16. FIFTEEN

FIFTEEN

A fter crying in Leilani's arms for over an hour, Davina finally arrived home. She looked down at her armor, wondering how she was going to make it disappear. She hadn't thought much about wearing her armor in front of Leilani, but she knew her family would be scandalized if they saw her in it. Which was the usual reaction whenever it came to anything that involved Castellum. In mere seconds, the armor silently shrank over her skin until it was completely gone.

Davina stood dumbfounded with her arms extended in front of her. "What the—"

The armor disappeared with just one thought. She wondered whether it would reappear at her mental command as well.

A second later, the armor spread over her figure again.

"Okay, no, go away."

The purple armor disappeared.

She pushed the chipped wooden door open, thank Magnar the door was open. Then put the wooden bar back into its latch. King Magnar's words replayed in her mind as she stepped foot into the living room.

I know you won't, my child.

The King chose her as Captain, and he believed that she would succeed. She sighed.

That's probably not what Ron thinks.

Ron probably believed that she would get herself killed in battle. Then she also saw the misery in his eyes as he watched the others manifest his powers when nothing flowed out of him.

How was Ron going to activate his powers if he only ever talked himself down? He couldn't see his potential. Davina also struggled with these thoughts as well. So, she understood him to a certain level. The trials for their armor had been harsh but she didn't consider it a reason to give up on the war.

She couldn't help but remember all those thoughts that came to her before she activated her powers, thoughts that told her to throw herself off into an ice volcano. She recalled those moments when she would leave her own arms scarred because she hated her life. Those midnights that seemed never ending where she'd cry herself to sleep as she felt herself dying of frustration. All that misery went away when her hands ignited with purple flames for the first time.

Was that what he was going through?

If he was, then he was going through it alone and she was too naive to notice it sooner. She recalled the time on Sadoc's roof when he'd called himself horrendous. Then when he kept arguing about not being able to protect her in war because of his dormant abilities.

She passed through the living room and headed to the middle hallway, where her room was. But Davina was met with Nico, who was sitting by the new kitchen table. The torchlight illuminated his bloodshot eyes. Davina gulped as she noticed his deep frown of distaste.

"Davina," he said.

"Yes, father?" she asked.

How she hated the thundering in her chest and the fear that forced her eyes to look away from her stepfather.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I was at Castellum, father. I went on some simple errands that required for me to spend more time outside of home," she explained, kicking herself mentally for over-explaining.

"Your mother told me that you were not home all day and she required your help cleaning the kitchen and the bathing rooms," Nico said. His questioning enraged her. "And that Genevieve and Emmy were fighting again today, and you were not there to discipline them. They're your sisters, it is your responsibility to educate them."

Davina loved Micah, Genevieve, and Emmy so much. So much that she was fighting a war for their safety, but her parents weren't aware of how much she would be sacrificing for their wellbeing.

"They're my sisters, not my kids," she snapped, immediately regretting it. Davina breathed in. She would not give in to his provocations. "Sorry, father. I meant to explain to you how we're doing something new and different at Castellum. It's going to help me with my powers."

"Castellum, Castellum. That's all that comes out of your worthless mouth. We raised you to be better, Davina. You were supposed to come home and help your mother." Nico raised his voice.

Davina remained still with a clenched jaw.

It was as if they expected her to stop her entire life so she could fulfill their temper tantrums. Even when she was present, she could never be enough for their expectations. Despite being the obedient, quiet, good, and role model of a daughter, they were never happy with her.

"You're just like your mother."

Hopefully, Mae was listening to his trash-talking and come in and defend her. Would Mae help her? Would her mother come in to rescue her?

"Like your grandmother."

Whenever she spoke up, she was punished. She was judged as the hypocrite and as the unstable one. She had to remain silent.

"Like all the other crazy women from your dirty Almenara bloodline."

