Chapter Twenty
Fear And Flames
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The Summit of the Floating Mountains, Nythanor.
Kyra.
‘Oh, fuck off,’ Kyra murmured under her breath as she slammed shut another useless dusty old book and added it to the growing pile on the table beside her.
Each one had proved to be a dead end, another philosophical retelling of crystals and their individual healing uses and magical tendencies.
Not one of the books had anything to say on the most famous crystal known to mortalkind.
The one crystal Kyra really needed to know everything about if she were to track its whereabouts.
Not fucking amethysts and their calming nature.
She’d need to bathe in a thousand amethysts to relieve the stress that arose every time she thought about the Eye and her bargain with Lilion.
It hit her every now and then, that exponential panic.
With every second that ticked by, Oslan’s freedom pulled further and further away from her.
Instead of resting as the Air Warden had suggested after the wine-fuelled evening the night before, she’d snuck through the temple at the crack of dawn and sought out the little library a floor above the crypts just off of the west stairwell, and got to work scouring through any book with the mention of a crystal, or Dohra the Unintended Mother of the Void.
To no avail.
Well, technically, there had been plenty of Dohra and her obsession with the Void, but barely a mention of the black crystal she’d been imprisoned in, along with her miraqni, for the last thousand years.
A faery suddenly whizzed before her and sat upon a night black book from a particularly dusty shelf whose cover read: ‘MORTALS TO MOTHERS: ASCENSION TO DIVINITY’.
Promising.
‘Do you trust me now?’ Kyra asked the faery, pulling the book from the shelf. The little creature floated in the air above her, watching. ‘Here’s hoping.’
Kyra flipped through the pages, eyes working hard to scan for any mention of Dohra.
It seemed even historians whose livelihood relied on recording the happenings of history were reluctant to divulge any information ascertaining to the Fifth Mother, for it wasn’t until the last few pages that she saw the Void mother’s name.
She let the book fall fully open, and read:
“A name almost unspeakable for its connexions to such evil, the Fifth Mother’s demise is one that is still speculated by many, though very few know the true resting place of Dohra the Unhinged.
However, through worldwide acknowledgement of the Mothers defeat of their unhinged sister, we can safely assume that Dohra and her demons will remain bound for eternity in her stony prison.
Under the Four Mothers watchful eyes, She of the Void and Fifth Element would be imprisoned forever more.
Thus, Droria found its natural state of harmony, of peace, knowing that this certain evil was buried to time. ”
And that was it. There was no other mention of the Void Mother in the entire volume.
Kyra slammed the book shut, sighing.
It was hard to believe it was mere coincidence that the information she required seemed impossible to come by.
Perhaps Naal had deliberately taken any trace of the Eye off the shelves. An evil she’d rather not have in her beloved temple… even in the form of harmless words on a crinkled page.
A few more glowing faeries began fluttering around her head. One of them landed atop the discarded pile of books, still and staring at her, though even with Kyra’s keen eyes she could not make out the tiny features.
‘What do you think?’ she asked them. ‘Am I wasting my time searching here?’
The faery, of course, did not reply. Instead, they dove from the mountain of books and buried themselves in between the pages of the night black tome she’d just scoured through, then peeked out, as if to see if Kyra was still watching.
‘Very impressive,’ Kyra told them, then added under her breath as they flew away, ‘and not at all helpful.’
‘You know they cannot talk?’
Kyra turned around to see Zuriel in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. ‘Yes, I know, but thank you for your insight,’ said Kyra as she began returning the useless books to their places on the shelves.
Zuriel just stood there, watching her, eyes narrowed as if trying to read the titles of each book she put back.
With forced civility, Kyra asked, ‘Did you need something?’
‘Yes,’ she retorted, leaning against the door frame, smoky wings flaring slightly. ‘Naal is looking for you. I believe she wants to complete at least one lesson in your magic before you leave tomorrow. She awaits you on the summit.’
A churning began in Kyra’s stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. ‘Ah,’ she muttered with a nod as she crammed the last book into the small gap it had come from. ‘How fun.’
‘Oh, I am sure it will be,’ Zuriel said. ‘After all, you are a Warden. Magic is in your nature.’ She smiled, but it was too sweet, too knowing. ‘Good luck.’
Any pity Kyra had felt for Zuriel the night before evaporated. When she was sure Zuriel had gone far enough to be out of earshot, Kyra asked the cluster of faeries buzzing above her head, ‘Is she always such a bitch?’
