Chapter Eleven: Enter the darkness

King Nikolas sat on the throne, staring down at them.

Ayra got down on her knees and laid a hand across her heart, plunging her head towards her chest in respect.

"Rise, wizards." A commanding voice boomed.

Ayra and the others stood up. They bowed one final time before fixing up and facing him.

King Nikolas adorned a polished smile on his grey-bearded face. He sat back in his regal seat, spine straight and crowned head high. Ayra wondered how many years of royal learning it took him to master such a solid and unwavering court-trained expression like that.

His grey eyes regarded them with a steady coolness, a little grin extending on his creased, rugose face. Decked in long, golden and ruby robes, King Nikolas perched on his seat, looking every bit of the cherished King of the empire.

The royal insignia was embroidered onto the texture of his doublet--a gold woven design that represented a rose encompassed by thistles. Ayra could fairly guess that the same emblem grazed on the capes of the Guardians present here.

King Nikolas smiled down at them.

"Ah, the young wizards of Foxerall Academy." drawled out. "I hope your journey to Marvena wasn't too tiring."

"Certainly not, Your Majesty. It was a very comfortable ride." Ayra answered, blazing a smile.

Neslyn nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The carriage you sent for us was magnificent. It truly seemed like we were floating in the air!"

"Uh-uh." Valda droned before folding her arms and gesturing in agreement. "You're right about that. We slept like a newborn babe all the way."

Silence.

Ayra nudged Valda's side and Neslyn squeezed her arm.

"Y-Your Majesty." She included quickly before rubbing her throbbing arm.

Cressa snickered.

"I know you were a conceited little bitch but I see you do not have any manners either." She lowered her voice. "And to think you are a royal born too."

Valda clenched her fists and bit her tongue, battling to prevent herself from saying something vulgar before the King.

Ayra met Cressa's eyes and a beat later, they narrowed brutally at her unforgiving gaze.

"Have something to say, wizard?"

"I wonder what this behaviour of yours makes you, Cressa Theagen."

"An arrogant fool? Or-" she inclined her head, seemingly fulfilled by the wrath consuming the Guardian's eyes.

"Or just an immature little brat trapped inside a body with unnaturally powerful magic."

"W-Why you--" Cressa grit out, taking a step forward. Rydan quickly snapped an arm before her, trying to prevent her from staggering forward. Aslan shared worried glances between Cressa and Ayra.

"Do you have any idea who you are speaking against, you wizard?" She let out furiously.

"Of course I do," Ayra said smoothly. "I respect you as one of the Guardians and I acknowledge you as a fellow warrior. However, I can't say I'm very impressed with this behaviour of yours."

Cressa was clenching her fists, so tight that it looked like her knuckles would pop out any time soon.

"I won't let you verbally abuse my friend like that, " Ayra lowered her voice. "And I won't let you be a hindrance to this mission either. I will see it to success. With or without your help."

Cressa's eyes turned wide like a mad woman and she released a shuddering breath as if she was trying to rein in her burning animosity.

"How dare you speak to me like that. How dare--"

"Cressa, stop. Not before the Majesty--" Rydan wrapped his huge arms around her waist but Cressa was thrashing in his arms like a wild ox. Aslan was trying to calm her down but it was to no avail. Guards stepped closer, ready to jump in if everything spirals out of control.

A dim smoke emanated from the tips of her fingers, the skin slowly beginning to transform into those sinister veins. Ayra slightly bent forward and unconsciously stepped in front of Neslyn and Valda before releasing a blanket of cool wind around them.

But before the impending doom could befall them, a loud and boisterous chuckle glided towards them.

Everyone halted in their tracks before snapping their look towards the King.

King Nikolas had his elbow propped on the arm of his royal seat, the side of his cheek leisurely resting against his curved knuckles. With an amused expression adorning his face, he let out a series of chuckles at the sight in front of him.

Ayra bit her lip, bowing her head in shame.

