Chapter 8
T here was an awkwardness at breakfast that made the air heavy and the sounds of chewing and dishes clanking far too loud. The early hour did not help with the uncomfortable silence between our group. There were too few patrons awake after a night of drinking to fill the inn with enough background chatter to make a difference.
I hurriedly finished my meal and excused myself, and much to my surprise, was met with no argument from Kallistra. I would wait for Alandris alone, outside in the fresh air. Though a bit chilly, anything was better than the suffocating inn. And Alandris must have felt the same, as it wasn’t long before he joined me.
He closed his eyes, sighing out, and he leaned his head back. “That was enjoyable, no? ”
“Did something happen?” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I expected Kallista and Kaz to avoid each other after last night, but you and Zorinna seem off as well.”
It was dangerous—bringing such a thing up—but I wanted to discern if he would tell me anything more about their discussion. Had the two of them met later to further discuss Kallistra and me? Had something else happened?
He opened his eyes, narrowing them down on me, and for a moment, I thought he may have spotted me last night. “You are rather attentive.”
“I spend a lot of time… observing. In the background.”
For a moment, a sadness settled in his eyes and a frown crept up on his lips, but just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared again, replaced with an unreadable smile. “Let’s not talk here. We have a lesson to get to.”
I followed behind him to the forest clearing with my thoughts jumbled. Aside from not knowing what he wished to ask me today, his behavior was oddly defeated. In the short time I’d known him, he was always the one lightening the mood and bringing a positive energy to the room. He’d somehow managed to bring our misfit group together with only his words. And it was only for a moment, but I’d questioned if Kallistra was right not to trust him. All of his charm and positivity and perfectly curated words. I wondered if it was all a facade. Who was Alandris?
He stopped in the middle of the clearing and turned to face me. “Lesson first. ”
I wanted to tell him no, that I needed to understand what was wrong first, but I couldn’t muster the courage. The words stuck in my throat like thick molasses, refusing to surface. I could only manage to nod in agreement.
“I was up early this morning looking through a few texts I brought with me. I took notes on a Mage who was able to manipulate light,” he explained. “I believe your magic will behave similarly. I’m sorry I still can’t discern exactly why it’s hurting you to tap into it, so I’ll need to help you again today.”
“No. Thank you. I appreciate what you’ve been doing to help me.” I darted my eyes away from his. “But you don’t have to, you know… really.”
Alandris stepped toward me. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
His tone was so serious it was startling. There was a hint of annoyance there, but I gleaned it was not intended for me. No, when I looked up at him, his face was kind. Genuine.
“Now, then.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we try the bird again? This time, let’s see if you can control its movement. Perhaps we can test the distance as well.”
Alandris put a hand on my exposed shoulder, and I could feel his magic begin to flow through me, balancing the volatility of my own, brimming just beneath the surface. Somehow, this touch felt distant compared to having our fingers interlocked. It was just a little nuance that proved something was off with him today, and I would have no choice but to ignore it… for now .
I allowed my magic to release and move freely through my body, one drop at a time, as I pictured the bird in my mind. Each time it threatened to overtake me, Alandris’ own magic pushed back against it, forcing it down to a manageable level. I looked back at him often, to ensure those black tendrils weren’t creeping up his hand. Each time, he shook his head at me, silently warning me to focus.
“Ah, finally!” I exclaimed as the form of the bird began to materialize before us, a mass of shadows, just as large as my last successful conjuration.
“Now, see if you can command the bird to perch on that tree just ahead.”
I focused my thoughts on the goal, willing my magic to listen, but the bird seemed to have a mind of its own. “It’s not working.” I pouted. “I’ve never had a knack for animals.”
“I think you will find that considering it an animal is the problem. It’s not a bird, it is the culmination of your own power, so you need to consider it a piece of you.” He tilted his head and snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Stop conjuring a bird. Make it something else. Anything else.”
“Uh… okay.”
