21. Lucina
LUCINA
Iremember the first time I stood in this room in front of these three women. Their stoic faces and perfect postures were intimidating then, but I’m not the same girl who stumbled in here weeks ago, confused and wide-eyed.
This is my third meeting with the Dianic coven, but it’s the first time I’ve been excited to show them what I’ve learned.
The Captain has been helping me with illusions over the last few days, and now it’s just living things that I have trouble replicating.
Those illusions require more memorization than others, like how the body moves, mannerisms, and voice inflections…
Light manipulation, however, is a whole other beast—the ability to steal light and mold it into whatever form I desire, fire, lightning, sun, and starlight. That will be my next feat, if I can ever figure out how to replicate a frog that doesn’t scream like a human.
“Begin,” The Dame says gently, pen poised above her paper, and Laverna folds her hands over her lap. Ceres is sitting next to her, a dull shimmer to her moonlit skin.
I look over to the Captain, who leans casually against the far wall. He’s dressed in more armor today than usual, with enough weapons strapped to him to make Kimber faint. The only encouragement he gives is a wink, then magic leaks into my bloodstream, and the entire room goes dark.
Lights flicker to life—no, not lights…stars, and every head in the room tilts up to the ceiling. To the galaxy I’ve created there.
Every star is a replica of the many I’ve memorized over the years: Lune Sylra, Nyxora, Thalvar…burning in the same way we see them every night.
I pour more magic into the illusion. I weave endless space between the mass of stars in plumes of hazy smoke.
I carve the moon into a crescent and place it across the room from the burning sun.
Northern lights dance through like ribbons, meshing perfectly with the three planets I set orbiting around each other in the center of it all.
The Chiaros: Vita, Aura, and Pyra.
It’s the only thing I have memorized like the back of my hand—stars, planets, and the shadows between them.
I peel my gaze from the ceiling and find that the Captain is grinning. He notes me staring, and my breathing stutters when his smile widens in response. I quickly close my fist when my magic burns too hot and the illusion dissipates.
Laverna’s face is unreadable, but her head bobs once in approval, so subtly I almost don’t catch it. Delia’s lips are pressed in a tight line, that sharp chin tilted up, and her eyes are bright. Almost like she’s proud.
Ceres, on the other hand, looks thoroughly unimpressed. “That’s it?” she huffs, her red painted lips pursed.
“Did you expect something more?” I grit out.
“From Esme Van Reenan’s daughter? Yes.” Ceres looks around like she’s expecting support from Laverna and Her Grace, but everyone else remains silent. “I mastered illusions and light manipulation by the time I was sixteen—almost four years younger than you are now.”
I look at Callan, and he quickly notes the lack of patience in my face, then his gaze slides slowly to Ceres. “Lucina’s magic has different… bounds than yours, Ceres,” he says as if he’s bored. “The more there is, the longer it takes to master.”
My jaw slackens, and Delia snaps her head to the Captain, but he only shrugs.
“Be as it may,” Ceres hisses. “I expected more than a silly little party trick.”
My temper rises, I feel it swelling within me.
Rarely do I play with the entirety of my magic because I fear it has the power to consume me until I’m nothing more than a speck of dust, but…my stubborn pride doesn’t want to be a party trick. I rip open the cage I keep my magic in, and the pressure in the room plummets.
“Lucina,” Callan warns, but I ignore him, keeping my eyes on Ceres as it all pulsates through my body, pulling and pouring from that well inside me in a bright crackling river.
My hands feel hot, and my skin begins to glow a warm golden bronze as I empty my reserves until all that’s left at the base of my spine is a deep, black void.
All at once, I let it go, and the room goes dark—no, the windows go dark, night falling over Pirn like a blanket.
Night in the middle of the day.
Ceres’s face drops, and all three women slowly turn toward the window.
The early morning sun is gone, along with the bright blue sky, and in its place is a galaxy, just like the one I’d cast on the ceiling.
Planets, stars, nebulas, and an inky blackness so dark it makes the stars shine like beacons.
It looks as though all of Pirn is now on the moon, floating through space with no atmosphere to separate it from the endless void beyond.
All along the dirt paths, people freeze, gazes shooting upward as they clutch the arms of those nearby.
I give all I have to the illusion, the power flowing unhindered from my hands, alarmingly fast and dangerously potent.
