Chapter 19
Lineages sprout a millennium back. Tracing idle lines is the work of a nonbeliever. Knowing one’s history is not as important as knowing one’s present.
Lonely days have passed since the words exchanged at the temple. I went back to my quarters immediately after, embarrassed and confused. There is something there between us, between Cedric and me, that I have no energy to dissect. I need to shelve it and focus on my future here.
From what Isadora said this morning in my dressing room, Sawyer has been in Krue territory with Cedric. I can breathe knowing I won’t have to interact with either today.
A knock sounds at the door. I close the book I am reading and open the oak door. Garreth and Avonde are waiting casually with some papers.
“Good afternoon,” I welcome their unreadable expressions into my space. Avonde looks around my room, eyeing the changes I’ve made, such as tearing the curtains down to let light in.
“I had to brighten the space a bit,” I say, taking a seat near the open window. “You all tend to keep things dark here at the castle.”
“It’s so interesting to hear how different your tastes are without your memory. Your whole life surrounds this castle and kingdom. Actually, you helped to decorate the cottage with Cedric’s mother.”
My mind tries to conjure up any of those memories but I can’t pull anything up. The cottage is quite charming. I particularly love the window wall, so maybe I can take credit for that.
“How have you been adjusting?” Garreth asks, crossing his legs. His boots are crusted with dirt. Most likely from apparating to and from Krue.
“It’s been an adjustment. To be fair, I haven’t done much with my days. I’d like to train again soon, though, if that’s an option.”
Garreth considers this. “If it pleases you, we can certainly arrange for it.”
My heart jumps. The taste of power I felt that morning was incredible. I nod, holding back too much excitement.
“Good.” Garreth smiles, looking to Avonde. She nods to him, her expression turning more serious.
“You obviously aren’t here for small talk,” I sigh.
“No, we’re not. The cess have made progress with the curse – the spell – that’s binding you. But we just need to clarify a few things about your life there.”
“What do you need to know?”
“You said others were with you. Who were they?”
Clearing my throat, I can so vividly picture young Haldon before me, his father a menacing shadow. “There was a house next to ours where a father, a drunk really, and his son lived.”
“That was the one that Sawyer lived in?” Garreth questions and I shake my head no, cringing at the memory, the truth that Sawyer was in my mind the entire time, entertaining the alternate reality I was locked in. He probably could have prevented my amnesia by helping me. Instead…
Avonde takes notes across from me. “I know that detail is hard. Do you understand how he was able to do that?” Garreth asks. I shake my head. It’s obvious that I wouldn’t.
“You and Cedric have gone through a Bloodrite. There are two stages of mating, so to speak, in vampyr tradition. Bonded are rare but beloved. You two were going to be married regardless of if it was a bonded match, your parents made sure of that. But fate took over on that part. The first event is the Bloodrite. They happen every year with the High Arch of Erees. Yours was months before the accident. So that mental bond we keep referencing…”
“I’ve felt it,” I cut in. After our encounter after the river, there is no mistaking that something deeper is keeping us connected.
“That is very odd,” Avonde murmurs.
“Well, that bond means that you two are able to speak and stay connected in many ways beyond the physical. You are mentally and spiritually one. If one suffers an injury, the other is alerted to it. Along with that, bloodrited vampyrs can mindwalk. It’s one of the many blessings given to us by the Gods.
It’s not a very common thing, though. It just means one bonded could hypothetically go inside their partner’s mind.
Some do it during illness, intimacy, to share memories, you understand what I’m saying. ”
I shrug and mentally note that.
“Naturally, everyone is confused how Sawyer was able to do that in your mind for two years.”
The scowl on my face forms before I can think. “What, so everyone believes I was unfaithful?” My heart thuds in my chest. While Cedric and I are far from what we were before my mind was lost, I can’t imagine being framed as that.
“No, it is impossible. Only bloodrited can do this,” Avonde states, rubbing her beads.
Realization dawns on me.
“You can only be bloodrited once,” I say cooly, relief washing over me. Garreth and Avonde nod. “Which leaves us at square one,” I add.
“Sawyer’s admitted to simply trying to tap in, and try as he did, he succeeded.
But trust that Cedric has taken care of that issue with his brother.
We must believe, as hard as it is, that Sawyer was attempting an alternate way in and perhaps this curse allows for it,” Avonde offers, smiling sheepishly.
“Two years is a long time for anyone to be in a coma. Humans rarely wake up and it’s nearly unheard of for vampyr and cess.
Vampyr would perish from lack of blood, and cess have an innate connection to our ether of magic,” Avonde says as she opens a scroll.
She hands it to me and it takes me a moment to recognize what it is.
“This is a spell,” I say as I try to sort through the old script. It’s withered and nearly illegible. My brain identifies some of the phrases but otherwise, it’s gibberish.
“I dug through every tome in our library for this. It’s a spell for mindbinding.
It is meant for nefarious purposes, using you without your knowledge,” she explains.
I look up from the page and feel chills at the concept.
This is the spell? The one holding me back from fully regaining my consciousness.
In my hands I hold the key to my person.
“So, you know, then, how to undo what has been done,” I state.
“No, but it’s close to what we’re working with.” I relax slightly and look at the words as she continues. “And even with this one, we don’t know how to reverse it. This work is dangerous.” She gets up from the chair and kneels next to me, pointing at the phrases.
“You wouldn’t recognize it now, but it’s written in the old tongue.”
“I barely recognize it,” Garreth chuckles, obviously trying to lighten the mood. I like him.
“How can you find a needle in a haystack?” I ask almost silently. My heart pounds and my brain feels fuzzy. They want to succeed and I know they will.
“What if Liv ceases to exist and Elivienne comes back completely? We never considered the adverse effects. I am – Liv is – obviously a byproduct of the subconscious.”
