🎧 End of Beginning by Djo
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"She's 22? She's looks like a child," a bunch of kids questioned.
Looking done, she nodded, "She was arrogant and disrespectful like he said, indeed. Do it as he suggested, Robert."
Robert nodded and began to talk with the other 22-year-olds.
"What the fuck?" Gregory groaned at my side, overflowing with some strong magic, I would even go as far as to say he's the strongest 18-year-old here. He'll make the cut for sure, Rose would be proud. "Davina."
"It's okay," I hissed under my breath, stressed out of my mind.
"But they are doing this to humiliate you and,"
"It'll be okay, Greg," I reassured him. "I'm confident."
What is that bastard's deal?
How can he be so damn infuriating? What was this for? If he thinks he'll humiliate me like this, he's wrong.
He wasn't in my list of enemies, but there's a spot for him on it and I won't think twice before writing his name there. When I learn his name, that is, because so far nobody called him by it. Unless his name is Bastard, which would actually make a ton of sense.
"Ugh, she really is strong," Greg cried.
I blinked, focusing on him, "Who?"
"Thalassa," he groaned.
My eyes went to her, finding her eyes on me, "Expected, she was born a noble," ignoring her, I turned to him again, "and nobles are, unjustly, born different, just like true born royals and true born Imperials. The higher, the stronger."
He swallowed, "Were you there when the usurpation took place, all those years ago, for real, Davina?" His voice was a whisper.
"Yes," I nodded softly. "I saw it all happen."
"So, the… the Princess is really alive? Ravenna?"
A nod, "Somewhere, yes. She promised to come back for revenge."
He turned pale, "She did?"
"Yes, which is understandable, don't you think?" I scoffed.
"Of course, but, if she really is immortal, and she's after revenge, doesn't that means a war might break out? The Wintergrave true born heirs were always known to be an army of one alone, and if she's now immortal, she'll leave a trace of destruction wherever she is, no?"
"Yes, and?" I giggled bitterly. "They miscalculated and brought all the she'll cause to them, to themselves. It's solely their fault."
"Did you meet her? Ravenna?" He breathed.
"I did. Her and her baby siblings," I clenched my jaw.
"Do you think they are trying to find her too?"
I blinked, because I hadn't thought about that, "No idea."
"I heard a tale that the demon wanted all of her family's souls, do you think he'll try to come for hers?" He swallowed, hands shaking softly.
And the thought of that made me nauseous, it brought my mind to the demonic dragons all around us, the beast who brought us here, and the other beast who saved us from hitting the ground. Is that why they are here? Are the demons after me? "They can't get her soul, she's immortal," right?
"Why don't you sound as confident as before?" He cried.
But I didn't answer, not because I didn't want to, but because they all turned to me again, and I realized the only person in the coliseum who still had the anti-magic shackles on was me. And all of this felt suddenly too dangerous, but at the same time as this could be the case, I made an oath and I cannot go back on it. I have to be here, and I have to get my revenge.
"Now, the arrogant little thing," the arrogant bastard exclaimed.
"Raise your arms and spread your ankles," Robert told me.
"I would stay at least two meters away from me if I were you," I told everyone around me, but they didn't move and only mocked me. "Do it, Gregory," I told him firmly, and he was then the only one to listen to me. "Good boy!" Turning around to face the arrogant bastard, I rose my arm but I didn't miss the opportunity to give him both my middle fingers, "Ready," I mocked bitterly.
It all happened too fast.
The second Robert freed me from the wrists and ankles shackles, my magic that has been aggressively bottle up for the past 8 years, exploded and threw everyone that were in 4 meters ratio close to me, away, lifting my body that's now weaker than before, 2 meters off the ground, the wave of my magic expanding further than 10 meters to all directions.
But it felt different from when I used when I was 7 years old.
When it subsided considerably, it brought my feet back to the floor swiftly. I breathed deeply, closing my eyes to internalize my magic and clear my core from the disgusting anti-magic that had been blocking me, I bent down and vomited profusely, and all that came was dirty blood and the black thick oily substance that the anti-magic leaves behind. I forced my clean magic inside me again, cleaning my core a bit more than before, and then I vomited a bit more, this time way more dirty blood than the black oil.
"Fuck," I cursed, cleaning my mouth on the coat. "Disguising shit."
"What the hell?" Many cursed.
"What is that black thing?" Others cried.
I swallowed, feeling lighter, "That's anti-magic matter," I exhaled heavily. "It's harmful to your magical core, so you gotta clean it. This shit you call anklets and bracelets, aka shackles, are embedded in it, and it gets injected into your core, into your bones, weakening you, and blocking the use of your magic. That's why it successfully blocks it all."
"How do you know that?" Thalassa yelled at me.
"My father was a high rank knight of the Empress guard, Imperial knights had the obligation of knowing this, and he taught me when I was 5 to 7 years old, until the usurpation happened and him and my mom were murdered by your precious current fake Kings and Queens," I hissed. "So, are you satisfied now, you arrogant bastard?" I glared up at him. "Do I look like I was faking being strong like I claimed to be? Was what you called 'arrogance' in me, unfounded?"