Chapter 30 FIRST SHIFT
“That's good, My Lady," Imogen said, a satisfied smile on his face.
Haven exhaled shakily, her fingers still trembling as the once-broken glass mended itself on the table before her. The cracks sealed with a faint shimmer of gold light, leaving the surface smooth and whole again.
She stared at it, half in awe, half in disbelief. “It actually worked…”
“It did,” Imogen said, nodding approvingly. “You’re beginning to understand the flow. The power obeys intention, not emotion.”
Haven’s lips curved in a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say.”
The mage chuckled softly. “Perhaps. But even you must see the difference. Earlier this week, you could barely lift a pebble without shattering it. Now look.” He gestured at the mended glass, the faint golden glow still fading from its surface. “You’re channeling, not fighting.”
If only she could say the same about her heart. It had been a week after the encounter with Auren in the bedroom, and she had barely caught a glimpse of him the whole week. He left hours before she woke up, busied himself with court matters the whole day, and returned to bed hours after she had gone to bed.
She should feel happy that he was giving her the space she wanted, but something tugged at her heart. Something she couldn't name.
Ever since that night, since Auren’s voice had whispered against her skin, since the bond had flared like wildfire in her veins, she hadn’t been able to focus.
She tried busying herself with lessons and practice, but every lesson, every breath, every heartbeat felt heavier, tinged with the memory of his nearness.
“Focus, Haven,” Imogen said gently, noticing her distant stare. “You’re drifting again.”
She blinked and forced a small nod, lowering her gaze to the next object—a porcelain figurine with a missing arm. “Sorry. I’m just… distracted.”
“Distraction is the enemy of control,” Imogen said, stepping closer. “If you allow what you feel to dictate your power, you’ll destroy more than you heal.”
The words struck deeper than he knew. What you feel.
If that were true, she thought bitterly, she would have burned the entire palace to ashes by now.
Taking a slow breath, she reached out again. Her fingers hovered above the figurine, a soft hum building in the air. The glow returned—warm, golden, and alive. The missing piece on the table quivered, rising slowly, drawn by invisible threads.
“Good…” Imogen murmured. “Now guide it, don’t force it. Your mind controls the whole thing. ”
She used her mind to guide the arm back to the main piece. The fragment attached perfectly, as if it had never broken. The glow faded, leaving the figurine whole once again.
A small smile touched her lips. “I did it.”
Imogen gave a curt nod. “You did. But remember, it’s not about mending objects, it’s about balance. Your power responds to your core, to the steadiness of your mind. You must learn to calm what rages within you, My Lady.”
Haven’s throat tightened. “And what if the thing raging inside me refuses to be calmed?”
He studied her quietly for a moment, his expression softening. “Then perhaps it’s not meant to be calmed, only understood and controlled.”
Her gaze fell to the table again, to the glimmering remnants of golden light that lingered like fading embers.
Understood.
But how did one understand a fire that burned every time he looked at her?
Imogen turned toward the shelves, gathering a few old scrolls. “You have the gift of creation, Haven. The power to restore, to heal, to bring life where there is ruin. But such a gift demands discipline. You must learn to command your emotions before they command you.”
She nodded faintly, though her thoughts were far away, back to Auren’s eyes, his voice.
Imogen turned back, holding out a small vial filled with shimmering dust. “For practice. Mix a pinch with water before your next session. It will help you center your energy.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking it from him. Their fingers brushed, and he smiled faintly.
She rose to her feet, and dusted her dress. “Thank you for the lesson, Imogen. I'll see you around." With that, she turned around and walked away.
\~~~
Draven descended his wyvern and a guard instantly took it to the stables. He was exhausted and desperately needed rest.
“Dragons riding dragons," Lyra's voice made him look up, and there she was, walking towards him. She folded her arms and scoffed. “How ridiculous.”
" You should be in the gardens with the other women. The stables are no place for a girl.”
Lyra rolled her eyes. " Why is that? If you can be here then I can as well “
Draven sighed in defeat. Arguing with Lyra was a waste of strength. She never backed down till she had made her point. In the past week, he had grown to like her, a little. She never missed a chance to pester him and ruin his priceless moments of peace.
“You should go back inside," was all the answer he gave her, before walking towards the palace. Lyra followed behind him, walking even faster to catch up.
“You know, you would actually be fun to talk to if you were not such a grumpy ass,” she said, falling into step with him.
Draven didn't respond. He didn't have the strength in him to. But Lyra wasn't one to give up, not when she had set her eyes on something.
She followed him to his bedroom, and slipped in before he had the chance to shut the door. Draven let out an exasperated sigh.
“You shouldn't be in my bedroom. I need to change and go see the king," he said, his tone dark and filled with something that wasn't tiredness
Lyra paid no heed to his words and rather laid down on his bed. “Nothing's stopping you from changing. Trust me, I've seen better things than whatever you're trying to hide."
A lock of pure shock and horror flashed across Draven's face as he stared at the girl who was supposed to be a minor. “Are you sure you are seventeen? Your mother did not give you the wrong date of birth or something?"
She laughed and sat up, her movements drawing his attention to her body.
Again, she wasn't dressed in the fancy lace attires all the other females wore. She wore a black shirt over a black pair of pants that had several pockets, and a pair of black boots. Her hair as usual was in a single plait like it bored her.
She didn't look seventeen, not with the curves and the mature look on her face.
“I'm not seventeen," she replied, rising to her feet. “Not entirely though. I'll be eighteen in two weeks."
" Until then you are a minor, and should stop saying things not meant for you.”
Lyra sighed and rolled her eyes. " God! You're such a bore.” With that, she moved past him and out of the room. Draven watched her leave and shook his head slowly. Lyra would be the death of him one day.
\~~~
Haven sighed for the umpteenth time as the teacup shattered beneath the force of her magic. She stood facing the window, the evening sun pouring through the window, bathing her in a soft orange.
She had been trying to perfect her mending skills after she finished her riding lessons. The first two tries were successful, but everything went South from there.
“Careful, My Lady,” Nerisa said from where she was folding clothes by the fireplace. " This is the sixth one today.”
Haven let out a frustrated sigh and turned around. " I know, Nerisa. I just can't seem to get it together.”
" But you did so well during the lessons earlier this morning.”
" That's the thing,” Haven turned away from the window and threw her hands up in surrender. "I was able to focus until I wasn't. I don't…” The sharp pain that pierced through her body had her stopping mid sentence.
It felt like a thousand knives were buried in her chest, denying her the ability to breathe. She fell to her knees clutching her chest, her breath coming out in short gasps.
“My Lady!!" Nerisa rushed to her, and fell to her knees beside her. She held Haven's hand only to discover her entire body trembling.
Haven had never felt so much pain in her life. It felt like someone had set her body on fire. The pain was excruciating and she couldn't hold back the screams that escaped her mouth. She felt her bones cracking, and her body changing to something foreign.
" Make it stop, Nerisa,” she cried.
The girl stared in shock as Haven's once green eyes morphed into slits of turquoise. Horrified, she didn't know what else to do but to get the king.
" Let me get his highness,” she said, rushing out of the room.
Haven laid on the floor, waves of pain shooting through her body like blood that kept her sys
tem going. The last thing she heard before closing her eyes was the familiar whisper.
“It's time for you to face destiny.’