Aria woke to freezing cold. There were flames all around her, the tower was on fire again, heat and smoke filled every corner of her prison. And yet, she felt cold. Cold and burning at the same time.

She attempted to move a finger and, to her surprise, succeeded. She did it a second time, moving all four fingers. The heat continued its rampage around her, but the burning filled her with a sort of strength. She felt uncomfortable, and yet felt no desire to leave.

She flexed her fingers, trying to reach the cord around her wrist, but failed. In frustration, she pulled her wrists apart and was surprised to see the rope break apart. It fell onto her lap in several pieces and began to burn, its prior protective enchantments now gone.

Aria rose. At the same time, the flames around her began to subside, marking the end of the burning. She found herself standing taller, trying to catch the last of the heat before it was all gone, and sighing in disappointment when there was no more.

And she was still cold, though no colder than before.

Outside, the sun was high in the sky, but the surroundings were oddly quiet. She walked to the opening in her prison and looked down. The ocean remained, but its shore was littered with the carcasses of broken ships. Her position allowed her to see along the shoreline and a little upshore. The ground that she could see was covered in black lines, ravines criss-crossing the dirt like the lines of a spider’s web. She saw people too, but they were far fewer than they should have been and every building was either run-down or half-swallowed by a ravine.

She climbed onto the ledge of her opening and, before she could question the impulse, jumped down.

She landed on the ground below in a crouch. Despite its mess of holes, it felt solid under her. She rose to her full height and took a moment to inspect her surroundings. No one was close enough to see her; the shore was abandoned and the closest people seemed at least a mile away.

A crunch sounded behind her, like the sound of a boot on twigs. She spun around. At the same time, a wall of flame sprang from her, flowing in the direction of the wound and scorching everything in its path. It continued well past the waterline, burning the water, and only dying hundreds of feet offshore.

The culprit, however, remained untouched. He stood a house-length away from her as if frozen, horror and pain marring his familiar features. Achi.

“Aria?” He asked. “Is that you?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He asked as if he refused to believe it, not as if he was truly confused.

Aria tilted her head at him. She recalled that the thought of him used to bring conflicting feelings: grief, guilt, fear, longing. Now, all she felt was curiosity, and ice.

“You should be dead,” she said. “Did you find someone else to love already? I haven’t been gone very long.”

“Aria - you -”

He was staring at her face as if something was wrong with it. It could have been mere shock, but he was a god, not a village sheepherder.

Aria stalked over to the water’s edge and waded in, until she could see her reflection. The wetness felt cold and disgusting, but she gritted her teeth and bore it.

When the water was up to her knees, she bent closer to it and inspected the image that stared back at her.

The face was her own face, the one she had been born with, but it was marred by burns, scattered over it like islands on a sea map. Her scalp, as far as she could see, bore the same deformity. Islands of hair were surrounded by oceans of baldness. She resembled a deformed coconut.

That made her chuckle.

She turned back to Achi, who was still waiting on the beach with a devastated expression.

“I’m so sorry, Aria.”

“Why?” She smiled. “Because I’m not beautiful anymore?”

He frowned. He was confused.

“I -” He stopped and started again. “How did this happen? Why am I awake?”

What nerve, believing that she would answer his questions.

She trudged out of the water. The moment she was on dry ground, she instinctively sent a burst of heat through herself leaving her clothes and legs dry. Then, she walked up to Achi. She stood so close that a flash of fear shot through his face. He did not step back, however, not even when she put a hand around his neck and let her nails dig into it. She was gentle about it but he still flinched in pain.

She let a circle of fire form around them in case thoughts of escape had crossed his mind. He was only number three on her list afterall.

“Aria -”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “You’ll speak,” she said. “You’ll have time to explain why I should keep you alive. But first, you’ll tell me where your father is.”

To her surprise, he reached up and pried her hand off his neck. Spots of blood dotted the points where her nails had pierced him.

“My father is right behind you,” he said, face anxious but voice calm. “Touching me is always a sure way to summon him.”

She spun around and found his words to be true. Tivelo stood just outside her circle of flames, looking like a drawn bow, ready to fire at any moment. She could not tell if he was unable to cross the flames or merely waiting for her move. So, she stepped behind Achi and put both hands on his shoulder. Achi remained motionless, but Tivelo’s eyes narrowed.

Two carriages came to a thud behind them. Aria did not need to look behind her. Her magical sight had returned and she could clearly sense Garo, Alogun, and Chalik disembarking.

“Excellent,” Aria said, “Everyone is here.”