She behaved like an insolent little brat in front of the King himself. Ayra shut her eyes close, wanting to smack herself in the head.

But with the way Neslyn and Valda were glaring at her, Ayra supposed she would be glad to do the deed herself.

"Such loud and energetic wizards." King Nikolaus exclaimed out loudly, followed by another series of amusing chuckles.

"It's been so long since I came across wizards like you." He smiled. 

Ayra lowered her head a bit deeper.

Shit.

"I apologise, Your Majesty. It was rather insensitive of me." Ayra bowed down.

"Hell yeah, it was."

Oh, how Ayra wanted to punch Cressa in the face.

"Cressa, if you don't shut up right this instance, I will wrap your veins around your mouth and do it myself," Rydan grunted in annoyance.

"You wouldn't dare." She hissed.

"I will help you with that, Rydan." Aslan joined in, his eyes colliding with Cressa's.

"Fuck!" Cressa said, slightly stomping her feet.

"Cressa!" Rydan shouted back at her.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

King Nikolus laughed yet again, seemingly enjoying their little banter. The wizards in front of him quietened down, looking sheepish at the King's reaction.

The smile on his face died as soon as it came.

Ayra and the others sucked in a breath and slowly, so slowly, watched King Nikolas's bright face shift into a pale one. His eyebrows furrowed together in unspoken and his hand flew towards his chest, clenching the fabric tightly.

When he let out a loud gasp, the silence broke.

"Your Majesty!" The guards that flanked his side immediately rushed towards him.

Neslyn instantaneously flew forward, pulling back the sleeves of her dark suit and directing her steps straight towards King Nikolas.

The guards stopped her but when she shouted and claimed she was a healer, they hastily pulled back.

Soft, pale glowing hands reached towards King Nikolas's shaking ones but when the tip of her fingers touched the skin of his hand, Neslyn loudly gasped and immediately retracted her hands.

Ayra's eyes widened.

"Neslyn, what--" Ayra and Valda promptly stepped forward but Neslyn raised a hand to stop them.

"Nothing. Nothing happened." Her wide eyes were fixed on King Nikolas, who was still convulsing in his seat.

She shook her head before releasing a soft, pale green light and clasping King Nikolas's hands in her own.

And just like that, Neslyn began healing the King.

Ayra and the others slowly watched as King Nikolas's heavy breathing gradually reduced to a soft, uneven pant. But Neslyn, Neslyn who has healed people for more than an hour's worth of time before, looked so, so drained of energy. So drained that Ayra began to worry.

Neslyn retrieved her hand back when she was done, appearing as though something sucked out all of her life's energy. She wobbled a little on her feet but immediately straightened up, plastering a reassuring smile on her tired face.

"All done, Your Highness. You're fine now."

"How will I ever repay you for this, young wizard." He breathed out, smiling weakly. 

"Take care of your health, Your Majesty. That is the biggest reward you can grant a healer."

He chuckled lowly.

"I suppose you're right."

Neslyn smiled kindly before turning towards the servants.

"Please take Your Majesty to his chambers right now. I'm afraid he needs some rest. I also strictly advise him to not indulge in any court duties at least for a day."

"Young wizard, I'm completely alright." King Nikolus rasped out, raising a hand in protest.

Neslyn settled her wide eyes on him before shaking her head, seemingly conflicted between denying him and lecturing him.

He smiled. "We have more important matters to discuss, young wizard. I'm sure you know the reason why you're here. It is certainly not to spend your power on a sick, ageing man like me, I believe?"

"Your Majesty, will you even give me a chance to refuse?"

King Nikolas just smiled back, saying nothing.

Neslyn sighed a moment later.

"I understand. Then please allow me to keep a careful eye on you, Your Majesty, just in case."

King Nikolus nodded his head.

"I would appreciate that, young healer."

Neslyn slowly strode back towards them. When she stepped closer, Ayra noticed that the hand she used for healing was slightly shaking. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. It was strange. Neslyn, noticing Ayra's gaze, immediately grasped it with her other hand, trying to stop it from shaking.

