Chapter Nineteen
Andi
An uneventful week passed in Cyvail. Finding rhythm in a town we thought we would be skipping any day, was surprising.
Every morning, Myles and I have breakfast at the inn, mostly joined by Kali, who tells us her life story: growing up in Vayross, telling us of its beauty.
How the houses are carved out of the mountains; the higher the level, the higher the class, with the royals sitting on their perch at the peak.
Waterfalls streaming down the cliffside, with paths tucked underneath.
Flaxen leaves speckling the tips of trees that overhang from the ridge, creating a natural shade from the sun.
Mostly, she talks of her sister, Lura. A healer who lives further into Linorah, near the mountains. Sadness and melancholy spill from every syllable, every kind word she has to say about her sister. She tells of how Lura prefers a solitary life away from the crowds, which Kali thrives on.
Myles is full of a thousand questions about elf life, where she and her sister grew up, and their family.
Every meeting, his mood lightens. The weight off his shoulders is a little less.
Which is maybe why we’ve remained where we are, I’d hate to see him disgruntled at having to leave a place we’ve both found kinship.
Hearing the stories of Kali and Lura envelops me in sorrow and regret, missing my own family, my sister, Wyatt.
Of Dad. I’ve put on a brave face for Elana for so long, I think I forgot to grieve properly myself.
I miss him more with each passing day. He would make me laugh when I was upset over something stupid, showing me how to carve little stumps of wood.
Not that I was any good at it. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get them to look the way they were supposed to, but he would always praise me either way.
I wish I had appreciated him more.
The strength it took, keeping me in the dark, to keep me safe all these years. Searching for information about the Taniths, so I had it when I needed it. His pursuit of the witch for my necklace that would protect me.
He died too young, a heart attack, Mum said, but he was so young and healthy it always seemed unreal.
Kali has taken it upon herself to become my magic coach, showing me the basics, like control.
She has a sense of ease about her, a calming nature that made trusting her with my secret easy.
She wasn’t surprised when she found out my heritage with my link to the royals.
Knowing my past hasn’t changed how she treats me: with respect and a directness that I’m not used to.
Informing me that before I can learn to use the ‘cool’ magic, I had to learn to shield, otherwise the device they are using will always lead them to me.
Kali explained that these devices are not a new invention, but they’re not easily attainable, so the chances of me hiding are higher.
But until I could shield, I would always be found, ‘because my magic oozed out of me like a festering wound’—Kali had a way with words.
My first lesson was about the workings of magic. Kali spent a few hours explaining how magic, especially magic as strong as mine, puts off a signature, announcing my presence to anyone who might be searching. The more I use it, the stronger the signal I put out into the world.
Which is more than likely the reason as to why I was found in the first place, having used a great deal in the woods that day.
Every morning, I wake before dawn to meet Kali in an abandoned field behind the tavern, one that was damaged in a recent flood, making it unusable by farmers.
Sticking near the edge beside the dried mud, Kali puts me through my paces.
Every morning, she has another method for me to try.
So far, all attempts have been useless, no matter what I do, I can’t shield.
This morning, Kali is chipper, skipping down towards me. “I have a good feeling about today.”
Tilting my head, my eyebrows creased. “Is that so?”
“Yes. I was thinking back to when I was younger, I had some problems with my temper.” Rolling my eyes, the information doesn’t surprise me. Kali points her finger at me. “You can wipe that smirk off your face right now.”
I hold my hands up in defeat, smiling apologetically.
“As I was saying… an elder from our tribe taught me a few tricks, not all of them worked for me, but we’ll give them a go.”
“What do I do?”
Over the next few hours, Kali tells me to imagine there’s a door to my mind and to lock it.
And I do, I imagine a giant wooden door with carving similar to that on Pria’s temple, but no matter how hard I turn the lock, nothing happens.
Then, I try controlling my breathing. Inhaling and exhaling until I am lightheaded, regardless of the number of breaths, I still can’t shield.
After a few more failed attempts, I rest my hands on my knees.
