Chapter 28 Ariana
ARIANA
Iwas freezing, yet strangely numb. It was as if death bound me in his icy embrace. Like iron bars wrapped me so tightly that I did not know where my skin ended and the cold began. My body vibrated as it uselessly tried to warm itself.
Everything was made worse by the endless spinning.
I could not decipher whether it was I or the room that spun.
Nausea beckoned, threatening whatever remained in my stomach to come up.
I forced it down, squeezing my eyes shut, but that only made things worse.
When my eyes snapped open, things got worse yet again. There was no escape.
Then abruptly, the obscure spinning room stilled.
Darkness turned gray, before lightening further.
My body stopped shaking, and I no longer felt cold or alone.
I sat on the stone where I had been placed in the temple, though I was no longer in that same room; I was in a white realm of nothingness.
In the distance, a figure approached, coming into view.
Its skin was as white as the place I sat in, evident by the visible long thin fingers peaking past dark sleeves.
Its face and features were unknown, hidden by a dark hood.
Without asking who they were, I understood.
Their heavy presence seeped into my bones. It was the Spirit.
I felt almost nothing at that moment. Fear vanished, along with caution and joy.
A strangely simple peace surrounded me. I existed in that place to speak to the Spirit.
There was no need for anything else. Yet, I was still myself.
My emotions were known and present, though it was as if they were behind a curtain, hidden away so that my mind was uninhibited by them.
The Spirit stood several feet from me, motionless. No sound came from it. A moment passed, and I broke the silence with the question I burned to know the answer to.
“Are the Bavadrins cursed?” I asked, knowing that the Spirit could answer such things. That was the entire reason for the Ascension ceremony. The Spirit chose the Leader Superior who thus met the Spirit to be enlightened, to better be equipped to lead their people.
The Spirit appeared to shift without moving, its face remaining hidden. “No. Far from it,” it answered in a voice neither masculine nor feminine.
“How so?” I asked, my tone mirroring its calm demeanor. Though I could not make out the features of the Spirit, I knew it was peaceful. I also knew myself to be safe.
“Look in the mirror when you ponder that question,” it replied, and I frowned. It seemed that the Spirit answered questions in riddles similar to Edda’s style whenever she answered about her visions.
“Are the Lysians to be trusted?” I asked instead.
“Do you trust the Lysians?” it asked in turn.
“I want to,” I admitted.
“That was not the question.”
“Then yes, I suppose I do. Is that foolish of me?”
“Not at all.”
“Why me? Why was I chosen for this position? And why was someone as horrid as Fraser ever even chosen?”
The Spirit tilted its head unnaturally. “Fraser served his purpose. As for you, would you have preferred that the boy who challenged you be the victor? The one with the sweet-tasting blood of fear?”
“That was you. Who made me behave so . . . wild?” While standing before Shal, I felt as if I were on a boat and someone else began steering it. I was not in control, stuck on that bit of wood in the middle of an ocean while someone else manned the helm.
The Spirit’s shoulders shifted as though it laughed, yet no sound came from it. “Today, the veil between us is the thinnest as you Ascend. Yes, I was present within you when that child challenged you. Did you not enjoy the taste of your enemy’s blood?”
I gritted my teeth to keep from making a face of disgust. No, I didn’t particularly enjoy that part.
I shifted the conversation. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“Ariana.” The Spirit said my name without my giving it.
“You are on a path that is very much your own now. It will bring you great pain, but it may also bring you and those you care for peace. Some have been placed in your path to help you on this journey. You must never lose the trust you have in yourself. Trust in your choices, and the path you are set on may be less painful.”
“Path I have been set on? You make it seem like I have no choices, at least not really.”
“Some choices are now out of your hands.”
“Are they in yours?” I asked, wondering if the Spirit had set me on the path.
“No, they no longer are.”
“But they used to be?” It made no sense. The Spirit was a god. How could anything be outside of its control?
