Page 53 of The Starlight Savior

He suddenly stopped, back shaking as he chuckled silently. His turquoise eyes peered over his shoulder as his gaze lowered in on Saige. “She’s yours, isn’t she?”

Suddenly, he tugged the handmaid up, pulling her close to his body. Saige leapt forward as Esme’s face came into view. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she contorted her neck as far away from Myles’s reach as she could get. But it wasn’t enough. She was shackled to the water-wielder, her body bruised.

“P-Please,” Saige shouted, kicking against the witch still holding her tightly, “don’t touch her! I’ll do anything, please!” Her skin burned as her light consumed her. She expected the witch to jump back, but only steam rose where the water-wielder gripped her.

“Too late,” Myles said before shoving his blade into Esme’s stomach.

Chapter 24

All Saige could hear were guttural screams. Time slowed as her gaze narrowed in on the pain shadowing Esme’s gentle face, the fire in her eyes dimming with every twist and shove Myles gave. Blood poured from her wound, darkening her handmaid’s uniform farther. As her body fell, she realized the screams weren’t coming from the traumatized servants.

They were coming from her.

“You bastard,” Saige snarled, flinging herself at Myles. But the hands grasping her shoulders tightened, sending pain down her limbs.

“We’ve traveled a long way, young witch.” Myles ignored the daggers in Saige’s gaze. “Snuck in through the sewers of the measly little village we’ve destroyed. It’s time to go home.”

The cuffs tightened as the witch pushed her forward. But she would not come willingly, leaving the servants to their death. They’d kill them all the moment Saige left this room.

But how could she fight through this? Their blades were enchanted, stronger than she had ever seen. The water-wielders had no remorse. They didn’t care for the lives of the innocent. Esme’s lifeless body was proof enough.

This would’ve been a great time for a storm-wielder to stumble in, discovering the enemy right under their nose. But Saige couldn’t rely on that. All they had were themselves.

Turning her head, Saige stared down at the helpless witches and warlocks peering back at her. She forced her gaze to lock on the nearly beheaded handmaid, her blood pooling on the stone and seeping through trousers and skirts. She turned to look at the warlock, wincing at the exposed wound on his neck.

And finally, she looked to Esme.

I hope knowing you’ll see a familiar face will calm the nerves.

The fire-wielder had tried her best to make Saige feel comfortable in an all-consuming world. But now she’d never return to Nasala to see her siblings. Instead, her life force would fade in Etrane. Her soul would descend, and be greeted by Caelum.

But at what cost?

Tiranos had come for Saige. If she had just complied, maybe no one would’ve gotten hurt. The servants wouldn’t be injured, mentally and physically. Esme would still be here, working for a life beyond fearing the mist.

It was amazing what beings of power were capable of. They could stroll in, claim that their intentions were necessary and just, and kill whomever stood in their way. They’d use their words, wants, and needs to justify death. Saige saw it happen all the time. When she was a girl. In the village square, bodies hanging from pillars. And even now. It didn’t matter whether magic flowed through their veins. Mortal, witch, or warlock, they slaughtered and stole and sinned.

Saige was exhausted. Tired of everything the strong and mighty robbed from the vulnerable and weak.

So she did what she knew best.

Steam pooled behind her as the ball of magic in her stomach ignited. Heat and light flooded her system, traveling up her body and down her arms. The cuffs of water began to dissolve under her touch, no match to her ancient magic. Whatever that meant. The witch behind her could barely register Saige’s arms moving up until it was too late. Her magic blinded the enemy, the witch stumbling back with a shriek. Balls of light outstretched from Saige’s hands, fueled by the anger and frustration of the repression before her.

Tobin told her she needed to feel. So be it.

Saige was falling into her emotions, tumbling further and further into her anger. How dare Tiranos march into a kingdom designated for sanctuary. For peace. And expect her to join them.

“Stop her!” Myles shouted as a wave of water tumbled towards her. A precise witch would use her magic to create some sort of wall or barrier. But Saige was still a witchling, untrained and unrelenting. In this moment, she didn’t need the control or precision that would one day work in her favor.

All she needed was power.

“Run!” Saige shouted at the castle staff behind her. If there was an exit, they’d be able to find it.

She screamed as loud as she could, imagining her magic consuming her. Eating away at every bit of rage burning inside. She outstretched one hand towards the water-wielders guarding their captured, hoping the heat and light scared them enough to retreat. A few handmaids stumbled to their feet, balancing uneasily with their hands bound behind their back. A warlock leapt from the ground. His head rammed into a water-wielder, creating an opening between them and the back of the kitchen.

Saige’s other hand faced the main exit to the servant quarters. Magic flowed through her arms as quickly and strongly as possible. She didn’t know what she was doing, but each time someone reached for her body, they shrunk back in fear.

She was a fiery ball of energy that could not be stopped. She just hoped Tiranos were the only casualties in her way.