14. To the Goddess of Luck, Thank You #2
“After seeing how powerful genie’s order was, Aladdin formulated a plan to not only gain his abilities but become the most fearsome fay in all realms. There was a problem though.
Aladdin had a crush on another fay. One he kept in secret from fear of anyone else claiming her.
A princess. But her heart belonged to the one sworn to protect her father.
Aladdin asked for the genie’s assistance, and when he was declined on the premise that genies cannot interfere with true love, Aladdin manipulated the princess to hate the only fay she’d ever loved–”
“Bitch,” Kyra blurts, and I nod with agreement.
“Genie realized Aladdin’s goal, but it was too late.
Time had already expired for her father whom Aladdin killed, placing blame on the Princess’s true love, thus turning her against him, breaking her heart and leaving an unfillable hole as her guards cast him from the kingdom.
Using the genie as a puppet, Aladdin became the hero in her book, swooping in and ensuring everyone knew of her late lover’s crime. ”
“Damn, so he got away with that shit?” Passion and outrage shine from Kyra’s face as though I’m telling her life’s story. She is funny.
“The genie retaliated, feeling used in a way unbefitting of his kind. Or should I say tried. Aladdin was prepared for such treachery, taking over the genie’s mind and forcing him to relinquish the well of his aura, rendering the genie a mortal.
Tales spread far and wide of his heroism for releasing the genie, which gained the Princess’s favor, and they wed, living happily ever after.
But that’s not where the story ends,” I finish, finding Kyra’s gaze deadlocked on mine.
“What happened next?” she demands.
“It’s probably better coming from the source.”
Gesturing her hands in a hurried motion, she asks, “What source?”
“Their daughter, Yasmine, who attends here.” I smirk with a raised brow.
“Get–the–fuck out. For real?”
“Yep. She’s a second-year student, same as me.” I shrug. *Sip*
The space between us becomes quiet and neutral. Kyra stares into the distance, nibbling on her bottom lip and ignoring the beverage placed beside her. What is she thinking about? This silence is tortuous and…then I gasp.
My cup shatters into pieces as it strikes the floor. “Kyra,” I yell, standing in haste, knocking over the chair.
“See, I told you!” Her volume pings around the room as she bounces with excitement. There was no sign of magic being used. No words spoken or hand movements, yet she holds a photo that materialized out of thin air. I retrieve it from her jittering hands and scowl at the moisture coating it.
“How did you summon this?” I ask, glancing over the item that shouldn’t exist. “Why is it sweaty?” Gripping the corners and side-eyeing her, I see she is as dumbfounded as me.
I should be more excited instead of focusing on the ‘how,’ but in my hands lies a miracle. A poor representation of Yasmine.
“My palms get sweaty sometimes when I’m feeling antsy.
” She shrugs. “But I don’t know. Your version of Aladdin had me invested, so when it ended, I wanted to know what Yasmine looked like.
So I pictured a baby from Princess Jasmine and Aladdin.
” She shrugs once more, then returns to her excited bounce.
“I mean, it’s not perfect. Yasmin’s jawline isn’t this sharp, and her eyebrows aren’t nearly this thick, but…close enough.” I release a chuckle.
“Whatever. It’s not like I’ve seen her before.” She snatches the photo, letting her smile lift her cheeks as she stares in disbelief of finally proving the toilet parchment issue. “I’m going to try again.”
“Okay.” Stepping back, I allow her space. “If it helps, Yasmine has thin brows and soft features like most women.”
“Yeah, I get it. No need to beat a dead horse.” She squints and scrunches her nose.
“Why the hell would I go beating a dead horse? It’s cruel.” Frowning at her implication, I question, “Is that a mortal thing?”
Kyra exhales and pinches her lips. “It’s a figure of speech. I’m not telling you to actually beat a dead horse. And no, that’s not a mortal thing.” Sass wraps her response as her head shakes. “May I continue, please?” I nod, relieved my bestie isn’t psychotic.
She places the photo down and shakes both hands, glancing my way with a confident smirk before closing her eyes. We need this to work–I need this to work. Seeing how defeated she becomes with each night yielding no results, I can’t afford for this not to.
Seconds pass without results. Not missing the emptiness of her hands, she attempts once more.
Come on, Kyra, focus. Agitation blossoms over her cheeks, turning them a desaturated red as her breath quickens.
More time lapses and still…nothing. Hope has me locking onto her empty palms for a sign of anything.
