5. Lora
Lora
After a restless night and a drawn-out farewell to Father and Vela, Erion and I set off upstream—the same route we’d taken from Blightlands.
Excitement surged through me as I channeled my water wielding into the hull, pushing against the current. I’d heard stories about Six River City my entire life and had always longed to see it for myself.
The excitement bled away with each push against the water. Forcing boats upstream was always an effort, but with the added weight of a passenger, it drained me faster than expected. As sweat gathered at my temples, I laced my veins with a touch of cold, lowering my body temperature.
Erion wiped his brow and squinted at me. “Aren’t you hot? I’m roasting, and you’re the one doing all the work.”
“I’m cooling myself with cold wielding.”
“Oh…” His brow creased. “How do you do that?”
“I’m not sure.” A smile curved my lips. “It just comes naturally to me.”
He stared at his hands. “I have no idea how to use my moon wielding.”
Unease flitted through me at the thought of losing my powers. Most people were born without magic, but to me, forgetting how to wield seemed as dreadful as forgetting how to walk.
“What about the water,” I said, pointing at the river. “Can you feel it?”
“Feel it? What do you mean?”
“Reach out with your mind and sense it.”
Frowning, his gaze fixed on the current. “I’m not sure… maybe?”
“What does it feel like?”
“Like… something large moving beneath me.”
“That’s good! What about the temperature? Can you sense it?”
He shook his head. “Everything is just wet.”
“Close your eyes and focus. Reach down to the bottom of the river.”
His face scrunched, then smoothed out. “Oh—I feel it! It’s cooler down there!”
Pure joy glittered in his eyes as he opened them.
A crooked smile spread across my lips. “That’s it. You just need to take it slow, and you’ll rediscover your powers in no time.”
As we moved upstream, I kept giving him instructions, encouraging him to practice sensing the water’s temperature.
After a candlemark, we reached the fork.
Upstream would lead us back into Blightlands, but today we veered onto the distributary.
The current caught us, sweeping us downstream, and the relief in my muscles was immediate.
I could finally rest, only needing to steer the boat clear of rocks and river bends.
The journey smoothed out after that. We stopped in a village for a hot meal at a cramped tavern before pressing on. By evening, we docked at another settlement and took cots in a large room shared with other travelers.
After dinner, I led Erion to a nearby glade beside the river. Moonlight threaded through the branches overhead, spilling across moss-covered ground in silver streaks. The air smelled of damp earth and night-blooming flowers.
“As a moon wielder,” I said, “you can wield water.”
I pulled water from the river, gathering the swirling mass into the shape of a rift-hound—the ash-maw I’d killed yesterday.
“And you can make things cooler, to the point of freezing.”
I fed cold into the liquid and froze it solid. The ice sculpture gleamed in the moonlight, sharp and lifelike, fangs protruding from a snarling mouth.
Erion stared in wide-eyed wonder at my creation.
“Then there’s shadow wielding.” Smiling, I pulled tendrils of shadows across the ground, making them twist and writhe like living things. They rose and thickened at my command, wrapping us in complete darkness.
When I let them fall, Erion had inched closer.
Smoldering intensity burned in his hazel eyes. “You’re amazing.”
Heat crept up my neck as I waved him off. “I still have a lot to learn. And healing, the last moon power, is one I can barely use at all.”
“Even so,” he breathed. “You make it look effortless.”
He looked at me like I was the brightest star in the sky, his hazel eyes wide with disarming honesty. A flutter stirred in my belly, but I crushed it beneath a mental heel.
Whatever he was searching for when he looked at me like that, I could never offer him. My life belonged to protecting those in need, giving others what Mother had given me. There was no room for anything else.
Swallowing, I took half a step back. “It’s not effortless. I’ve just had more practice.”
He cleared his throat, scratching his neck. “I feel like I have a mountain to climb before I reach your level.”
“You know the best way to conquer a mountain?” I grinned, giving his arm a playful shove. “One step at a time. Come on, let’s start with something simple.”
Circling my arms, I demonstrated the basics of water wielding. “Imagine your hands are waves.” I caught a portion of the river, lifting it high. “Move like you’re dancing with the water.”
He just stared at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. Then he blinked and shook his head, as if pulling himself from a trance. “I’ll never be able to move like that.”
