chapter twenty-nine
MY LEGS GIVE IN, AND I sink down into a squat, pressing the backs of my hands against my forehead. I can’t believe I made it all the way here only to fail on this last test. Why did I spend so much time on my way in? If I’d been quicker, maybe I would’ve had time to find a solution.
Staring down between my feet, a trickle of red catches my eye. I blink, then look again as what appears to be blood fills the small dip and the crevices of the glyph connected to it. Is that my blood? I’m confused. Why am I bleeding?
Then the reality slams into me. I’m bleeding.
I am bleeding. Here. Now. My first bleed!
I want to jump up and scream with joy, but wisely, I remain still.
I gaze up toward the Mi’Awal Moon, then back down at the blood between my legs.
A slow smile spreads across my face from the sheer joy of it.
I’m a woman! Or—I frown—am I? Bleeding with your twenty-first moon is a Reān rite, after all. This doesn’t make any sense.
I don’t look remotely Reān. Reāns all look like living gods, while I’m as forgettable as they get, bland even for a human.
I glance to the side, staring at myself in the mirrors, my pallid skin a stark contrast against the dark circles under my eyes, and the lifeless ash-brown hair framing my face.
There is no slight point to the tips of my ears, and—my tongue glides across my upper teeth—I have no distinguished canines.
Definitely not Reān. I sigh. Could it be a coincidence?
A very welcome coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless?
The glyph is now almost entirely filled with my blood. Does this count as a blood offering?
The wind is gone, and there has not been a sound for ages, only stillness.
Not the empty stillness following the umbra, but a reverent one.
An expectant one, as if Reā herself is holding her breath.
I stare at the blood trickling, filling the last quarter of an inch.
In a flash, every candle extinguishes, causing me to let out an involuntary cry of surprise as I’m enveloped in impenetrable darkness.
Then a soft pull tugs at my chest, so gentle I almost think I imagined it at first.
It comes again, stronger.
It’s a strange sensation, almost as if there’s a string tied to my heart and someone is pulling on it.
“Forget. Forget, child.” The voice differs from the wind’s voice. This one is soft and ethereal, barely a murmur, as if it’s coming from a dream.
Forget? I shake my head. Did I imagine it? “What am I to forget?” I ask into the darkness.
“For a rebirth to happen, you first have to forget. To die.”
“Die?” I flinch. There really is no other way out of here, is there?
“There is not but one way to die, child.” Tinkering laughter washes across my skin. “You need to forget. Let go. Any attachment to the old will snare you in the past, hinder your transformation.”
There’s another gentle tug on my chest, and there’s no mistaking it this time.
“Let go, child. Forget who you are so you can become who you are meant to be.”
“But how?” I cry in frustration. If there’s a way one can simply forget one’s past and move on, I’d happily have done that a long time ago.
“You know.”
For someone as unknowledgeable as Ero claims me to be, I’m sure supposed to know a lot. How can anyone just forget who they are?
My shoulders slump with a heavy sigh. I rub my forehead in an attempt to clear my thoughts.
Burn me. Grabbing the glass jar from the floor next to me, I’m ready to hurl it at the cave wall.
Then it hits me. This concoction makes one forget.
Is that why the dark-eyed lady gifted it to me? Did she know?
Kneeling, I unscrew the jar and lift it to my nose.
It doesn’t smell too bad, and I may as well give it a try.
What’s the worst that could happen? I’ll die?
I let out a dry laugh. Since that seems to be the very task I set out to do, I swallow down the entire jar in a couple gulps.
The liquid coats my tongue with a bitter, mineral tang that lingers at the back of my throat.
Yet, there's a slight sweetness underneath, like honey mixed with dirt. It’s not the best I’ve had, but it’s certainly not the worst either. Kneeling on the cave floor, I wait.
The next tug is so strong that I’m pulled upward, back arching, chest lifting, my knees barely staying on the ground. Another tug. Stronger.
I scream as I’m pulled apart. My physical body slumps to the cave floor while my consciousness soars upward at an incredible speed.
In a fraction of a blink, the feet of my ethereal body touch soft ground.
I’m standing at the edge of a beautiful shore, its waters washing up over my bare feet, and I’m surprised at how real it feels.
“Hello?” I call. “Anyone here?”
“Quiet, child.” That same voice—coming from everywhere and nowhere at once—is soft. Gentle.
