It was the kind of magic you died for.
I released my blood and my body and my magic to the gods as I gave the final casting of my life.
I gave my all… for him.
I only hoped it was enough.
I wasn’t a hero, but at that moment, I could be the girl I wanted to be.
I could save the boy.
And so I did. And as that last gasping breath took in an intoxication of violet and ice, I lost myself to the end.
And then?
I was free.
19
Last Stand (noun): a selfless act. The act of pain casting (see “Categories of Magic”) in its rawest form. To invoke so much pain it takes one’s life. This form of magic is reserved to only those with the ability to pain cast.
The power behind a mage’s last stand is only as good as its caster. The level of potency depends on one’s established stamina prior to the act. The magic invoked in one’s last stand isn’t inherently logical; however, if the person casting has developed a high level of control over pain in the past, they stand a better chance at invoking the casting they want.
Most recorded acts were performed by mages under the instruction of commanders during war, a sacrifice for the rest. Because the act is fleeting and final, our scholars are still attempting to study the full extent of this casting. It is possible there are some effects and/or facts yet missing from our account.
So this was death.
It felt different than expected. To be fair, I had never expected to feel anything. From the stories of the Shadow God and his realm of lonely souls, I had never expected to experience thought. So the idea that I was conscious and could feel… It was both a blessing and a curse.
Perhaps it was more of a curse.
The things I felt… they weren’t pleasant.
Whoever said pain left you after death, well, clearly they had never died. Because I felt everything.
There was an inferno in my chest. I was on fire. My lungs burned up from the inside, and jolts of hot, piercing agony ran up and down my spine. My mouth tasted of ash.
And then came the memories.
I hadn’t known the dead retained them.
I wished we couldn’t.
More than the pain, it was the memories I wanted to stop.
Why would one wish to live out an eternity remembering everything they lost?
I hadn’t lived out the happily ever after my parents promised. Not even close.
Here? Forced to feel? I was bitter and angry.
I was going to spend the rest of eternity regretting the life I never got.
I took a ragged breath, cursing the hot air that burned down every inch of my lungs.
Wait.
I can breathe?
What else could I do?
My eyelids fluttered open and a blur of color overloaded my sight. Flashes of color and faces. So many faces.
It was right then I started to hear. Voices. Familiar and excited. Some of them were shouting my name.
They were so far away, but they were here.
Were they real?
My heart thundered in my ears and spots danced before my eyes. It was all too much. I couldn’t handle all of my senses overloading me at once.
Time ceased to be.
*
The next time I regained consciousness, the room was quiet and there were no faces to see.
I was able to adjust to the darkness and silence much easier than the noise.
It took close to an hour just to accept this was real.
A room. Not a shadow-filled realm. Familiar and cold. Rough, gray stone and a single window lined with bars.
I lay on a bunk made of pine. To my right was a small dresser lined with vials of all different colors and sizes. Some of the labels I could read; from what I gathered, they were for healing.
Was I truly alive?
I flexed my fingers and toes, and immediately regretted it as a fresh, biting pain swept over the subsiding ache from before. I definitely hurt. And from the bandages wrapped around my chest and hand, I suspected I wasn’t dead.
How?
Something was wrong.
I had cast my last stand. My life had ended there in that cavern made of ice. If I was alive…
Had I made a mistake?
Gods.
Was—No.
No.
I would not accept that.
I’d died for him. If the rebels had found a way to save me, if my casting hadn’t worked, then they would have saved him too. Alex and Ella would’ve made sure he was alive. For me.
So why was I so afraid?
Even though I felt like I was ripping every muscle under my skin, I pushed myself off the cot and went to the window instead.
Just as my suspicion led, I recognized the familiar landscape below. Flickering torches and fortified walls. The remains of a recovering forest just beyond.
I was back in Ferren’s Keep. And from the number of tents and men milling on the ground, the Crown’s Army and rebel force had returned to Jerar.
Was the war over?
Is Darren—
I staggered out of the room with my hand sliding along the rough granite for support. I needed to find him. I needed to find someone.