regenerating investment,” one of them had joked.

  They kept me breathing, kept me alive, because someone out there was willing to pay a fortune for a girl who could heal others and who couldn’t die easily, no matter how badly they broke her.

  And so they didn’t hold back.

  Beat me. Starved me.

  Again and again, knowing I would recover. That I couldn’t die unless they allowed it. I was nothing but a commodity with a heartbeat.

  There were others imprisoned beside me. Some beaten, forgotten. But none of them were touched the way I was. I took the worst of it, not because I was weaker, but because I could survive it. Pushed my body further than any normal person could take, knowing it would always mend. Every bruise, every broken bone, every violation - I Healed... and so they never stopped.

  I knew they planned to sell me. Dress me up, bind me in chains, and deliver me to some collector who’d keep me as a living trophy. That was my future.

  Until something in me changed.

  The first time I summoned Ardor Light, it burned through my skin like liquid fire. I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t even release it, I just felt it.

  On one of their usual nights, Kaelen and Davos dragged me from my cell into the woods, out of sight of the others. I braced for the hell I knew too well. Then something inside me ignited.

  The Light tore out of me before I could think, slamming into Kaelen’s chest. He dropped without a sound. His knife hit the dirt and I snatched it, turning on Davos and driving the blade into his eye before either of us could process what happened.

  Barefoot and bleeding, my body half-shattered, I ran-

  The sound of an explosion snapped me back.

  Jacque came flying toward me, hurled by some unseen force. He hit the ground hard, skull caved in, blood and smoke rising from what was left of him. Gurgling. Sputtering. Dying slowly.

  I hoped he felt every moment of it. If I’d had the strength – and no stranger to worry about – I would’ve taken his sword and driven it through his groin. Not to kill him, but just for the satisfaction.

  He sputtered his last breath, and then I was left with the stranger. Just in time to help... but far too late to trust.

  Was it bad luck that he arrived after the fight was nearly over... or did he wait on purpose?

  He walked toward me. I stayed on my knees, too weak to rise. We both knew I couldn’t fight. And he knew I was at his mercy.

  As he stood over me, I finally got a clearer look at him. Pale grey eyes, so light they were almost white. Looking into them felt like staring into something not entirely human, like an ethereal force reaching in, ready to strip me bare. His dark auburn hair was tied back, though loose strands had fallen across his face in the chaos of battle. He was clean-shaven save for a faint line of stubble that traced from his ears around his mouth. A tattoo curled along one arm. Silver glinted at his ear.

  If this were any other situation, I might have called him handsome.

  Right now, I called him a threat.

  Unfortunately for me, I had no way to defend myself.

  Then he offered me his hand.

  “I appreciate the assist,” he said.

  I hesitated at first, but then I took it, letting him haul me to my feet.

  “Glad you finished him before he decided to shoot me again,” I muttered dryly. “Kind of disappointed I didn’t kill him myself. But I’ll survive.”

  Standing, I noticed he had a few inches on me, probably more. If this turned sour, I knew exactly how it ended.

  He didn’t look winded in the slightest, though his hair was a bit undone from when he flung himself backward and tumbled across the ground. A few strands clung near his face, and his clothes slightly rumpled from the fall. But there was no strain in his movements, no heavy breathing. Whatever energy he’d used, it barely scratched the surface.

  Thinking about it now, I wondered what kind of Caster he was.

  I swore I seen him Cast Wind to propel himself away from Jacque’s strike. But what was that explosion earlier? As far as I knew, there wasn’t a Casting art that made a body erupt like that from a punch.

  Unless he was more than he seemed…

  Unless he was like me.

  An Aberration.

  “So, you’re an Aberration," he said, as if he already solved me.

  My stomach dropped.

  Shit.

  I’m not sure how he figured it out, but it put me in a dangerous position. Aberrations weren’t just rare – they were condemned. Some saw Aberrations as tools to use, weapons to dissect, or pets to cage.

  “I know you’re an Ardor Variant,” he said, glancing at the scorched bodies. “The holes kind of gave it away.”

