Vireya's POV
A week passed in this icy hell. And if I'm being totally honest, it was not all that bad.
Sylien sent me to work far from the palace, about a day's journey by foot. I worked with a Mage in charge of regulating heat and hot water.
Mages, I'd learned, were lycans granted the power to use magic. They could harness any soul of their choosing and use them for spells. Unlike me, who got my magic as a gift after my mother died and she bestowed her soul on me.
It's said that their gifts were from the moon goddess, a way for them to survive the extreme hunts from centuries ago.
King Draven I'd learned, was a Mage. The most powerful Mage in the history of Maellys. It made me wonder how many souls he must have harnessed to attain such a title.
Not that I cared.
"Hurry up! At this rate we won't have enough ice for the day!" An annoyed voice snapped at me.
"Coming!" I shot back, lifting a massive block of ice off the ground and into a waiting truck. My movements were slowed by the layers and layers of clothing I wore, especially over my arms.
"Just one? Seriously, you've been here for a week and you've not learned how to be fast."
"I'm sorry, not all of us have the strength of a budding Lycan," I shot back bitterly.
My companion walked into sight. His name was Jesyn, and he wasn't a Lycan in full blood. He was a hybrid of werewolf and Lycan, something I didn't think was possible till I came here. He didn't have horns, and wasn't as tall or pale as them.
I'd have thought he was a normal werewolf.
His dark brown eyes brightened as he saw me, and soon he was by my side, helping me lift the ice into the trunk at a much faster rate.
"Did you hear what happened in the palace?" He asked.
Jesyn was my informant here. As I wasn't allowed to leave, he alone could go to other places. So I relied on him for any crumb of information I could find in this frozen wasteland.
"How did I hear it?" I grumbled.
With the trunk filled, we began to push it into the cave. "A high lord died. The palace has been in mourning since."
"Ah," I said. I still hadn't learned much about the lycan hierarchy, so I guessed a high lord must be the equivalent of a delta. "What killed him?"
"He was sick." Jesyn replied.
"Lycans get sick? How weak they must be! Even us werewolves never fall sick."
He laughed. "Don't let them hear you. Or you could lose your tongue."
Ha! So much talk for a species that claim to be the most powerful. Succumbing to a mere sickness. Weak. And their King has the audacity to call me pathetic. He should take a look at his people before pointing judgemental fingers.
Rude.
We arrived at our destination, a massive well dug in the centre of the cave, with thick stone pipes extending out of it. Standing at the foot of it with a thick leather bound book was the Mage.
Her name was Ophelia. Like all lycans, she was tall and slender, pale skin and hair almost white, with a stunning beauty to her. She had silver horns, and like King Draven's, hers had runes etched into them too.
All Mages have runes in her horns. I wonder what those runes mean?
She could turn ice into hot water, making her a very essential Mage in this place. I'm sure without her, those weak lycans will freeze to death.
We dumped the ice into the well and began pushing the truck back.
"Vireya," Ophelia called, her voice soft and echoing through the cave. "Head to the baths. You're summoned to the palace."
"What?" I gasped, turning around to face her. "The palace? What could they possibly want with me?"
She lifted her eyes from the book and shot me a glare. "Go and get ready."
Jesyn gave me a pitiful look. "My thoughts go with you."
"Shut up."
Being summoned to the palace can't mean anything good. King Draven said he didn't want to ever see me again. What if we cross paths and he decides to kill me?
I don't want to see him.
I don't ever want to see that barbarian of a king till the day I die!
***
By the time I was done being ready, I found Sylien waiting for me outside.
My mood instantly soured and I wished I could run back inside.
"You look well," He said with his signature smile I did not miss. "Ophelia must be a good master."
She was. Good at ignoring my presence, that is. She didn't hide her hostility, but she didn't hurt me either. And Jesyn was good company.
Which is why I don't understand why I have to leave.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, frowning. "I survived your hunt. Or wait, do you have another one planned?"
His eyes narrowed and his smile widened. "Such a disrespectful mouth you have. Still have that foolish pride, don't you?"
I didn't reply. There was no need to. I wished he'd just leave already.
Instead, he gestured towards something. My heart sank when I saw what it was. One of those beasts I'd hunted.
I shook my head, taking a step back. "No. I'm not getting on that thing!"
"You will. Or I'll knock you out and bundle your body anyway."
"You wouldn't!"
He tilted his head to the side, a silent way of saying "want to test that out?"
"You're insufferable." I hissed.
"You're on a fast track to having your tongue cut out. Watch your mouth."
As I took a step forward, a loud voice called out my name.
"Vireya!"
I turned to see Jesyn approaching with a small basket in his hands. He got up to me and dumped it in my arms. The sweet aroma of bread wafted up from it.
"In case you get hungry. I made it myself. I um...I remembered you liked salt bread." He said. Then he turned to Sylien and bowed. "My Lord."
Sylien didn't reply. Didn't even glance at him. His smile was no where to be found.
I held the basket to my chest, my heart feeling warm at his kindness. "What are you saying? Like I won't be back soon."
He laughed, rubbing the back of his head and avoiding my eyes. "Of course. Have a good trip!"
"Let's go now," Sylien said, his voice sharp and biting.
"Thank you," I said to Jesyn.
Waving goodbye to him, I turned and walked up to Sylien. He helped me get on the beast, then mounted behind me.
It felt no different from riding a horse, a really big, furry horse. I gripped it's fur tightly, scared I'd fall off.
My eyes were on Jesyn as the beast lifted off the ground. Okay, this was way faster than a horse. And how is it able to fly without wings? What kind of creature is this?
I had so many questions but couldn't ask any of them. The cold air whipped my face and made my eyes sting. But at least I wore furs now, and wasn't turning blue.
"Use both your hands," Sylien said behind me. "Else you'll fall of off."
"I'm fine." I said.
He sighed. I felt him lean over me, his chest pressing into my back as he reached out and snatched the basket from my hands.
"Hey!" I screamed out, reaching back for it.
He tossed it. "Use both hands."
I glanced at him over my shoulder, shocked. "How dare you!"
"Now is not the time to be—"
With a huff, I let go of the beasts fur, shot myself up, and lunged after the falling basket.