I fumbled, pondering what else I could form with my magic. A cat? No, that would cause the same issue. An object? Or a person? Eventually, I settled on a humanoid form and drew in a shaky breath as I once again focused my mind.
Darkness began to pool in the grass until the shape of feet became visible. Then legs, a torso, arms, a head—until the full figure came into view. It was a faceless creature formed from shadow, just as the bird had been. However, this was different, eerily too familiar. I stepped back on instinct, bumping into Alandris’ chest, still behind me, gripping my shoulder to dampen the strength of my magic.
“Nicely done,” he hummed, using both hands to steady me. “Command it to walk toward the tree away from us.”
But the creature did not turn away, instead it started to walk toward us, one slow, staggered step at a time.
“Nairu?” Alandris’ voice grew distant, a whisper against the one echoing in my mind.
You call upon me, child?
Another step closer. Wisps of black swirled around the creature’s arms like roots.
You are still far too weak, but you’ve improved. Do I have the Elven mage to thank for that?
Another step, and the faint sound of Alandris calling out to me again.
Or is he a distraction?
This time, the creature lunged forward as a dark tendril shot forth from its hands, aiming straight for the two of us.
“No!” I shouted, breaking out of the trance.
Suddenly, the world was too loud, and I found myself jumping forward to shield Alandris, severing his grasp on my shoulder, and thus, his hold on my magic. For a moment, the world went black, and I stumbled backward. It was then I felt a firm arm wrap around my stomach, pulling me back sharply, as a violent wall of flame shot up in front of me.
When the fire dissipated, the shadow creature, too, was gone. All that remained was singed grass, the smell of smoke, and the sound of winded breaths behind me. Panic rushed up inside of my gut, and I turned around, still tucked under the arm of the one who’d saved me. My heart sank into my chest when I saw him, and the inky tendrils creeping up the side of his neck and jaw, staining his skin with the sign of my magic gone wrong. I’d felt the excruciating pain of them last time, but I could only imagine how it felt to be covered in so many of them.
“I’m-I’m so, so sorry. Alandris, I—”
“It’s quite alright.” He smiled to reassure me, but he struggled to speak the words, wincing between breaths. He was fooling neither of us. “The marks will fade as they did before.”
“I don’t know what happened… It was like I was somewhere else.” I sucked in my bottom lip. I couldn’t meet his eyes for my shame.
Alandris loosened his hold on me, dropping his arms to his side. “I think we should have that chat now.”
I gave my best effort to help him walk toward a log a short way away, where we could sit, but my small frame provided little boost, considering his height. The entire walk he limped, and with each crunch of the grass beneath us, he struggled to withhold a groan. All the while, I ground my teeth to nothing with guilt. Getting Alandris seated was another feat in and of itself. Once he’d gently eased himself down onto the log, I took a seat on the opposite end, keeping my distance.
“What happened there?” He sighed in relief as he leaned back.
I stared at the marks on his neck, refusing to meet his eyes. I thought I might be able to relax enough to face him if I watched them recede. “That thing… it spoke to me. I couldn’t hear or see anything else. It was all fading away faster and faster as it moved toward us.”
“Interesting.” He pulled his long, black hair back, knotting it out of the way, so he could rub at his neck. “What did it say?”
“That I was weak. That you…” I hesitated. I knew if I told the truth, he would most likely be afraid of me—see me as a monster, like everyone else did.
Alandris scooted closer, his face struggling to mask the pain. He took my hand in his. “Please, look at me. I’m not angry with you. I understood the risk.”
I looked up at him. As he said, I did not find anger there, only concern, swimming in those icy blue irises. I trusted him, and I cursed myself for even considering that he couldn’t be earlier. “It asked me if you were a distraction. That’s when it lurched forward.”
“Have you seen it before? Heard it?”
I thought back on the shadow creature, on why it seemed so familiar. The voice was a sick and twisted mimicry of my own. Like the nightmare I’d had. The mirror. Not so easily explained. “Only in a dream,” I settled on.
