2. Raelyna
RAELYNA
Wind whipped and howled while the summer sands cut across my skin as I made my way through the towering buildings in the Nox District. I was used to the brutal strength of the desert winds during summer, but for some reason, this season had been worse.
The lights flickered, then changed—the neon glow indicating it was safe to cross.
I found myself wishing more than anything that I could be flying through the night skies right now, gliding on drafts of wind as I soared high above the skyscrapers lining the streets.
But I’d learned over a century ago that you don’t fly when the desert sands roll through the city.
A flight in sandy skies meant enduring the unending terror of small speckles of sand assaulting you for the next few weeks.
It was an excruciating ordeal, a painstaking process of removing each small grain of sand that had embedded itself between your feathers. I had cried for an entire week after my first flight during a sandy sky, unable to get rid of the infernal itch from sand grating my feathers wrongly.
I shuddered just thinking of calling on my wings in this weather, before I tugged my hood lower than usual.
I hurried through the district, making my way to the outer wall.
The towering limestone slabs had been raised far before my time.
Over the years, apartments and townhomes had been built into the outer edge of The Wall.
Now, The Wall was used not only to keep those from other Quarters out (or to keep us in, depending on who you asked), but also to house citizens of Solis.
Most citizens of Solis preferred to live in the newly constructed skyscrapers in the center of the Quarter, which meant The Wall was inhabited by those with lower affinity markings—those who couldn’t afford the astronomical rent payments.
In addition, all members of the Royal Solis Guard were assigned living quarters along the Outer Wall, meaning my family had lived by the western side of The Wall ever since my own father had become a Solis Guard.
My parents had moved us into a townhome when I was younger and while I would always consider it my home, I had moved into my own apartment unit a few blocks down along The Wall a decade or so after my markings appeared.
I used to have fond memories of spending time with members of the RSG—times when they’d felt like family.
However, that felt like a lifetime ago. It hadn’t been that way since my father had passed away over a decade ago, and since my middle sister’s marking day had gone awry.
Now, I stayed far away from the RSG—from any association with the royal family—when it could be helped.
I ducked into an alcove as a strong gust of sandy wind tore down the street.
The doorman standing watch outside the alcove glared at me, his eyes narrowing in on my visible forearm even in the low light from the apartment complex.
My left forearm, the one that was expected to always be visible in public, the arm that bore my markings.
“Get a move on,” he snapped, annoyance coating his words. “We don’t welcome lowers here.”
I sighed heavily, dipping my head even further as I left the alcove, another strong wind racing through the streets.
My forearm itched as minuscule granules of sand prickled at the exposed expanse of flesh, and I wished, for the millionth time in my hundred and twenty-nine years of existence, that I could hide the markings on my skin.
A singular mark in black ink that highlighted my elemental affinity marked me as a lower affinity.
I stared down at the triangle inked into my skin, at the upward-curved line inside it marking me as a water affinity.
The mark dictated what districts I could live in and what jobs I could work.
All based solely on my magical abilities.
On my affinities that appeared on my Marking Day.
Our markings lie dormant under our skin for two decades before they are revealed, each unique to that person, regardless of your family or status.
In Solis, your Marking Day decided everything—where you lived, what you were worth, what jobs you could hold—that could change your fate forever.
Most citizens of Solis Quarter had one, maybe two, elemental affinities: water, fire, or earth.
It was rare to have all three elements. It was even rarer to receive an aetherial affinity mark.
Aetherial affinities didn’t need nature to use their magic.
They were the healers, the linguists, the seers, the illustratio—who could shield—and, most rare of all, the vitas—those who could control life and death.
Those were the abilities the king sought out.
To my knowledge, an angel born with a vitas affinity hadn’t been born in Solis since before The Wall went up.
On my arm, the black mark for the water affinity stood out, stark against my softly golden skin. I was a lower. Marked by only one elemental affinity, I could hardly even muster enough water to fill my drinking glass. Pathetic, really.
My steps quickened as the Outer Wall came into sight, and I sped up, anxious to stop by and see my youngest sister before picking up a shift at our family bar—the Tilted Tavern. With hurried steps, I crossed the street before taking the stairs up to my family’s townhome on The Wall.
I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the ninth floor as the machine whirled to life and I shot upward to the unit.
When The Wall had been refortified, the royal family had designed it to provide additional housing—mainly for the guards, at first. The units were identical in shape and size, with only one main hallway on each floor.
When the doors finally slid open, I stepped into the beige-colored hallway, making my way toward my family’s home.
The overhead lights flickered, a bright white light casting over the hall as I stopped in front of Unit 1437.