I let the water fall back. “With that attitude, you sure won’t. Come on, try it!”
Sighing, he waved his arms, more flailing than flowing.
“No, no, come here.” I grabbed his hands, weaving my fingers between his. “Let’s do it together.”
His lips parted, then closed as I guided his hands to follow mine, gentle and flowing. His stiff arms resisted every movement.
“Relax!” I playfully shook his arms.
That earned a laugh from him, and some of the tension left his shoulders.
“Good, let your body flow.” I guided him through fluid motions.
He was still as rigid as a pole, but his arms loosened a fraction.
“Perfect! Now see if you can make the water move with you.”
He faced the water, but his clumsy movements yielded no results. I kept encouraging him with gentle instructions.
After almost a candlemark, he’d managed little more than a ripple across the surface.
“Drowning stars, Lora!” He dropped his arms and turned away. “I just can’t do this.”
His frustration mirrored my own, but I couldn’t let him give up. He was too tense. He needed to lighten up.
I twirled my fingers and wielded a handful of water at his back, soaking his tunic. He spun toward me, eyes wide.
Grinning, I pulled up more water and sent it splashing against his chest.
His eyes lit up as he dropped to his knees beside the river, scooping a handful and tossing it in my direction. It barely reached me, and laughter bubbled out of me.
A smile split his face as he plunged his hand into the river and hurled another spray—but this time the water soared in an unnatural arc and hit me in the face.
My laughter stopped. I stared at him, blinking through the droplets.
Then I laughed again, surprised and bright. “You did it! You wielded water!”
He rose, staring at his hands. “I did, didn’t I?”
“That’s it! You need to have fun. That’s the key to teaching you to wield again.”
Giggling, I sent another splash of water at him.
He raised his arms to shield himself, but he didn’t retaliate. His gaze locked on me, wonder glittering in his eyes, like I’d just handed him the moon itself.
I frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” The corner of his mouth tipped up into a crooked smile. “It’s just… you have a lovely laugh.” He glanced away, color flooding his cheeks.
My heart kicked against my ribs as I turned away.
At times, I’d peg him as no older than seventeen. But when he flashed that charming smile of his, I could swear he was at least a few years my senior.
He was cute. Endearing. Handsome even. And he looked at me like I was something precious. My heart fluttered at the thought.
No.
I couldn’t let this happen. Getting tangled in messy feelings would complicate everything. He was my mission. My responsibility. Helping him was my way of honoring Mother’s sacrifice. I couldn’t let myself be distracted.
Memories of that day flared like scorching flames through my mind. How my mistake, my cowardice, had led us into sun territory.
I’d been fifteen, a few months into following Mother on my first hunts, when we came across a monster no one had encountered before. A bloated, twitching thing, walking upright on two legs. Its belly had split open in unnatural spasms, spewing a writhing mass of knee-high, skittering creatures.
Terror had seized me as those pale bodies surged toward us, too many to fight off with our moon magic. I forgot all training and fled. But they trailed behind, gnashing at my heels. When I finally outran them, I’d crashed straight into a group of sun guards instead.
They’d laughed and jeered, circling me while debating what to do with me. One argued they should bring me back to their camp. But another pressed a knife to my throat and leaned close with a cruel smile, claiming they deserved to have some fun first.
Without thinking, I’d snatched the blade, twisted it around, and sliced it across his face—forehead to chin, straight across his eye.
Mother had caught up just as he’d shouted for the others to kill me. She’d encased me in a desperate ice sphere and shoved me toward the river with a mighty push. The current dragged me back into Blightlands while she stayed behind to hold them off.
Her agonized scream as the man with the bleeding face set her ablaze still haunted me, reverberating deep in my bones.
Guilt and shame writhed in my chest, bitter and achingly familiar.
I refused to let her sacrifice be in vain. I had to make it mean something.
Gesturing at Erion to follow, I strode toward a lantern at the edge of the village. “Why don’t we see what you can do with that sun wielding of yours?”
The sun stood high in the sky as we glided through massive gates arching over the river.
I stared up at them, breathless. The sheer scale of the capital dwarfed everything I’d ever seen.
Buildings towered three, even four stories high, stone facades carved with intricate moon phases.
Bridges crisscrossed overhead, linking towers and streets in a web of stone.
Erion’s eyes widened like mine, his head swiveling to take it all in.