Chapter 3 #2
If the connection wasn't completed, the partners didn't share their minds but could send brief mental messages.
This ability could be one-sided or mutual, depending on the level of magic and the intensity of the union.
Since Zion had no interest in me, the connection lingered in the back of our minds.
It was something I didn't dare touch—a reminder that the only person bound to me in this world didn't want me either.
Nothing new under the sun.
“So you're just going to be alone forever, Kay?” Breno was irritated. “Sorry, but this stuff gets to me. God! You're smart, hardworking, and beautiful. I don't know how Zion doesn't see that. I swear I don't understand how he can be such an ass.”
I took a deep breath and grabbed my friend's shoulder, stopping his pacing. A wave of affection flooded my chest after hearing his words. Even though they couldn't banish the frustration and defeat, at least they calmed me down.
“He may be a jerk, but he's the man who saved my life.” I swallowed hard, feeling a whirlwind of emotions tearing through my chest. Talking about the general was confusing, and I found myself lost in a tangle of feelings.
Gratitude for being saved, sadness and anger at what he did in the forests, and overwhelming anguish at his indifference—all tangled up with the knowledge of the compatibility bond that made everything complicated.
“I owe him, and the least I can do is not let his indifference bother me.”
My friend's expression softened. Sometimes he was a pain in the neck for poking at old wounds, but he was also my lifeboat on most days.
“I'm sorry…” He placed his hand over mine. “I won't bring it up again.”
Uncomfortable with the closeness, I gestured for us to keep walking. He followed me in silence.
When I first arrived in Interion, I'd hidden away, withdrawn like a snail into its shell.
I gave up on living, on trying, on being anything more than a waste of time.
But Breno and Ambrose were always there to reach out, tossing me life vests, guiding me like a lighthouse and offering me safe harbor.
I could have disappeared beneath some shell, among thousands of others abandoned by the sea.
But I knew those two would turn the entire ocean inside out to find me.
And they did exactly that. I came out of my shell three years ago, and since then, I've been fighting tooth and nail not to crawl back in.
I would keep standing—for them and for myself.
We resumed our run through the Silent Woods, following a well-worn trail that wound through the leafy trees and led to a cliff.
Everything there was perfectly still, and a stream from Canoe Lake ran parallel to the trail before plunging down an 800-meter drop.
The woods got their name from that waterfall: it was so high that when the water hit the bottom of the cliff, you could barely hear anything from up above. It was as if it didn't exist.
Just below, the waterfall merged with other streams to form the Emir River.
It wound between the colorful mountains, cutting through Interion until it passed beyond its walls and emptied into the eastern sea, where it served as a port and shipping route.
The view was incredible, as if a god had painted the scenery with painstaking attention to detail, intent on creating the most beautiful work of art in the world.
Δ
After running back through the woods, I said goodbye to Breno and headed home. My body was exhausted, and the sun was starting to sink below the horizon.
A bit distracted by the scenery, I glanced up at the screen mounted on the corner near home. The news was playing, and from the red headline, something serious had happened. I pressed the button on my earring-shaped earbuds. The journalist reporting the story was human, beautiful and delicate.
“The purge movement has struck again. A descendant child was found dead this morning. Military forces are tracking the suspects with blood police, and all signs point to the killer group being made up of humans and fae dissatisfied with the presence of the remaining descendants from the Great War.”
Then another reporter appeared on screen.
“Last night, a soldier, still unidentified, was found near death close to the outer wall. Other bodies were also found along the way. Interion is investigating, but there's suspicion of a chase. Doctors are confident the victim will wake up soon. We're awaiting further information.”
I turned off the earbuds and hurried home.
Interion was a dangerous place for descendants of Drutes, and unfortunately, innocent people who had nothing to do with the conflicts were dying for mistakes made by others.
My eyes and hair broadcast my lineage for all to see, and I knew I was safe here in the inner district because no soldier would attack or deny protection to someone connected to Zion.
Still, fear inevitably crept into my mind.
During the Great War, amid explosions, deaths, and a failed attempt to take Interion, soldiers from the nation of Drutes set up kidnapping schemes targeting fae civilians.
They focused on those with powerful elemental gifts, analyzing which ones had the best powers and which would be useful in their cities.
They abducted women of childbearing age to force them to bear children with any Drutes man who possessed considerable magic, passing the genetic combination on to future generations.
Each woman was fitted with a collar of pure iron, the only material capable of nullifying elemental powers; it blocked the flow of energy, leaving them defenseless and unable to use their gifts.
Chained and with no way to resist, they were easily loaded into train cars—the old main transport between Interion and Drutes.
Like cattle, they were taken to the breeding camp, which had been established in the basement of Valmar, the Drutes capital.
Fae are a race that, unlike humans, live extraordinarily long lives. There are records of some who lived for a thousand years, and most reached 800 with ease. Thus, the breeders would have plenty of time to produce the perfect children of Drutes.
At first, the idea worked, and several prodigy children were born.
They were taken from their mothers and placed in Drutes households, where they would grow up and develop their powers in a suitable environment.
From an early age, they learned to love the nation and remain ignorant of their ancestors.
Once the babies of the First Generation grew up and developed their powers, the nation placed them in positions suited to their gifts.
They had never seen so much magic. The diversity was incredible—after all, the number of fae had been small before, and their gifts were almost nothing compared to those of Interion.
With that stolen power, Drutes flourished and expanded its resources, becoming the second greatest power of Jupiter.
They no longer needed help from other nations to keep the economy running, because now they had their own resources and were an independent nation.
Time passed, and the number of breeders dwindled.
Some died in childbirth; others took their own lives after years of abuse and mistreatment.
Records showed 212 women at the start, but after the first round of reproduction, only 130 remained.
Yet twenty-five years after the First Generation was born, no new children had come.
The doctors involved knew they had to act, and so the genetic modification experiments began.
They extracted eggs, altered them to be less vulnerable, fertilized them with genes from First Generation men, and implanted them in the breeders' wombs.
It worked—their bodies carried the fetuses to term.
And so the Second Generation was born: genetically modified children.
At birth, each child's power level was tested by the Sonar—a fae whose gift allowed him to evaluate the natural elemental flow of other fae and classify it on a scale from 0 to 1,000.
The Sonar himself was one of the First Generation children, possessing a rare ability in Jupiter.
For perspective: a pureblooded male from Drutes, the weakest nation, had a power level between 100 and 300.
A fae from Interion, the most powerful territory, might be born with levels ranging from 100 to 600.
First Generation children fell between 300 and 600.
But the Second Generation babies were born with supernatural levels of magic—each new child seemed to break the previous record.
The highest among them was a secondary named Serguei, born with an astonishing level of 1,000.
Drutes' problems began ten years after the births.
At that age, magic started to manifest and take shape.
The Second Generation children began displaying increasingly strange powers that strayed from the patterns of the first lineage.
Some had affinities with death or blood.
Others exhibited a range of psychic abilities.
There were shapeshifters, children with venomous gifts, seers—and many other abilities that were never officially recorded, for fear the information might leak to other nations.
It was as if the gods themselves were furious over the sins committed against the women and all that horror.