"It's nothing." She said lowly before Ayra could even ask about it.

"It doesn't look like nothing, Neslyn."

"Maybe I was just tired from the journey. It's nothing." She said and to Ayra, it sounded like Neslyn was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

"Neslyn, your hand-" Valda started.

"I'm alright, I'm alright." She said hurriedly, leaving no room for further discussion.

Ayra and Valda shared an uneasy glance with each other. But before they could say anything, a delicate voice floated to their ears.

"Dying? Who's dying?"

Everyone's eyes settled on the cloaked figure in the corner of the room.

"You can't do that," The Fourth Guardian murmured to no one.

"Because your father is still alive."

"Why, you ask?"

A heavy pause. The shrouded figure slowly tilted his head to the side.

"Because you're already dead."

A murky coldness licked down Ayra's spine.

Ryo, the Fourth Guardian, had been talking to the ghosts ever since she noticed him at the beginning. The Ghostsinger had his body bent and head down, murmuring and murmuring and murmuring sweet nothings to the ghosts that nestled around him.

Their naked eyes couldn't see the spirits lurking around him. Even Ayra's wind didn't whisper the secrets about the undead to her. If the soft brushing of Ryo's cloak or the way the ends of his fabric would levitate in the air from time to time was any indication at all, then Ayra knew for a fact they lurked around the small boy's silent body.

Aslan slowly stepped towards Ryo and grasped his narrow shoulders.

"Ryo? Ryo, that's enough." He softly said.

The Ghostsinger's head sharply snapped up to Aslan's face. Ayra felt the wind tense around Aslan as if the spirits around Ryo were furious at him for disturbing their time together.

"What happened?" The boy slowly asked.

Aslan smiled down at him. "You're scaring everyone."

Ayra shifted her gaze to Aslan, wondering why those words sound so alarmingly normal.

Ryo blinked but only replied with a soft,

"Oh."

He gently took Aslan's extended hand, wrapping his dainty hand around Aslan's big one. He straightened up and turned around to face them.

The fifteen-year-old Guardian standing in front of them looked angelic but something about his sharp, pale blue eyes made the hair on her nape stand up straight. His blue-black hair was a stunning contrast to his pasty pale skin.

The Ghostsinger looked absolutely inhuman and otherworldly.

It was rather strange, for a young boy like him to be positioned as one of the most powerful Guardians. But Ayra knew that even if this fact was indeed fascinating, no one, absolutely no one dared to question the Ghostsinger's powers.

Ryo softly bowed his head.

"I apologise for the turmoil I've caused, Your Majesty."

King Nikolas shook his head. "Young wizard, don't apologise."

Aslan stepped forward. 

"Your Majesty, if you may please, we would like to start the mission soon. I apologise if I'm being very rude right now but we are running out of time. And Your Majesty needs to rest too."

King Nikolus nodded his head.

"Yes, I suppose you're right, young Aslan. I do not wish to prolong the meeting any longer either. However, it's about time they arrived here."

Ayra frowned, pondering on who King Nikolas was talking about.

As if on cue, a flurry of footsteps travelled to the throne room and slowly filled her ears.

The wind around her suddenly roiled with tension, the magic in her recoiling back and deep within her.

She winced sharply, it felt like something was clawing the insides of her body. As if a slumbering beast had finally awoken.

"Ayra, what's wrong?" Valda questioned.

Her heartbeat increased and the inside of her palm started sweating. Ayra reined back on her magic but her wind was thrashing against her persistent hold as if it was desperately trying to move away.

The wind abruptly stilled.

And just like that, the feeling disappeared into nothing.

"Ayra?" Neslyn questioned, eyebrows burrowing with unspoken worries.

The footsteps got closer and closer, the sound seemingly increasing with every step.

Four figures entered the throne room.

And Ayra, who had her head drowned in confusion, didn't notice how one of the figures slowly and wickedly smirked at her.