  He stepped closer. “But you’re also a Healer, aren’t you? You bounced back too fast. Most people cooked half to death would be face-down by now: either dead or begging for it. Yet here you are. Still standing. Still breathing. And after all that, you had enough left to fire off another blast.”

  He gestured lazily toward my leg. “And that arrow wound? You’re not limping anymore. Almost like it’s healed.”

  A grin tugged at his mouth. Cool, mischievous, a little too pleased.

  I couldn’t bullshit my way out of this one. The truth was obvious. So I shoved the spotlight back on him.

  “You’re an Aberration too, aren’t you?”

  His smile widened, amused. “Now what make you say that?”

  If we were pretending to be honest, I’d keep going.

  “You used Wind Casting earlier to dodge Jacque’s strike. Then you blew his head apart with something I’ve never seen. And Teresa…” I swallowed the memory of blood, torn flesh. “You may have cut her head off, but her face told another story. Whatever ripped through her – that wasn’t your blade. That was something else.”

  He stayed silent. But silence can say plenty.

  “Whatever you did to Jacque, you did to her too. So why didn’t her head burn like his did?”

  A soft chuckle slipped from him.

  “Wind and Fire together makes an explosive force." He paused, “as for the woman – Teresa, was it? That was a large piece of Ice."

  He tipped his head, almost amused. "You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Fire. Wind. Ice.

  If he used Ice, that meant he could Cast Water too. Four elements.

  I shifted, uneasily. “I’ve never heard of an Aberration casting more than two elements... yet you cast four”

  “Well,” he said lightly, “Ice is basically Water's party trick.”

  Incredulous, I didn’t even know how to respond. Yes, Ice was technically a branch of Water Casting, but very few could ever reach it. And here he was, brushing it aside like it was nothing.

  I wasn’t going to feed into his smug satisfaction with awe or admiration. He knew what he’d done was extraordinary.

  So, I didn’t correct him.

  Instead, I asked the only question that mattered.

  “So, what’s next?”

  What was to happen to me now, because I had only one thing on my mind: getting the hell out of there before any stragglers showed up.

  I didn’t know how many were after me. For all I knew, this was only the first wave. Maybe they sent more after me to drag me back in chains. I killed two of them and slipped into the night like a rat.

  I thought I escaped. I thought I’d outrun them. But clearly, I was wrong.

  I might be hard to kill, but if they caught me again, it wouldn’t matter, and I’d rather die than go through that again.

  I needed to keep moving.

  His smile faded, replaced by something closer to seriousness. And damn me, but I almost missed it. He studied me for a few seconds, then finally spoke.

  “Nothing. I came and did what I wanted to do. Now I’ve got a rabbit to eat. From here, we can part ways. I wish you the best of luck.”

  ...That was it? A little anticlimactic, but probably the best outcome I could’ve hoped for.

  And yet… I’d expected more.

  As he turned back towards the woods, I started to think. Thanks to his flashy entrance there were no horses nearby, they all bolted the moment that explosion shook the ground.

  And I could barely stay on my feet, let alone walk leagues through this cursed forest and into the next town.

  My exhaustion was bone-deep. I didn’t have the strength to do anything but sit down and wait for my body to recover. Even if I did have the strength to cast Healing, fatigue was beyond repair.

  At most, I could’ve forced a little energy into my leg, enough to dull the bruising. Maybe cleared the burnt skin around my chest from Jacque’s last attack. But that was it. The rest would take time.

  And time meant waiting and resting.

  Only problem was, all the food I had was buried beneath my dead horse, and with the other mounts scattered, there was nothing nearby to scavenge.

  No bags. No supplies.

  I glanced up as he was still walking away, his silhouette shrinking as he climbed toward the wooded hills.

  I raised my voice, the effort scraping my throat.

  “That’s it? You help me kill men you don’t even know, and you won’t even give me your name?”

  He turned, that grin sliding back onto his face like it had never left.

  “My name’s Artemis,” he said. “But you can just call me Art.”