Avonde crosses her legs and rests her chin on her elbow. “You’re afraid of losing a part of yourself. Memories of all of this.”
“Of course I am. I’ve only lost my memory, essentially, but this is a curse. You’ve said it before. Magic meets no compromise.”
Avonde looks at the spell again. “It might be worth looking into, testing parts of this on your mind until we have a cure.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I would prefer to keep our current plan.”
“You have a good point, Liv,” Garreth reassures. “Thank you for being open.”
“We will continue to search and collaborate across sects until we have a more clear answer,” Avonde affirms as she rolls the scroll back into place. She and Garreth rise and head for the door.
“How long?” I ask, trying to hide the fear in my voice.
“Days, a week, it’s hard to tell,” Garreth answers for her, opening the door. “Just keep this between us and Cedric.”
I nod, waving as I shut the door quickly.
My back hits the wood and I slide down to the stone floor.
My dress pools around me as the panic sets in.
Cedric said I always had a choice. If they don’t have answers about the spell and its effects, I could say no.
I’ve already made progress. What if the spell isn’t needed? What if I beat this on my own?
I stand up and rush to the armoire across from the bed. Shuffling through dresses, my hand lands on the satchel I brought with me from the cottage. I pull out the journal I stashed away and bring it to the vanity. Using the kohl stick Isadora used for my makeup this morning, I scrawl a message.
Putting the journal back in the satchel, I slowly close the door of the armoire and make my way down to the Healers’ Quarters.
The other cess are nowhere to be found. Avonde oversees my healing on most days but other members have special skills.
Today I was meant to work with Yully but the cess lights, the living flames, are the only thing alive in their quarters.
“Hello?” I enter and walk around the workstations, observing open books with languages I do not recognize. A few dried herbs crunch under my slipper. The bookcase I noticed the first time I was in here looks to be commandeered by more parchment and bound writings.
Parchment hangs out at various places and a vial of ink appears to have spilled at one time, staining the oak. I run my fingers along it all, standing on my tip toes. If I am a cess, would I not recognize any of this? There is a strong chance some of this is my work.
I lean into the shelves to reach for a small box up top but the shelf moves backwards. Nearly falling into the stacks, I right myself and push on the shelves again. They groan back a few more inches. Lifting my feet, I notice metal tracks appearing with each push.
Interesting.
A hidden door was not on my list today, but I push forward and the whole thing swings inward on a hinge.
The hall in front of me is dim, but not completely dark.
Vampyr have good eyesight but I grab the cess light on the wall next to me and step into the hall.
It curves to the right on a steady decline.
Daylight begins to shine through a trellis-like arched roof camouflaged in vines.
As I realize I am outside the castle, I take a deep breath of fresh air.
The climate is only getting colder in Lux but the crispness of it feels refreshing.
On my left the lattice structure meets the dirt and large hedges.
I try to ascertain where this is leading based on my trips around the grounds.
The large arch overhead connects on the right with the stone exterior of the castle.
Stringed instruments and small drums rise in volume as I continue down the path. The dirt here is disturbed and well-trodden. This is a frequent journey for our healing friends downstairs.
Me too, I suppose. Once upon a time.
I take a sharp left and nearly fall off a step. Before me is a large, covered dirt courtyard with about thirty Cess seated solemnly. Yully walks calmly between the bodies, pausing to adjust a younger acolyte’s posture.
Backing up a step, I hit my heel on the cement and lose my balance, characteristically dropping the cess light onto the ground with a loud bang from the metal.
The firm postures in front of me stay still, a few wiggle but pay no mind to me. Yully smiles and waves me over.
I shake my head no.
He nods yes.
Sighing, I tread over to him, keeping my limbs tucked in so as to not disturb someone.
“Liv, what a sight to see you. I wondered when you would make your way here.”
“What is this?”
“Our practice? Or the place?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Both, I guess.”
Yully motions for me to follow him. I did not notice at first, but Grenn is on the other side of the courtyard talking to the group.
“Inhale deeply to fuel the calm of your magic. Let your lungs rise like the tide of an ocean, hold – and slowly release,” Grenn instructs.
Yully takes me across to a bench in the corner behind the crowd as Grenn demonstrates slow movements of the neck, his instruction drawing forth an electric energy of magic between the healers.
“Grenn and I hail from the Silent Kingdom. I was trained formally here but spent my childhood on an island off the coast from there. Movement, in its most basic form, is the key to longevity, to happiness, to health. This used to be the training yard before it was moved outside. We use it exclusively for our practice now.”
Listening, I imagine the Silent Kingdom, remembering the book I used to read in my dream state. From the story, it is a diverse climate with clear waters and rich culture.
“Do all cess do this?”
A few of the younger members fall out of a standing pose, chuckling to themselves before refocusing.
“No, it’s not compulsory. We may be one of the few sects who all find value in it. Our bodies and our minds are more connected than we believe; trauma, grief, pain, loss, it all can be worked out more holistically if we can forge a strong connection between the two.”
“The body remembers,” I murmur, thinking of my own malady.
Yully nods, motioning to the crowd. “I wonder… I wonder if you would find more release out here than in formal sessions. We could try something more invasive.”
“Oh, I’m not in the right physicality for that.” I point at a man doing slow, controlled push-ups in the corner. “And no, no magic please.”
“Of course. Any body is an able body.” The beat of the music fills the space and I watch intently, observing the different poses and movements across the yard.
“Tomorrow morning. You will practice with us.” Yully nods as if convincing himself this is a good idea. “It will be good for you. Tomorrow.” The cess stands and brushes his hands on his robes.
“What about our lesson today?” I ask as he walks away, hands clasped behind his back.
“We’ve just finished. I will see you at sunrise.”