Chapter 26 Emory #2
“My name is Emory Ainsleif. You might know me as one of the Aldryn College students who drowned in the Dovermere sea caves last fall. And you may have heard rumors that I am a Tidecaller. I’m here today to address these rumors.
” She paused, swallowing past the dryness in her mouth.
“I am indeed a Tidecaller—the Shadow reborn.”
The lie had her finding Sidraeus’s gaze, feeling her cheeks warm at the intensity of it.
They didn’t want to incite more fear by stating outright that the actual Shadow had returned—not when some of their own were still mistrusting of him.
And so, for now, they would play into the narrative that the Regulators had already put in place: that as a Tidecaller, Emory was in a way the Shadow reborn.
“And while I did not drown at Dovermere,” she continued, “I did journey into the Deep to find a way to restore magic to what it once was.” Another twisting of the story.
“Unlike what the Regulators would have you believe, neither I nor my fellow Eclipse-born are the cause of the problems our world is facing. As Tidecaller, I am the link between both sides, the bridge between lunar magic and Eclipse magic. And I’m here to tell you that it’s only by coming together that we can restore magic and fix our drowning world.
“Yes, I’m a Tidecaller, and my blood runs Eclipse.
But I was born a Healer of House New Moon.
My allegiance has always been to Bruma, and when I became a Tidecaller after experiencing a brush with death, that didn’t change.
If anything, I grew closer to Bruma—to all four Tides—because suddenly I was of all four houses.
Think of me as a mirror, reflecting the magics around me and making them my own.
But I do not steal that magic from lunar mages.
The same cannot be said for those in power who steal magic from Eclipse-born. ”
Emory paused, feeling anger build in her veins at the words on the page.
The thought that Keiran had been the one to start this, the synthetic magics made from the blood of Eclipse-born.
The thought that she had taken synths before, not knowing where they came from, how they were made.
It was sickening to think his legacy lived on in such a gruesome way.
She wanted to bring down everyone who partook in the making of synths.
“With the dwindling of lunar magic, synthetics are being sold to whoever can afford them. But these are not a solution. They are extortion, made by forcefully and illicitly taking the blood of Eclipse-born who are being held at Institutes. The silver blood of those who have Collapsed and were given the Unhallowed Seal. This is why Regulators want to keep Eclipse-born in their Institutes: to profit off our blood. This is why they criminalize Collapsing, why they tell cautionary tales about the Shadow’s curse.
But here is the truth: the Shadow’s curse is not real.
Those of us who’ve Collapsed haven’t fallen prey to some imaginary darkness.
We are in control of our power. The curse is a lie invented by Tidelore cultists and Regulators to make you fear us—to justify the hatred thrown our way and make Eclipse magic the scapegoat for everything bad happening in the world.
“But Eclipse-born are not the problem. We don’t want to hurt anyone.
We don’t want to sow more division. We simply want justice for our own, and for the world to be in balance again.
So instead of blaming what’s happening on us—on our very existence—ask yourselves who exactly is profiting off this imbalance and who is suffering for it.
Ask yourselves why professors and students from prominent colleges like Aldryn, Karunang, Ilsker, Sevstar, Awansi, and Frons have disappeared after voicing their support for Eclipse-born.
Ask yourselves why the Eclipse-born in your lives, be it neighbor, friend, family, acquaintance, have all been forced into the shadows, when the only other option they face is imprisonment.
Ask yourselves which side of history you wish to be on: compassion or hate. ”
Emory met Baz’s gaze as she prepared to utter the conclusion he’d been so adamant to write—words Clover had spoken once, he told her, that they would use again now, spoken by another Tidecaller, one who was a distant descendant of the Clover line.
Another reclaiming of the words of a man the whole world had once idolized.
“All magic is born equal,” Emory read. “There is no lunar magic without Eclipse magic, no sea without a shore, no Tides without a Shadow. So let us stand together, united against the tyranny of those who would tell you otherwise. Stand with us, and let’s heal our world together.”
A weighted silence—and then Vera clicked a button, and static drowned everything out once more.
“Right,” Virgil exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Enough doom and gloom and serious speeches for the night. I think this deserves a bit of celebrating, yes?”
Jae smiled. “There’s a few jars of moonbrew down in the kitchen cellars.”
Virgil’s eyes went wide. “Tides and Shadow bless you, Jae Ahn.” He looked at Sidraeus still hovering by the window. “What do you say, Sid?” The nickname earned him a murderous glare. “Sidraeus,” Virgil rectified with a nervous chuckle. “Your shadowy divineness?”
A muscle feathered in Sidraeus’s jaw, almost as if he wanted to laugh at the ridiculous form of address. But his mouth kept that disdainful curl as he turned back to the window, muttering something about mortals under his breath.
“Come on, cheery,” Vera said to an affronted-looking Virgil, leading him away as he moaned about no one ever turning him down for a drink before.
As others started filing out of the room, giving Emory encouraging nods and smiles, Jae clasped her shoulder gently. “You did good.”
“We all did,” Emory said, feeling a sense of belonging and pride flutter inside her.
All they could hope for now was that their message had been heard loud and wide—and that, like a small ripple forming in the sea, it would grow into a powerful, undeniable wave.