Once, she wanted to prove them right after trying so hard to prove them wrong. She remembered the days when she ignored them, she chose to reject them as they had rejected her. For quite some time, it felt so nice to have some form of revenge for her pain. Then the kids paid the consequence as their explosion burned their perfect innocent skin. They bore scars because of her, and she would never forget that.

"You know, if I would've known that I was going to have you as the heir of the Elio's, I would've seen a way for you to be sent off with your grandmother Rose, however, there's not much we can do now," he sighed.

The Elio family, Nico's family, was not that wealthy. She was not going to be inheriting anything with value. But she couldn't help but raise her brow at the mention of her grandmother. "What do you know of my grandmother?"

"I don't know much, only that she's lost in the hole of her miserable life somewhere far away from here. I'm thankful for the distance because she won't be contaminating my children."

There was her chance to meet her grandmother.

"I honestly don't understand why you're wasting your time away in that castle," Nico exasperated.

Davina reminded herself why she was fighting to become a better warrior: the kids and Mae. Because as much as Mae broke her heart a million times, Davina loved her mother. Davina held on to the distant memories of when it was just Mae and Davina. No Nico.

"I'm doing this for all of us, not just for myself. With all these accidents happening—"

He slammed the table with ignited fists. Small flames fell onto her cheek. She sucked in a breath as the sparks burned into her skin. Her eyes watered yet she refused to let the tears fall, biting her lip harshly.

"No, you don't get to do that! You don't get to cry or to be mad. You have no right you ungrateful little brat. You're doing this as your revenge against me and your mother. You don't get to judge us for our mistakes!" he yelled as he rushed to stand, towering over her.

The cups over the table rattled as he pushed the table away from himself.

Davina had not been mentioning anything about their poor choices, but she knew he was reacting this way because he was too immature to deal with his own mistakes. He went around blaming the whole world yet never assuming the fault himself. There were even times when Nico blamed Davina for the issues at home. Nico would say that she was the one who always said the wrong things, that she was the one who always exploded, that she was the problematic one, and that she didn't serve to be a Soldier for Bellatorm.

Nico knew he messed up. Not once and not twice, but many times. And that is why he blamed her. Because blaming others will always be much easier than putting aside one's pride.

Davina wondered whether Mae and Nico were like this with her because Davina's biological father had left when she was a toddler. Perhaps Mae was a neglectful mother because Davina bore a similar face to the man who abandoned her. Was Nico like this because of that too?

Mae didn't come out of her room. Her heart broke as she realized how her mother left her at the mercy of her abusive husband. Why was she even surprised? She'd had disappointed her countless times in the past.

Hot tears singed her eyelids, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"You know what? You can go ahead and cry and be mad at me all you want because I'm tired of this. Of you!" he yelled, standing right before her face.

The knife in Davina's heart twisted. He was using her pain against her. No matter how much her tears were fighting to spill, she held them back.

"I know you treat me this way because I'm not your daughter," she muttered.

"Shut it with your lies. I've always put you above my own kids," Nico spat. He turned away from her, heading toward the hallway.

Not once has he done so. Just because he married her mother with Davina being born from another man? Because he barely put any food on the table?

"Your actions don't tell me that!" Davina yelled.

"I have given you the clothes that you have on your back, and I have fed you. That was not my duty to do so as you do not have my blood in your veins. You have no right to say I have not treated you as my daughter."

"Then tell me why you and my mother are the reason for my afflictions?" Davina's voice cracked.

His face twisted even more with anger. "You are exactly like all those spoiled snobs you hang out with."

"You don't even know them."

"I don't need to know them to know that you're worse."

Davina walked past the kitchen, toward the hallway, then she stood next to him. She looked into his hazel eyes. "I hope the numerous scars that I carry in my heart are worth your pride."

Nico's eyes held a question for her. Davina took a deep breath before walking away from him and into her room, making sure to lock it before plopping on her bed.

She had just had another argument with Ron, and now Nico.