She took the answering silence as a resounding yes.
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Kyra liked to think she was in fairly good physical shape.
But the endless steps leading up and out to the summit of the Floating Mountains almost made her keel over.
She finally arrived on the top step, her breath spilling fast and furiously from her mouth, puffing clouds against the freezing air. At least the sweat dripping down her spine was somewhat warming.
Before she could take another step, a great squawk sounded and a bird as big as any man landed in front of her, wings outstretched, its shimmering brown and golden feathers splayed threateningly.
Its beak alone could have pecked both her eyes out with one snap, and the look in its own beady eyes seemed as though that was exactly what it wanted to do.
Kyra immediately went for her dagger, her fingers wrapping around its hilt.
‘Do nothing,’ Naal sternly called out from behind the great bird, then gave two high pitched, domineering whistles.
The effect was immediate; the hawk slowly lowered its wings, tucking them tightly to its body, then moved to the side to let Kyra pass.
It gave her a smug side glance as she did, proud it had spooked her.
Just left of the colossal mountain’s peak, was a circular pit surrounded by cascading steps carved into the thick ice. And standing in the centre, with her hands clasped behind her back and clad in thick billowing robes of silky lilac, was Naal.
‘Good evening, Kyra,’ she said warmly as Kyra approached.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Kyra replied, wide-eyed as she gazed around at the immense darkening sky, streaked with dusk’s pastel palette.
‘I promised I would teach you how to wield your magic,’ Naal said. ‘Though our course has been changed, I would still like to uphold my promise as best I can.’ She sat down where she was, lithe hands clasping her knees. ‘Sit before me.’
Kyra obeyed, begrudging the cold that bit into her legs the moment they touched the ground, even with the mothsilk cloak between her and the snow.
‘Close your eyes.’
‘What does this have to do with magic?’
‘Close your eyes, Kyraena.’
‘It’s just-’
‘Kyra. Close your eyes.’ Mimicking Naal’s position with hands on her knees, Kyra finally let her eyes shut.
‘Normal magic, the kind of magic used by humans and fae alike, is easy enough to wield if you have the patience to do so. Warden magic, however, is a power that takes much greater concentration. Before you learn how to use either, you need to know how to differentiate the two.’
‘How do I do that?’
‘Keep your eyes closed, Kyra.’
‘They are!’
Naal continued as though there had been no interruption, ‘Ordinary magic resides in the body. Your blood, your bones, your organs. It lives and thrives in the physical being. The more connected a person is to their body, the more connected to their magic they will be. For a few moments, remain perfectly still and focus on nothing but your breath.’
Kyra wiggled slightly in an attempt to dislodge a lumpy bit of snow beneath her, then she forced herself to be as still and placid as Naal was.
It was damn near impossible.
Her left nostril whistled softly with each breath out. After the fifth exhale of trying to ignore it, she aggressively rubbed at her nose in an attempt to clear whatever blockage was causing the annoying sound.
‘Be gentle with yourself.’
‘My nostril is masquerading as a fucking flute, Naal,’ Kyra snapped back. ‘I’m trying to shut it up.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘If you’re laughing-’
‘Let us try something else,’ Naal said hastily, and Kyra could have sworn there was a smile on her voice.
‘Feel the mountain beneath you. The earth that holds your body. Let it ground you. Notice the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the consistency of its beating.’ Naal’s voice was a breeze in itself, and it had a serene effect on her nerves. Like a sedative potion.
How did she do that? Kyra knew she was being difficult… how did Naal remain so patient with her?
She exhaled all the breath from her body and put a hand to her chest, feeling for the pulse beneath. It softly thumped against her hand as if to say, I’m here. You’re not alone.
‘Good, Kyra,’ Naal whispered. ‘Now feel for the magic residing in your blood. What does it feel like?’
Pulsating with her heartbeat was something else. Something fresh and sparkling. Her excitement peaked as she felt it, could feel- ‘A tide. It’s like… a moving current of… of lightning.’
‘Yes. Now, open your eyes,’ Naal said. Kyra obeyed, and there really was a smile on the Air Warden’s face now.
Not mocking, but proud. ‘What you felt then was your magic, right at the source. Many forget that, as they usually learn how to wield it at such a young age. But your magic is new to you. I imagine it felt quite strong?’
Kyra nodded.