She understood why Casimir chose this chamber. With a ceiling so high, Akadian could wield all he wanted and have plenty of space for his flames to wreak havoc.
Ambrose swept her hand and her twister spread its wisps to every corner of the chamber, extinguishing his flames.
Akadian wasn’t deterred at all. He threw them at her again as her wind pushed back against it with every strike. She couldn’t bring herself to wield an Element that could hurt him. She’d defend herself as she found a way to get through to him.
“Listen to me,” she begged.
For every time he channeled, she countered it with a gust of wind that pushed his fire back. His rage mirrored itself in his flames as they came hotter, faster, bigger. Making it more and more difficult for her to counter in time.
She cried in pain as she missed his next attack and his flames licked her arm and neck, burning the exposed rotten flesh. Screaming, she hit the ground on her knees and forced a gush of wind from her fingertips but it barely touched the flames as her mind couldn’t focus on anything but the pain.
Such pain.
The collar around her neck seared as it heated under his flames, burning the skin underneath. She gripped it tightly and tried to pull it away from her skin but the metal just burned her fingers, causing her to yelp and pull them away.
This couldn’t be happening.
She couldn’t fight Akadian.
She wouldn’t fight back.
She wouldn’t hurt him.
Ambrose tossed her sword to the side, it’d be useless in this fight. She’d never get close enough to strike him and even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could.
She had to remove the illusion.
At any cost.
Ambrose focused her mind the way Magnus had taught her that day in the courtyard. She imagined what she wanted to see and pushed the image of what was really around them into Akadian’s mind. He roared and fell to his own knees, clutching his head as he shook it violently. She pushed through the fog that she felt curled around his mind, a shimmering violet haze that she grazed with her magick and begged it to release.
To give him back.
She tried everything she could to erase the tainted image in his mind, to show him what was real.
To show him the truth.
“Get out of my head!” he bellowed and ran towards her, hands outstretched.
She couldn’t let him reach her. If he caught her again, she could consider herself as good as dead. She willed her body to respond. Demanded it.
He was faster.
One hand reached for her chest, wrapping around the chains connecting her collar to her corset. She planted her feet, kicking up and away from him, the force of it snapping her chains to pieces as they fell off and broke away.
“Casimir!” Akadian’s fury rolled out of him as he lunged for her again, determined to get her back in his grasp. The fire in his eyes a clear threat that— if released—would burn her alive. Blood dripped from his wounds and splattered the floor but his injuries didn’t appear to slow him even a little.
She twirled her body and missed his next advance, but only just.
How he could keep fighting with all his wounds was a true testament to the power of the royal class. He moved as though no amount of pain couldhold him back.
She needed to put more distance between them. She scanned the room for anything she could use that could defend herself against a royal, but all she saw were weapons she’d have no chance of using and couldn’t bring herself to, even if she could. The room was empty aside from the chair and devices that had been used to torture him.
No window.
No door.
No escape.