Mah. I don’t know how I know, but I do.
“Quiet. Only through silence can you hear your soul’s whispers. Can you hear them calling?”
I close my eyes. There’s the distinct sound of birds and the crash of the waves, but there’s also something else. Something familiar. A song of sorts, calling to me. Guiding me. Longing for me. Home, it whispers. Home. The sensation sends a shiver down my spine, raising goose bumps on my arms.
Mah’s voice rings through the darkness again. “Five shards have been kept from you, resting in Reā’s embrace. Five shards seek a home, and trust is the key to claim them. Can you trust, child? Can you trust and surrender and allow the pieces to claim you? Are you strong enough to claim them?”
Trust. Such a small word, yet so profound.
Despite causing me immeasurable hardship, it has also brought me the most profound joy of my life: Seniia and Vilder.
True friendship. If I had let fear hold me back, if I hadn’t dared to trust again, that incredible moment of our bonding would never have happened.
So I decide to trust. To allow. And as I let go of my past and surrender my future, the ground beneath my feet comes alive.
Ancient markings whisper their guidance, the earth calling for me to follow the rhythm of an old forgotten trail, yet one my body remembers.
Surrendering to the fire of transformation, I allow the flames to burn me to ashes until I’m nothing but dust carried on the seven winds as they whisper to me their truths.
Coming to an end at the water’s edge, the water’s sacred song washes over me, healing my scars, restoring my bones.
And then I allow the knowing of the spirit to settle into my soul.
I’m floating in a deep, meditative trance, where I can sense all of Mah’s creation in my being: Her earth, her waves, her tides. Her mysteries, her birth, and her depths. Her entire cosmos. And when she speaks again, I can see her. Mah.
Her feet glow with shining light as she walks on a moonlit path across the shore.
Draped in layered garments of dark blue, adorned with stars, she exudes an air of regal majesty.
Her lavender hair cascades down her back, and her skin glistens like stardust. Still, what catches my attention is the single crescent moon adorning her forehead, right between her deep, dark eyes.
And while they shine with ancient wisdom, they are also youthful, vibrant. And familiar.
She stares at me with a kind, caring gaze. “You have done well, daughter.”
Despite the now-glowing skin and ethereal beauty, I recognize her. It’s the same lavender hair. The same dark, star-flecked eyes. “You.”
“I wish I could have done more to ease your suffering, but too much interference would not have let our strings cross here. This moment,” she says as she comes to stand before me, “would not have happened.” She pulls me into an embrace, then steps back.
“But it is now time to leave. To remember who you are.” She taps my heart. “To live who you were born to be.”
The hollowness in my chest. It’s gone! But in its wake is a myriad of emotions I don’t want to study too closely. Not now.
“Nothing becomes real until it is experienced.” She cocks her head, as if listening for something, then looks back at me.
“There are those who do not approve of my choice, but you are stronger than you think, and you would do well to remember that in the days to come.” There is a soft, wistful smile on her face.
“Now go. He will be waiting for you.” She brushes her fingertips across my face. “Until we meet again.”
I reach for her as she fades out of view, a million unanswered questions at the tip of my tongue, but it’s as if I’m trying to grasp air. And then she is gone.
THE SENSATION OF FALLING BACK into my body is an unpleasant one.
Every single part of me is on fire, as if my skin is being seared from my bones, and for a moment, I’m paralyzed, unable to move.
The fear of being caught in this inferno makes me want to scream, but even my voice is gone.
I can’t breathe, and the lack of air makes me lightheaded and on the brink of panic.
Then, as soon as it arrived, the pain is gone, and the paralyzing feeling loosens its grip.
Rolling onto my back, I gasp down breaths of air.
The darkness is gone, and the cave is again lit by the many candles. The Celestial Moon, visible through the open ceiling, doesn’t appear to have moved at all. It still hangs at its peak. I can’t believe I’m alive.
The first thing I notice is that I still remember my life and still have my connections to Seniia and Vilder. That should mean they’re safe. What’s different is the newfound sense of completeness. I bring my hand to my chest. There’s no gaping hole there anymore.
The second thing is the strong smell of blood that surrounds me, impossible to ignore. Pushing myself up to a seat, I flinch as I look down at my body. That must be why. I may be alive, but I’m a bloody mess.