Chapter Fifteen
Nova
“Mama says I need to learn to stay still. But why stay still when there’s so much to do and learn?”
“You weren’t wrong, she’s crazy,” I said as I scrubbed the plates from our late lunch.
Altair was at my side with a rag, drying them once I finished, not responding.
He’d been unnaturally silent since we’d come back to his cottage, leaving me on edge.
I’d immediately made sandwiches from the supplies Maitoza had given me, hoping that some food would get him talking, but even that didn’t help.
After eating, putting away the food, and now washing the dishes, I’d finally hit my limit.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you? You’re usually louder in the silence.” As I handed him the plate, our fingers brushed, a tingle vibrating my skin. Was he doing magic or something?
He must have felt it too, because he jerked his hand away from mine, causing the plate to crash to the ground. It shattered, the shards flying in every direction. Death hissed as she ran away from the mess.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Altair mumbled.
We both dropped to our knees at the same time, our foreheads colliding with a loud smack.
“Universe spare me,” I mumbled as I gripped my aching head.
“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing his own forehead as he reached forward. His skin was cold against mine, his fingers gentle as they glided across my brow.
“I think I should be asking you that. What’s going on? You’ve been weird since we got back.”
Altair seemed unable to look into my eyes, instead opting to slowly pick up glass from the ground as he pushed out loud breaths.
“Seriously, Altair, what’s wrong?” Still, he said nothing.
Sighing, I helped him finish cleaning the shattered pieces, trying to come up with something useful to say.
“I meant it when I said we’re allies, you know.
We obviously had a rocky start and we’ve both held onto a lot of prejudice, but I do forgive you.
I think you might be the only person in this world that I still trust.”
Finally, I got a reaction. His head whipped up, the shards in his fingers slipping back to the ground. His grey eyes were dark, nearly the same color I remembered Celeste’s being. His sharp cheeks and pointed nose were burning red, his lips parted.
“I trust you too,” he murmured.
“Then tell me what’s wrong. Did something happen?
Should I be worried?” Shaking his head, he looked back down, picking up the last few pieces and willing them away.
Now irritated, I decided to take a more direct approach.
Not allowing myself any time to rethink the choice, I grabbed his hand, wrapping it in mine.
“Okay, let me be more clear. I need you to talk to me. You’re my ally.
My partner, in a way. Whatever is coming, we need to navigate it together. ”
His eyes fluttered closed, his hand gripping mine back. Despite the soft gesture, his tone was scorching. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what? Dying?”
“No, not that,” he said, groaning. His face continued to redden, each word sounding almost angry. “I feared death my whole life, but the moment I killed Captain Zade, I wasn’t scared to die. If anything, I had long since been terrified to live, I just hadn’t realized it.”
Keeping my voice soft, I asked, “Then what are you afraid of?”
“Honestly?” he asked, the words a breathy scoff as he shook his head.
“Honestly. No judgment.”
“I’m afraid of you.”
A sharp laugh came out before I could stop it, the thought of Altair being even remotely afraid of me absurd. But Altair didn’t laugh, he only tugged his hand, trying to free himself from my grasp.
“Wait, I’m sorry! I just never thought I’d hear you say something like that. Please, I’m sorry.” Clearly not impressed with my poor apology, he only rolled his eyes. So, with my baffled smile still on my face, I tugged his hand towards me and said, “Help me understand.”
Eyes on our locked hands, Altair finally relented, his face pinching together into a stern expression. “I don’t have a lot of…friends. Really, the only ones I have are those I made from my parents. And I love them, I do. They’re the only good things in my life. Or, they were.”
I tried not to flinch or react, but I was accidentally holding our hands against my chest, and I felt the way my heart began to race. Nothing could have prepared me for this conversation. Even if I had been ready, I had no idea what to think or feel about it. Was Altair about to call me his friend?
“Maybe it’s ridiculous to say, but I’ve really enjoyed having you here.
And I guess I’m afraid of you going away.
Or turning into one of those thoughtless rebels who follows the commander without question.
Or…” I waited with baited breath, too afraid to exhale the air I’d sucked in.