Lifting my palm, I pressed my fingertips against the sensor by the door.
I felt the light heat as the sensors read my fingerprint, then waited until the familiar ding rang out and the door clicked open, announcing my arrival.
No sooner had I stepped into the space than a familiar shriek of excitement rang through the air.
“Raelyna!” my youngest sister, Kira, exclaimed as she leapt off the couch. “It’s been three days.”
“Miss me?” I teased as I tugged my sister into a hug.
I pulled back slightly, studying her, a near-identical mirror of my own reflection, with golden skin that darkened in the sun, unruly dark brown curls, and soft sea-glass hazel eyes.
The only difference between us, other than our stark age contrast, was the scattering of freckles I had dusted over my nose and cheekbones.
“Something like that,” Kira replied. “It’s lonely here. With mom always at the Tilted Tavern now that dad’s gone and Orela working there as well . . . the house feels so empty. But you know that . . .” Her words faded.
And I did, seeing as I too helped pull shifts at the tavern multiple times a week.
Nothing had been the same since my father had been killed. My thoughts flickered back toward the betrayal that had altered our lives.
I could still remember the king reading off the list of supposed crimes my father had committed against the Quarter—treason, espionage, turning from the gods.
I remembered the look in my father’s eyes as the king finished his list. The words “You won’t get away with this.
The darkness you’ve unleashed won’t prevail,” falling from his lips.
And I would never forget the way the former king had merely laughed before demanding his son pull the trigger.
Shaking my head, I focused back on my sister.
“I know,” I replied to Kira. “It’s still going to take time for our mother to come back from this. For us, too.”
My younger sister nodded, even as silver drops rimmed her eyes. We had all taken our father’s death poorly, but I knew it hit Kira the most. Having only been eight when he passed, Kira had missed out on so much with our father.
“How are you feeling about your Marking Day?” I asked, my gaze sweeping over my sister as we settled down onto the couch, the worn beige fabric pulling taut in places.
Our family home was a patchwork of worn furniture, chipped glassware, and mismatched colors, creating a worn, yet cozy atmosphere that I had grown to love.
Old magazines with frayed pages sat in a pile on the coffee table, the corners folded to certain pages my sisters and I had liked.
A half-drank mug of lavender and valerian root tea rested on a faded coaster from the Tilted Tavern on the end table beside Kira.
Kira fidgeted beside me, picking at the skin around her nails, unable to make eye contact with me as her words came out in a barely audible murmur.
“What if it happens to me, too? What if I mark as an aetherial affinity too? If I’m sentenced to go work in the temples for the king, like Orela was. What if—”
“Kir, it’s going to be okay. What happened to Orela isn’t going to happen to you.
I’m sure you will mark as an elemental affinity, or maybe as a healer—that wouldn’t be so bad.
” My heart ached inside as my thoughts flickered toward our middle sister, who had undergone her own marking eight years ago.
My fingers began to absentmindedly trace over the bargain mark on the inside of my wrist, tracing over the symbol repeatedly—a habit I had picked up exactly eight years ago—as I vividly remembered my middle sister marking with the aetherial affinity of a seer.
The mark burned faintly, like it was reminding me of just what I’d traded to have the symbol inked on my wrist.
It was the day my life had changed. I refused to have my sister work directly for Lucanus—trapped in a life of servitude at the temples.
Not after what Luc had done to my father, after what he had taken from us already.
I wouldn’t let him take Orela’s freedom as well, so I had done the only thing I thought to do.
“You don’t know that,” Kira protested. “Orela can’t fly anymore, and while she may have more freedom than other seers—”
I cut her off. “Kira, stop.” I grabbed my sister’s hands, stopping her from shredding her nail beds further as she looked me in the eyes, sea-glass orbs much like mine, ablaze with terror for her future.
“Orela is safe. Yes, her wings were clipped, as seers’ wings are.
But she still has her freedom. She’s not required to serve in the temples, and you won’t be either.
You won’t be tied to the royal family no matter what you mark as, I promise you that. ”
Her eyes watered as she looked up at me. It fractured my heart that my sister was so scared for something that should be a special moment—the moment you received your affinities and wings . . . the moment you could take to the skies.
“You don’t control what markings you will receive—not a single angel in all of Aurelia can. Each person receives their own markings as decided by the gods. Stop worrying about something that only the gods can control. It’s going to be okay, I promise you that much.”
My youngest sister reluctantly nodded, leaning into my side as we sat in silence on the couch for a few moments longer, soaking in the time together. I absently stroked her hair, unknotting her tangled curls as I prayed to the gods that it would be okay.