The burns over her cheek throbbed. She'd have to tend to her wounds tomorrow. Dreams of living with Leilani rushed into her mind as she wrapped herself in her blankets.

The next day, getting up from bed and helping her mother clean was difficult with the pain of the burns over her cheek and neck. Especially because she remained sour for her mother having allowed Nico to burn her. Davina did her best work to cover her marks with a powder that Leilani gifted to her long ago, she had never found use for it before.

She felt a bit better after having received word from a Basalan messenger that let her know that Cara's activation ceremony would occur that night.

After a full eight hours of sleep, she realized that she didn't wish to keep her friendship with Ron strained because of their different opinions about the war.

Davina wouldn't be at peace if she were to desert her position as Captain and stand on the sidelines, whether Bellatorm and her family appreciated her efforts or not.

Davina prepared a small basket filled with his favorite: soft chocolate chip cookies and two jars of milk. Hopefully, the cookies would sooth his stubborn beliefs for her choice to fight in the war. Yet it was a way to make up for all those times she exploded on him. She could've been more patient, and she hadn't been.

She made her way to his house, basket close to her side. The manor that his parents built for him loomed ahead, each brick painted a deep fawn with many windows and balconies that hung above the front door.

She walked down the stoned pathway and examined the little garden of hibiscus flowers that were planted beside the path. She knocked on his door.

Moments later, he opened the door with a surprised look, paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes. The darkness of his home surrounded him completely. His hair was messy and his lips were chapped.

Raven loved the darkness, like the one that seemed to live in his demeanor.

"Hi." Davina smiled.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Ron asked with a small grin.

"I thought I'd come by before heading to Castellum," she informed.

"That's out of the ordinary, even for you." He chuckled and stepped back, pulling the door open.

A woman in a brown kirtle and a white apron rushed past Davina and into the hallway to her right. From where Davina stood, she was able to have a small glimpse of the servants rushing around the kitchen with platters and utensils in hand. "You lot hurry your bums. Mister Levina has a guest!"

Davina chuckled at the maid's commands to the other servants. Ron may have been living without his family in his manor on Auris Island, but he surely had amazing servants who took care of him.

He lacked nothing except the powers he desperately wished for.

"That's Portia. My parents would work a lot when the restaurant first started. She's been serving my family since I was a child." Ron chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck.

He didn't have to say anymore. She understood.

"She seems like an amazing woman." Davina smiled.

Ron's gaze lingered on her before he cleared his throat. "As much as I enjoy you surprising me today, if I may ask, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk about yesterday," Davina began. He furrowed his brow, causing her palms to begin sweating. "I brought snacks." Davina lifted the basket carefully with a shy smile.

Ron chuckled again before playfully rolling his eyes. "Come with me."

Davina followed him out of the foyer, into the master living room. A wide two-piece glass door centered before the mahogany davenport. Dark brown bookshelves were lined with hundreds of leather books. The paintings that hung over the beige walls were all colored with different shades of brown and gray.

It seemed like she was visiting Mistral Island. But it also looked like it was a slap on the face of everything he couldn't be. What sort of joke was this? Had his family picked this setting, or had he?

They sat on the davenport. His stare was piercing through her walls, once again. Shyly, she placed the cookie box on his brown coffee table. "I'm sorry for the way I exploded. At the library and yesterday. It was uncalled for and I don't want my temper to get in the way of our friendship."

"Okay."

That was all he was going to say?

Davina fidgeted with her fingers. "And about the argument yesterday, I hope you can come to understand that I want to do this. I need to."

He began to shake his head.

"I know it can be hard for you to understand. But I need to do this for my family. Your parents and your siblings, they go to Castellum. They have their powers activated," Davina began. "You grew up having this practice cultivated in you, but we didn't."

He spoke no word, yet his sigh confirmed that their conversation would be tumultuous. She stared at him as he set his elbows over his knees. Davina bounced her leg as she waited for him to speak.

