Chapter 4 #2
It all came down to whichever natural element you were drawn to. It was air for me. Water for her. Fire for Mother. But that was the most basic of a mage’s power. A mage could have several abilities, and even control other elements, but everything linked back to that basic elemental power.
Our magic came from the Fray. The raw, untamed force of energy which was ever-shifting, boundless, and infinite.
The Fray was everything. The storm and the silence.
The light and the dark. The elements and what lay beyond them.
To summon the Fray was to call upon a force older than time itself to command the storm without knowing if it would obey.
Or consume you whole. Whereas the rest of the magical world practiced Galdrlore, structured magic woven from the elements, only mages and dragons were born with a natural link to the Fray.
Now I feared I’d lost the link. What if the wraith took it from me?
“Hey, there.” Emabelle tapped my knuckles. “You zoned out.”
“Sorry.”
“You have to stop thinking about it. And magic.” She whispered the word magic so low it was as if she hadn’t spoken. “You need to think about moving forward.”
“Moving forward? How am I supposed to do that when my mind physically can’t?
There’s nothing to hope for. My mother thinks my father is dead, which aside from being devastating means I have no way of curing myself if I can’t find him.
Right now, my future looks like this: marry Thayden and move to Zyvaris with nothing but my journals.
The moment the new moon rises, I won’t remember being his wife or how I even got there.
And what about children? We’ll have children, and I won’t remember them.
I’ll grow old, and I’ll still think I’m fifteen.
How am I supposed to be okay with that?”
I couldn’t even think about what I wanted to actually do with my life. Like Mother and Grandmother, I wanted to be a healer.
Healing ran through our bloodline, so it was no surprise that I took to it like fuel on fire. Whereas Mother used conventional methods of healing that were acceptable in the mortal realms, Grandmother had the experience of using mystical magic.
Magic was never an option for me, but now I had neither because the women in Thayden’s family became ladies of the house and didn’t work. Even without that, the curse had already stolen my choice from me. I couldn’t heal anyone if I couldn’t remember what I was taught on a month-to-month basis.
Without memory, without magic, without even the chance to practice mortal healing, what was left of me? A body, a name, a curse, and nothing else. So, I was always screwed.
“Oh, love.” Emabelle gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not supposed to be okay with any of this. None of it is fair. I just meant… you have to find some way to exist in it.”
“I guess that’s the only thing left to do.” Find a way to be okay in this impossible storm where the only thing I could do was survive.
“I think… your mother is doing what she thinks is best.” A pensive look filled her eyes. “It doesn’t mean she’s right, but she’s doing what she thinks will keep us safe.”
“I never doubted that, but I don’t understand how she can just give up on my father and hand me over to Thayden. She knows what he’s like.”
“As if that would matter. You know she’s always thought the world of him, even when he’s being a bastard.” Emabelle rolled her eyes.
“And that makes it so much harder.”
A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes, and a slow smirk crawled across her lips. “If I were you, I’d hook up with a guy I actually liked.”
“Emabelle.” I rolled my eyes at her even though her suggestion didn’t surprise me.
She was an advocate for casual hookups, especially when Phillipe, the sea merchant’s son, was in town. They’d been together well before my curse and, according to my notes, they still were.
“What? It’s not a bad idea.” She shrugged sheepishly, feigning innocence. “Would you like me to give you the run-down of the wholesome benefits of great sex and wild orgasms?”
“Emabelle.” My mouth fell open.
“Stop Emabelleing me.” She giggled, her face becoming animated with ideas. “It’s a well-known fact that getting laid is guaranteed to fix your mood, clear your head, and remind you that you’re still alive.”
“Well known according to whom? You?” I smirked.
“Me and every other woman. Want me to tell you about last month’s hookup with the sexy sea merchant again?” She gave me a wink. “Your face was classic when you first heard the story. I know how you love to live through me.”
I rolled my eyes again and raised sharp brows at her.
“I’m fine. No need to hear the story again.
” By the sound of things, I was sure I was shocked when I first heard it.
It must have been nice to have your own personal living secret diary, aka me.