“Okay, last one,” Kali says exasperated. “Please let this be the one,” she says under her breath. I nod, squaring my stance, readying for whatever method she wants to try. “Try building a wall around yourself.”
I stare at her with my head tilted, “A wall? With bricks or wood?”
“Not an actual wall, idiot. One in your mind. If you want to build it out of fireflies, I couldn’t care less. Just… build... a wall.”
“Okay, okay. I was just checking.”
Kali inhales. “Close your eyes. Now I want you to start building a wall high around yourself, over your head if you want. It’s your wall, do it however you choose.”
In my mind, I picture bricks and stones and wood, spending far too long deciding which would make the strongest imaginary wall.
From a place deep in my memory, an image of the cottage appears.
In my mind, I build it around myself. My safe place.
Stone by stone, window by window, with the thatched roof on top.
With Mum, Elana, and Wyatt inside, waiting for me to come home.
“You did it.” She jumps up and down, clapping her hands and squealing, “I can’t sense your magic anymore.” I laugh under my breath. She is the most energetic and overwhelming person I have ever met. She stops jumping, “Okay, now I can, but that’s fine. You just need practice.”
After my victory, I allow myself a late morning before heading to Nightmare Manor. Finally, I have managed some sort of control, and for the first time in weeks I’m feeling hopeful. I know I still have a long way to go, but one step at a time.
One day, I will be in control.
Wandering around the town, I take in the array of traveller merchants that have come to Cyvail today, setting up stalls.
A delicious, warm sugary smell lures me to the bakery stall.
Filled to the brim with chocolate rolls, hot sticky buns, sugar cakes, and honey cakes; the list is endless.
I could spend hours salivating over them all, but instead, I buy a few chocolate rolls for Myles and myself and drag my feet away.
I admire a stand encumbered with colourful gemstones glittering in the morning sun. A necklace that looks remarkably similar to the one I lost, catches my eye. I caress it, feeling the nicks and grooves of the stones. Close but not the same. It doesn’t feel like Dad, like my old one did.
Smiling politely at the vendor, I walk away.
The sweet smell of the cakes disappears behind a foul stench, and a shiver snakes up my spine.
Spinning round to the vendor, they’re occupied with another customer.
I’m losing it. My mind is playing tricks on me, reminding me not to become too comfortable.
The sweet aromas of the perfume counter, disperses the stench and fills the air with jasmine, vanilla, and one I don’t recognise. It has a strong, tropical, exotic smell, like jasmine and tuberose, but different fruity scents.
“Frangipani,” The perfumer says. “It’s an exotic flower from the islands. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Nodding, I slip away into the crowd. As much as I would love to smell good for a change, I shouldn’t spend the coin we barely have.
The town has begun setting up for the harvest festival. The townsfolk mentioned it’s a tradition here to celebrate the harvest and pay homage to the gods for a bountiful crop. Garlands hang between buildings in soft autumnal tones: orange, browns, and golds.
With Samhain just around the corner, kids have started their carvings of pumpkins and turnips into ghostly and scary faces, to ward off the phantoms who are said to walk freely that night. But despite its ominous description, none of the children fear it, in fact, it’s a day they look forward to.
The unbridled joy of this town is familiar, like the comforting earthy, herbal scent of Mum, after a long day of healing. Somewhere, I could see myself settling down.
Later in the afternoon, I leisurely walk towards the governor’s house.
Strangely, I find myself excited about another day of teaching—a very different feeling from those first few days.
At least the pranks have ceased, those were horrifying: exploding runes, worms in the teapot, an enchanted book that whistled and called my name.
The most annoying being when the girls refused to speak and would only answer me in a bark.
Since I stopped reacting to their antics, I found that Eliza was actually a sweet and curious girl, she asked me questions about my family and my childhood, which I gladly answered.
Megan was more stubborn, definitely the instigator of the pranks I have endured.
Since her partner in crime is now fraternising with the enemy, she would pout and sulk in the corner, glaring at us out of the corner of her eye.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and she initiated questions about Vendyl. I sat astonished, quickly turning towards the bookshelf to hide my smile, taking a few books out to compose myself before returning to their questions.