Alandris scrunched his mouth. “Would you be opposed to me inquiring about your magic to my mentor? I know you keep to yourself, but I believe he would be able to provide valuable insight.”
“I don’t think Kallistra would approve…”
“You said she’s your captor.”
He’d said it so nonchalantly that my cheeks flushed, and my mouth dropped open. “I-I said that out of frustration last night.”
Alandris squeezed my hand and didn’t say a word. That small gesture was enough to break the dam holding back everything I wanted to say.
“Kallistra is dear to me. We grew up together. She and her mother are the closest thing I have to a family,” I started. “As children, we would play in the snow, chasing little white foxes through the tundra. When we’d come back, she was always scolded harshly for taking me out too far and for too long. They never disciplined me, even if I took the blame… Maybe that’s when we started to grow apart.” I frowned, letting out a sigh. “As we grew older, she was focused more on training to protect me. We stopped spending much time together, and when we did, it was often talks of our upcoming pilgrimage. She’d say it was an honor to be my Keeper, everyone said so, but in truth, I think she resented me for it.”
Alandris tilted his head in curiosity. “Why exactly do you need someone to protect you? Is it the magic you possess? ”
“I’ve wondered the answer to that question my entire life.” I chuckled bitterly. “My people treat me as though I’m something inhuman—untouchable. They say I’ve been chosen by our God to save them. They say I was born for that sole reason, and in order to do so, I have to become stronger in my magic and recover what has been lost to me.”
“Do you know what’s been lost to you?”
“I wish. That’s all I get—vague prophetic messages. It’s all I am allowed to know.” The tears were welling up in my eyes, as years of withheld emotion rolled off my shoulders. “I’ve never spoken to anyone about this before.”
Alandris used his free hand to wipe a tear from my cheek that I hadn’t realized had fallen. His voice was soft as he spoke, “For you to carry this all on your own since you were a child…” He loosed a sigh. “Those meant to protect us can be so very suffocating. We aren’t pawns designed to service them…” His face was now strained, wearing an expression I had never seen from him.
“I—um. I should…” I pulled back, wiping the rest of the tears from my cheeks. Realizing the closeness between us, my cheeks grew hot, and I shook my hair from behind my ears in an attempt to hide it. “I really have said too much.”
“And yet I have more questions than when we started.” He smiled, looking up at the sky. “If you would, just answer me one final thing?”
“Alright. ”
“Do you wish to continue training your magic? For yourself, not for anyone else.”
A loaded question, and the hardest one he’d dealt to me yet. Not because I didn’t trust him with the answer, but because I fought with myself about it every day. I wanted to save my people and live up to their expectations. Wanted to. Wanted to? Or had to? What would I be if not their savior? It was all I’d ever known. There was no ‘Nairu’ without that goal. I didn’t have one of my own to replace it. The core of his question, though, was freedom. Did I want to be free to make my own choices? I couldn’t keep lying to myself.
“Of course, I do.”
My response, and the confidence with which I spoke it, clearly surprised him. “In truth, I wasn’t expecting you to give me a straight answer.”
“In truth, nor was I.” I nodded my head in thought. “Go ahead and ask your mentor about my power. I want to know who I am. I want to try.”
“I will, then.”
“Kallistra can’t know about this. Any of this,” I warned.
He let out a breath of laughter. “Of course. I value my life.” Alandris lifted himself from the log. “Shall we?”
We were part way down the dirt path when I halted. “Sorry, there’s something else.” Once he’d turned around to face me, I continued. “I meant to ask you what happened. You weren’t yourself this morning… ”
“Ah, yes.” He chuckled to himself. “It was a bit of a spat between Zorinna and me. It all seems a bit trivial now after everything you’ve told me today. We will get over it after a day, as old friends do.”
He seemed fine, but something still sat uncomfortably in my stomach. “I see.”
“Besides, the thing we argued about… She isn’t going to change my mind. I’ll have to change hers.” He patted the side of his neck. “Let’s get back to the others. These should be gone by the time we finish walking.”