Tell me a secret or a scandalous story, and I’d forget it in thirty days.
Or less, depending on when you told me. “How in the hells can you be talking about hooking up at a time like this?”
Emabelle laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder in that sassy way men had always liked. “This is exactly the time to be talking about that. You have two weeks left as a free woman, Miss Lady. And tonight is the last that we’ll get to hang out like this.”
Gods. The thought curled around me like a noose. And she had a point.
“If you hooked up with a guy of your choosing. Preferably someone who could fuck you properly. At least you’d have some choice in who gets to be your first. Why should it be Thayden?”
The noose tightened around my gut. Those words hit deeper than anything we’d spoken about tonight.
Due to my memory condition, I’d remained a virgin. Not that it made much difference now, but losing my virginity was something I’d always wanted to remember.
Mother did her best to ensure I remained a virgin because she wanted to keep me pure for Thayden. But just in case my rebellious side ever slipped past her control, she gave me the elixir on the first day of every reset to prevent pregnancy.
She even administered the virginity test herself, claiming she didn’t trust anyone else to touch me there. Then she made me record it in my journal.
I was covered until the next reset, but I was to stop taking the elixir after the wedding.
Gods, the thought of being with Thayden made my stomach churn. And I’d be with him for the rest of my life.
Emabelle was right. Why should he get to be my first? That was the only thing I had control of. The only thing that was still mine.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t crave the thought of being with someone who could make me forget everything, if only for a moment. But maybe it wasn’t wise to add to my ever-growing list of mistakes.
“I don’t know if that would work.” I pressed my sweaty palms to the soft cotton of my skirt.
“Why not? I hope you don’t think Thayden remained pure for you.” She gave me an incredulous glare.
“I would never make the mistake of thinking that.” He was twenty-eight, and I’d always seen him with a woman on his arm.
“And he never even gave you a betrothal ring.”
“I never expected that, either.” Regardless of what Thayden felt for me, slipping a betrothal ring on my finger would have bound him to me too early. He wouldn’t have been able to get up to whatever debauchery he was used to.
“Glad you’re on the same page as me. Elariya, please listen to me on this. Losing your virginity should be your choice. You have plenty of men to choose from in Stormfell.” The mischief returned to her eyes and she giggled. “And kissing friends.”
Oh hells. Kissing friends, namely James Peterson and Benjamin Withers. I read about those guys in my journals. My cheeks colored fiercely at the recollection of what I’d written. Apparently, kissing friends was my answer to hooking up without actually hooking up.
Sometimes when I was reading my journals, I felt that each memory reset created a different version of me.
Almost like I’d lived paralleled lives without ever fully belonging to one.
But I guessed it depended on what happened to me during that month to make me choose certain things.
Kissing friends must have been one of those elusive decisions I seemed to make on a sporadic basis.
The version of me who sat here now was appalled that I could be so frivolous, but if I were being completely honest, I also longed for a break. Something as carefree and freeing as hooking up, even with a kissing friend, to escape reality.
I was just about to say something more when a loud burst of laughter from the man in the corner ripped through the air. He and his friends were playing a drinking game with some travelers who’d been regaling each other with lewd tales of their exploits at the local brothel.
Beyond them, the tavern door swung open, letting in a gust of damp, woodsmoke-scented air.
Two men who looked to be our age stepped inside, their boots heavy against the creaking floorboards.
They looked like hunters. The tallest one caught my gaze and smiled, too easily, as if he knew me.
My stomach tightened before I could stop it.
His eyes latched onto mine, and a slow, deliberate recognition darkened his gaze. From that, I realized I was right. He did know me. And he didn’t just know me, he expected me to know him, too.
I must have met him after the curse, because I had no memory of him.
This situation was something I went through every month, so I was never left alone in the village.
With the strict Faith beliefs and witch hunters at full force, keeping the curse secret was vital.
Emabelle or someone else who'd accompanied me would fill me in on who was who when I came across them.
My heart squeezed when tall-guy said something to the other guy he’d come in with and proceeded to make his way over to us.