"Please say something," Davina pleaded.

"You know what I'm going to say," Ron muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

No joke. No flirty comment. Nothing. She'd never seen him like this before. He seemed weird, different.

"What has your family ever done except treat you like the dirt under their shoes?" he asked.

"My siblings need me to do this," Davina said, then he began to shake his head. "I have to protect them. I need to do this for them."

"Who has protected you?" Ron's gray-flecked eyes bore into her soul. Flashes of her memories rushed back to her.

"While you begged Nico and Mae to stop fighting. Who held onto you while you hugged your siblings when your parents fought? Who was there? No one. No one, Davina, so I will never understand why you always put your own life on the line for people who have always treated you like garbage."

Her family was complicated, but it was her family nonetheless. She loved her parents despite everything they'd done. She didn't understand why she loved them, yet she did, and she couldn't deny it.

He stood and paced around the living room.

"Do you not believe me capable of making it out alive?" Davina stood as well.

"It's not that I don't believe you're capable," Ron said.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to protect you!" he yelled.

"I told you already, I know how to protect myself. I've been doing it my whole life," Davina argued.

"This is different!"

"Why?" She raised her tone.

"Because!"

"Because what, Ron?" Davina questioned.

"My fear is to find you dead."

"Then let me die!" Davina shouted.

Ron's eyes widened. "What?"

"Let me die if need be," she said more calmly.

His pale face reddened while his fingers curled in. A bolt of lightning ripped through his hands, landing on a vase above a table near Davina. Davina looked, with widened eyes, at the shattered porcelain that lay over the wooden floor.

"Do not say that ever again. Your life is precious to me, do not belittle yourself as if you were nothing," he muttered.

Davina would've given more credit to his words had she not been so surprised at the power that escaped from his hands.

Lightning. He had lightning as his ability. The King gave him an entirely new power.

"When did you find out that lightning was your power?" Davina asked.

"Yesterday, when you left."

That was why she heard the thunder when she was flying to Basalt.

"Why are you fighting me right now, if you have this power inside of you?"

"Because I'm a freak, Davina." He sat down and set his hands over his face. "I don't know how to control it. What is the point of having this power if it won't manifest at my will?"

Davina slowly sat next to him. She put her hand on his shoulder. "You'll figure it out. Just like you always do."

"No, I won't. I'm a freak."

"You shouldn't feel that way about yourself. I see you as magnificent, just like you told me."

"Then why am I different?"

Davina read the look on his face. He wanted to be like his family, a true-blooded Mistran with the ability to wield air. He wanted to feel included, he wanted to feel normal. When she saw him as unique, he saw himself as a glitch. As a freak. An abnormality that would have lightning bolts escape his hands occasionally.

"You would rather be normal?" she asked.

Ron remained silent and looked away from her.

"What if the King gave you this power for a reason?" she asked.

"If anything, it's a curse from Raven," he mumbled as he played with his sleeve.

Davina's chest tightened, her lips parted. They were both different and he wasn't too happy with being different. She let go of his shoulder.

"Do you think my powers are a curse?" Davina whispered, her eyes pleading for him to deny what she was thinking.

His silence was enough of an answer. The same thoughts he had over his extraordinary powers, was exactly what he thought of her. He didn't think of her to be unique and special like she imagined he would. Like she thought of him.

"Each day that passes by, you continue to prove me wrong about every good thought I had about you," Davina said.

"Vivi—" he began, reaching for her hand. She pushed him away and stood.

"I have to go. Cara's activation ceremony is today. I suspect you won't be accompanying us," Davina stated calmly, avoiding his gaze.

Ron stood and began to walk toward her. "Vivi, I'm sorry. You know that's not—"

"I can't stay any longer, I must go. Enjoy the cookies," Davina said, still refusing to look at him.

As she walked toward the front door, opened and closed it, tears quietly slicked down her face.