Only when my head starts spinning do I realize how close I am to burning out—
The blue sky reappears at my closed fists, casting the room back in rays of sunshine. I clasp my shaky hands behind my back before Delia can see the way they tremble. I’m empty, like a hollow shell, forced to sway on my feet until magic replenishes.
My knees wobble, and I can’t bring myself to look at the Captain. But even without meeting his stare head-on, I know he’s angry with the risk I’ve just taken.
I do my best to hide any tremor in my voice. “Have I met your expectations now?”
Ceres’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t respond.
“You have, Lucina. You have exceeded them,” Laverna replies, her rounded cheeks pinched in a quick smile, then her eyes dart to Ceres in warning.
Delia clears her throat, gently closing her journal, and I blink a little too slowly for Callan’s liking. He steps around the couch as the Dame starts speaking, eyes pinned on me. “Next week, I’d like to see your illusions mastered and some progress with light manipulation.”
I nod, widening my stance to keep me upright, and Callan makes his way to my side, scanning my body as if he’s trying to pick which part of me will give out first.
Delia’s navy eyes flash with an emotion I can’t quite place. “It’s time we start thinking about your place here in Pirn,” she says, readjusting her robes. “After you finish training, I’d like you to join our coven.”
Ceres chokes, and the room spins.
I will not fall, I tell myself.
And I sure as fuck will not join their coven. Regardless of my bloodline, I don’t picture myself next to them. I don’t picture myself with a pressed tunic and a golden diadem woven into my hair, stuck here forevermore.
“Someone is trying to kill me, and you want to announce to camp whose daughter I am?”
The Dame rolls her lips, setting her journal down before she replies, “Lucina, do you know what the most sought-after and fought over desire in the world is?”
“I don’t know,” I clear my throat, and Callan stiffens beside me. “Money, love, time—”
“Power.” Delia’s voice is sharp as it cuts through the air.
“Everyone wants it, everyone craves it. Lucina, your life will always be under threat because you have copious amounts of the most sought-after and fought-over desire in the world. You should let that sink in now, because you are the daughter of the most potent and pure power line our kind has ever known. You bleed what everyone else desires, and that will never change.”
I force my spine straight, fear spreading through my body like wildfire. The power I was born with was never something I desired; I shouldn’t have to suffer for a life I didn’t choose.
“Well, maybe I don’t want my future to be predetermined based on something I never asked for,” I reply, and the room falls silent.
“Ah, wanting,” Delia hums around the word.
“There is no wanting for you, Lucina. There is only the will of Fate, the will of the Matrons, and the will of Magic. You will have no dream that does not align with that trinity. Believe it or don’t, but you will learn it, as all the women before you have. ”
Ceres grins back at me, the tilt to her red-painted lips smug and triumphant. Laverna’s fingers fidget with the fabric of her robes, and the Dame is watching Callan…who has yet to take his eyes off me.
You will have no dream that does not align with that trinity.
I roll out my shoulders, magic replenishing like grains of sand in an hourglass.
You will learn it, as all the women before you have.
I lift my chin and smile weakly. “We’ll see, Your Grace.”
“Glad you’re alive,” Callan snaps when the door shuts behind us and hot summer air kisses my cheeks. “Now, I can kill you myself.”
“Let’s focus more on the alive part—”
“No, I’d rather kill you,” he says, frantically checking my pupils, calloused fingers gripping my chin. “You let them get the better of you. I told you to let me handle it.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, reaching for all the strength I have to stand on my own. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
Callan shakes his head as if I’ve missed the point entirely. “I’m not fighting your battles, Chaos, I’m fighting the things you shouldn’t have to deal with. Let me, please.”
I blink up at him, magic replenishing faster now that the sun is beating down on my bare shoulders.
Callan’s chin jerks to the door behind us, dark stubble catching the sun. “No more of that,” he says plainly. “No more risking yourself for the sake of pride.”
I clear my throat, swallowing against the tightness there. “Okay.”
“Good.” He releases me only to lace his fingers through mine. “Let’s go.”
I wobble a bit as I steady myself to fall in step beside him. “Where are we going?”
I haven’t asked why he’s wearing more armor than usual, or why he’s been extra broody ever since his meeting with Delia yesterday, but I just figured she denied yet another plan he’s been working on. His coven is supposed to leave at the end of next week.