“Or that you’ll decide I’m not worthy of being your ally and never speak to me again. ”
“You sure do love to surprise me.” Because what else was I supposed to say?
“Yes, I do.” He chuckled, his smile half-hearted as he finally looked back up at me, his body relaxing and the anger seeming to bleed from him. “Promise me you’ll give me a heads up if you plan to leave.”
It felt horribly wrong to lie to him as he stared so openly at me.
He’d been far more honest than I had any reason to expect—more than I deserved—secret rebellion aside.
But lying to him then seemed like the wrong thing to do.
So, I internally made a clarification, if only to alleviate some of my guilt.
“I promise.” As long as it’s what’s best. “By the way, you and I are attending the next rebel leadership meeting.”
Letting his head fall back, he groaned, standing up after. I followed, eager to put the strangely intimate and honest conversation behind us.
“Let me at least make myself some tea before you tell me how that happened. Coffee?”
Smiling, I said, “I’d love some.”
***
The books Altair had brought me were nothing short of incredible. They were more extensive than anything else I’d ever read, including the books supplied by Elite Academy. The reason was obvious to anyone who paid attention while reading.
These books were honest.
Despite the fact they were core books, they were otherwise invaluable.
The one I was reading, The Final War and First Gift, detailed out the beginning and end of the final world war on Dajahim.
It started with resources. One leader, Efram Jarste, began outright attacking a country rich in gold and livestock.
It was a small country often vilified for their worship of the land.
While everyone believed in and somewhat bowed to the stars today, it wasn’t uncommon to disregard them before the introduction of magic.
There was no proof, no undeniable sign that the stars were truly sentient, magical beings.
Still, the people of Iditra—the country that had a natural abundance of gold through rivers and mines—were not favored for their deep belief in the magic of their land.
When Efram Jarste began utilizing explosives deposited on Iditran land by his soldiers to brutally slaughter civilians, the war began.
Countries took sides. Gold was exchanged.
Entire civilizations fell. Death conquered.
When our continent—previously known as Alam Jadid—joined the fight, the Dremly King vied for total control.
We, who had the strongest military forces and the wealthiest system, quickly dominated.
It hadn’t been the first world war, but it had been the one that threatened to cause the extinction of all humanity on Dajahim.
So the stars showed themselves.
The magic didn’t trickle slowly into soldiers, it poured down upon them—raining over the very base the shaytan military still resided in. First thought to be a strange illness, magic eventually became an extraordinary weapon.
The text described how difficult it was to use magic at first, because there was no information available that taught the soldiers how important intent was.
Magic couldn’t be dictated by spoken words or conduits like fairytales suggested.
No, the magic that ran through their bodies bowed only to a focused mind.
Each soldier had to quickly learn how to speak intentions and hone their thoughts.
But once they did, blood spilled in waves. The entirety of the planet fell, leaving only the continent ruled by the Dremlys. The continent itself was separated into what were once called provinces, though that’d change to districts as magic became more prominent and the stars’ rule took hold.
The last interesting thing lay in the wording used to describe the cores.
Though the elite group of warriors that led the Alam Jadid forces were seen as heroes, they did not possess stronger magic or superior abilities.
In fact, they only became revered when the stars blessed them beyond that of the other soldiers, gifting them darkness in their veins.
Even then, they were never deemed rulers, for they were not of royal blood.
They were not seen as worthy of a crown.
How chilling, to read those words from someone who knew the truth of society and the world. A person who saw the core families for exactly what they were. I was quite sure the author hadn’t lived long after.
Lifting my gaze, I spotted Altair across the way, sitting at his table.
He had a burner between his pink lips, the pale wrapping starting to blacken at the edges.
Both of his brows were pinched together as he slid a sharp and jagged knife across a chunk of wood.
When I’d suggested he find a hobby, I hadn’t expected carving to be the one he chose.
Like always, he was unnaturally good at it.
We’d both agreed not to make any concrete plans until after we attended the rebel meeting, but I still wanted to be prepared for anything they might say. That was why I’d chosen that particular book. Any understanding of war was helpful.