Chapter 11: Training In Silence
This cold, weird silence wrapped around Nexi with shame and the chilling energy of Prince Kaelen.
Nexi sat in the middle of the bed and pulled the sheet to her chin.
She wasn't crying anymore. The tears had been replaced by a cold, hard emptiness.
Nexi looked at the silver sword stuck in the floorboards. It was Kaelen's…
"Your weakness is a danger to my mission. You will not be weak again…." His words echoed in the small, dark space.
Nexi knew he was right about one thing. She had been weak, and she was relying on a magical mark, on a man's cold calculation, on a locked door.
All those things had failed. The only thing Nexi had left was her own power.
"I need to train my magic," Nexi muttered in a quite desperate voice.
Her magic was healing, and it was quite gentle.
It was the antithesis of everything Kaelen and the hunter life stood for. Against the violence and the speed of men, her power was slow and internal.
She had to change that, the little witch had to make her healing fast, powerful, and ready for instant use. She had to make her gentle magic fierce.
Nexi slipped out of the bed. Her body protested every step…not letting her go.
Being covered in cold sweat, she pulled the simple linen tunic and trousers Kaelen's servant had left for her.
She walked to the door and touched the cold silver tip of the sword. It was still vibrating slightly from the force of Kaelen's thrust.
The witch had hours until dawn. She had to use them.
Nexi walked to the window. Kaelen was gone, probably on the roof, watching the tavern and the street. He was the perfect, relentless guard for his own possession.
Nexi sat on the floor, crossing her legs. She focused on the pain. The pain in her jaw and cheek from Joss's slap.
The raw, aching soreness in her shoulder from Tomas's punch. The deep, heavy dread and violation that settled in her core.
She usually pushed pain away, dismissing it as something to be ignored. Now, she embraced it.
Stretching out her bound wrists, where the rope had cut the skin raw. She focused her magic on the thin lines of pain. She pushed the green light into the raw skin. It was easy, and healed instantly. But that was a trick like a surface repair.
The little witch needed to go deeper, and so, focused on the deepest, most systemic pain: the exhaustion from the healing the hunters, and the hunger, and the shock of the attack.
Nexi closed her eyes and reached deep inside herself, to the quiet, cool well of power that was her magic. She pulled it up, fast and hard, like pulling a bucket from a deep well.
Fast, she commanded herself. Faster.
The green light pulsed around her hands, stronger than before. She pushed it into her whole body, flooding her own system with healing force.
She felt the dull ache of the internal bruises fading and that heavy weariness draining away.
This fatigue lifted, but the effort left her breathing hard, sweating. It took too long. It was too draining.
'I have to make it instant,' Nexi thought to herself.
She focused on her cheek. It was bruised and swollen from the brutal slap, and so, targeted the injury.
Nexi pushed the magic like a gentle flow. The bruise barely lightened.
She cursed quietly. "No. Not gentle."
Gathering her magic again, pulling it up, but this time, Nexi twisted it. She focused her anger, the icy rage at Kaelen for watching, at the boy for touching, at the hunters for mocking.
Mixing the soft healing light with the hard, sharp edge of her hatred.
She pushed the new, tainted magic into the bruise.
The effect was instant. There was an internal sting, like an electrical current. The bruise vanished completely, leaving the skin smooth and untouched.
But the effort was still too much. She gasped, feeling dizzy.
Nexi repeated the exercise again and again, pushing the speed, pushing the force… worked on her battered shoulder and on her tired legs. She worked on the paralyzing fear in her spirit.
Every time she succeeded in healing quickly, the exhaustion returned immediately. Every time Nexi failed, the pain reminded her of her weakness.
Hours passed. The deep blue of the night sky outside the window began to turn to a faded, cold grey.
And like that, Nexi was exhausted again, but she was different.
Her moves were bit more sharper, and her mind was clearer.
She had turned the gentle stream of her power into a targeted, immediate weapon of repair. It wasn't ready for a real fight yet, but it was trained.
Finally, Nexi allowed herself to rest, falling into a shallow, fitful sleep just as the first weak light of dawn touched the window pane.
The sun was barely up when a hard knock rattled the door.
"Witch! Rise! We move now!" It was Tomas's rough voice.
Nexi shot awake and immediately sat up straight, instantly alert. She looked at the sword, then at her wrists. She was already thinking three steps ahead.
Having no time, Nexi quickly dressed and opened the door.
Tomas was waiting outside, avoiding her eyes. The embarrassment of the previous day, of needing her healing, and the shadow of the poison accusation made him uncomfortable.
"The Prince is waiting downstairs. He said to bring you down immediately," Tomas muttered. He saw her face. The bruise was completely gone. He frowned. "You look…well."
"I had a good night's rest," Nexi replied as she walked past him without a word.