“Many things are at work here. Your ties to the Spirit realm are strong; do not fear using those ties. Pull on the power, draw it into you. But know, the power will not be able to protect you from everything.” The Spirit was alluding to my conjuring, for that was what tied me to its realm.
“What is it I need protection from?” I asked. Did the Spirit not just imply that the Lysians could be trusted?
“You will soon know the answer to that.”
“You do not wish to give the answer yourself?”
The Spirit seemed to smile, though I still could not make out its features. “You remind me much of your mother.”
My breath caught. “You knew her?” My mother never ascended to Leader Superior. She could not have even been in a realm such as the one I was now in. Of course, the Spirit oversaw everything and thus knew her in some way.
“I must go. Time has gotten away from us,” the Spirit suddenly announced, and I felt my chance at obtaining any answers slip through my fingers.
“Wait. There is still so much I don’t understand.
Can I truly trust the Lysians? Are the Sidhe behind the disappearance of conjurors from our lands?
Will Bavadrins be injured if I free myself?
What about the broken treaty and the curse?
” I found myself rattling off several questions to which I desperately wanted answers.
“I will answer one question. Ask wisely, for some of which you asked may offer information that is of no true use to you.”
“The treaty. Did the curse die with Fraser’s death, or is there something else I could do to free the Bavadrins?”
“No, the curse did not die with your father’s death, and there is nothing you can do, for it was your birth that was the curse,” it answered plainly, and my heart nearly stopped in my chest.
“What—what do you mean?”
“I will leave you with one more bit of knowledge. There is one other on a path that will cross with yours several times. It is a conjuror of illumination. You will need their help. The two of you are drawn towards one another, for your futures are intertwined.” The Spirit then moved till it stood directly before me.
I looked up at it and still could not make out a face or features.
It was as if darkness clung to the shadows created by its hood, hiding the face behind it.
“Those you have met in your brief life are lucky to have you in theirs.”
Conjuror of illumination? Did the Spirit mean fire? Was it speaking of Erik? I should have questioned it, but instead, I found myself asking, “How are they lucky if I am cursed?”
“I never said you were cursed. We have waited a long time for you.” The Spirit tilted its head as if looking down at something. “Your left hand, don’t drop it.”
Those were the last words said before it vanished altogether.
I woke up in the temple.
Gone was the mystical entity and the otherworldly feeling of its presence. Thankfully, so were the nausea and the cold in my bones. Though I was far from back to my usual self.
We have waited a long time for you. Who was this we? The Spirit and others have been waiting for me? I did not understand.
Rising to my feet too quickly caused the world to spin, and I sat back down as my body slowly adjusted to the change in position. After a moment, I tried again. My head protested. The floor was unsteady underneath my feet, but I managed one small step after another.
Your left hand. I looked at my hand to find nothing out of the ordinary. Don’t drop it. I then looked at the ground, seeing nothing. Slowly I shuffled my feet, moving around the stone altar to the other side. There was a rolled-up piece of paper on the ground.
I lowered myself to the floor, not trusting myself to bend over to pick it up without falling. It was small and rolled tightly with a single piece of red yarn holding it together. The string slipped off easily, and I unraveled the paper to find words written by Willis’s hand.
We are prepared to take the city back. A few days before your next return, we can take control from the Lysians here.
None of them appear to have conjuring abilities, and with the return of the Sparrow Archers, they will be easy enough to handle.
When you come home, the archers will line the walls as they had years ago.
They will protect you, should you need it.
I need to know that you will be prepared for this.
I also need to know what you wish to be done with the Lysians here.
I took a deep breath. Somehow, the Spirit knew the note was in my hand. Without the warning, I would have left the temple without seeing it. And now I needed to destroy the evidence.
The hearth in the temple was nearly dead.
Fire no longer burned, but the coals still had a dull glow, barely producing any significant heat.
I made my way to that hearth and shoved the rolled-up piece of paper in.
The coals were hot enough for the paper to catch fire.
It was a flash, a sudden spark that turned the note to ash in moments, leaving behind no trace of the plan.
After the embers returned to their dull glow, I pushed myself up and made my way through the room.