Afraid we’ve missed our opportunity for her to remain at Rebirth, dread knots in my stomach, an ache of such hope beginning to smolder out.
“Kyra, it’s not working. We–”
“It has to,” she snaps. “You saw it; I made the picture appear out of nowhere. I can do it.” She frowns, and I become quiet, not sure what response is helpful.
With her vision remaining closed, palms facing upwards, and determination crinkling her brows, a faint red glow shines from the center of her hands. A photo materializes and blankets over both palms as the hum of her redden glow fades from existence.
I inhale deeply, being able to witness her magic, and the once smoldering hope explodes into a roaring flame of confidence. My blood pressure rises, ascending towards the sky like a shifted phoenix.
“Kyra,” I whisper, refraining from pouncing on her out of sheer exuberance.
She peeks between her tightly closed lids, and they burst open, revealing an equally shocked expression.
Her jaw slackens wide as reality crashes down, and a sense of ease relaxes her shoulders.
Kyra has magic, and without a doubt, both of us now know it.
“See,” she yells, sending Valirene’s winter bumps trailing along my arms while holding the image towards me and doing something mortals call a happy dance.
“I do, without a doubt this time.” Our smiles match, both wide and stretching. Grabbing the photo and noticing it’s a better version of Yasmine, but still poorly represented, an excited shriek leaves me. “You have magic!” To hell with being composed, I join in on her little happy dance.
“I knew it. Almost being eaten by a dragon must have awakened something. You can’t tell me I wouldn’t have been devoured had it not sensed it.
” She chuckles about it now. “It snarled and bared its teeth. All signs pointed to me about to be devoured. But then the beautiful beast sniffed me and that’s when it smelled my magic.
It wasn’t a dream and I know I’m right, Angie! ”
The other day Kyra returned in a panic, explaining an enormous, silver scaled dragon tried eating her right after dealing with Alex and Ethan.
I reassured her that if it wasn’t a dream, and indeed tried devouring her, there is nothing she could have done otherwise.
I also informed her that dragons have a high sense of smell and perhaps she was a bit ripe.
That didn’t go well, but she still insists her perspective is what happened. Hence the many text messages after.
We continue yelling at the top of our lungs, passing the image back and forth until reality hits me. We need to inform the others.
“Ethan.” Returning my composure, I continue, “He has to see this.”
“Hell no. The last thing I need is him ruining this moment.”
“Well, Alex isn’t here, and all things considered, this might help get him off your chest.” I reach for my phone.
“You mean, off my back? And he wants to kill me, remember. Or have you forgotten the many threats on my life?”
“That’s silly. The saying goes, get him off your chest, because of the pressure. Why would it be back?” My expression is mixed with a half frown and high raised brow. “And if he sees you have magic, he won’t lay a finger on you.” I smile.
She exhales, placing a thumb and index finger over the bridge of her nose. “Very reassuring.” I type out a message, hitting send, and my peripherals pick up a golden light appearing near the front door of her dorm room.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan says hurriedly as it vanishes, and I point towards the photo Kyra holds.
“First off, door, we’ve been over this. Stop appearing inside my room.
” Her eyes roll, and I clear my throat. Why is she stroking the bear?
“Second off, I’ll excuse it.” She peers over at me, and I understand this isn’t the time for confrontations.
“Thirdly, by yours and the Elders’ rules, I can remain here if my magic awakens.
Hence the photo.” She hands it over, pride straightening her back, causing her chest to puff as she retains eye contact with him.
His leer thins as he steps in her direction, retrieving the photo, understanding if what Kyra says is true, she is officially off limits.
He never breaks his promises. “Someone explain to me, why should I care about a photo? Furthermore, that contract expires today, and you’re interrupting the plans I’m making for later tonight…
Involving just that.” He smirks in a devious manner, in tandem with spreading his aura across the span of her living area, knocking over her chair and causing her to twitch in fright.
“Fuck you, get out.” She retreats a step and balls her fists. The spine of her back is no longer straight as terror contorts her features. “I told you, Angie, he can’t be trusted. We’ll just wait for Alex.”
“We will do no such thing.” Turning, I address him, “Ethan, look at the damn photo, or by the Gods, that secret stash of yours, consider it gone. Don’t tempt me.” Now look who is stroking the bear. My arms fold beneath the swell of my breasts, and scowling I prepare for extreme measures.