Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
NISSA
Cillian grabs my hand and we begin walking towards a muddy river bed as soon as Niko blows away. His energy is different here and it settles the roots that had begun twisting in my belly. A feeling that I always get when left alone with him.
“Where are we going?” I ask with a smile on my face. The excitement that is flowing from him is contagious and I barely even note the tingling in my fingers that are intertwined with his.
He looks over his shoulder with a broad grin but doesn’t say anything. I giggle at the mischief that lights his eyes as he drags me further into Aquaria.
When we stopped at the edge of the river, his excitement shifted to something of uncertainty. As I take in the murky waters he kneels down, his boots sinking into the mud. A sour, rotted smell fills the air around us.
A white crust coats the base of the plants at the edge of the waterways. They hang wilted and defeated by whatever it is that is killing them from the roots up. Bending down I rub the blight between my fingers. Standing I lift it to my nose, trying to identify the substance.
“Is it…” I begin.
“Salt.” He answers without looking up at me.
He is still crouched at the edge of the water, unmoving.
“With the fading current in the fresh waterways, the waves from the ocean have forced their way up the rivers. Bringing the salt with it. When the balance is broken like this…” his voice changes, low, reverent like he is grieving.
“The fresh water is drowning, it isn’t strong enough to fight the tide and the poison it brings. ”
He reaches his hand out slowly, hovering above the silt filled water. I drop down next to him when I notice a slight tremble in his fingers. The hem of my skirt drinking up the element and the silt that surrounds us.
He looks over at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. Returning his attention back to the stagnate water, he lowers his hand. Ripples stretch out in response to his touch and he shuts his eyes.
I sit quietly giving him the moment he needs.
But then something happens. I feel it before I see, or understand, what is happening.
The river lets out a breath, the current shifting in response.
As if the water recognized Cillian as an old friend that had come to visit his dying companion in their last moments.
Cillian doesn’t open his eyes but he starts to move his hand, skimming his fingertips through the surface of the water.
Suddenly the silt begins to settle and the tide begins pushing the salt back towards its rightful home.
It is slow. So slow, I think it might be a trick of light that is shining down from the sun.
But it isn’t. The water is changing. Transitioning from a brown, rudish color to pale before finally clarity blooms through the water.
Not all the way across the river, but right around Cillian’s hand. I can feel the land around us reacting. Dryrds calling out in the distance and I swear even the reeds perk up like they are looking for the source of potential relief to their pain.
It is too much to contain. “Cillian,” I laughed out his name in a huff of disbelief. I have not seen anyone else develop powers before their majority.
“How long have you had your magic?” I asked, still staring into the now clear window of water.
“I- um,” I look over at him after he releases a shocked laugh himself. “today, it seems.” His eyes are wide when they stare back at me and a bark of laughter erupts from him.
A smile cuts across my face at the thrill that I can sense from him. Reminding me of my first show of magic and the exhilaration it brought with it.
Nova and I had been playing in the garden when we realized it. It was small for both of us but it was clear what was happening.
We ran to tell mother and found her with Isolde. Nova burst through the doors ahead of me, “Mother look!” She squealed, tugging on the flowing silver skirt of her dress when we weren’t immediately provided with the attention we requested.
“Our magic mama!” She squealed again, forgetting the proper titles we were instructed to use in a moment of childhood excitement. This time sending the smallest breeze across the papers they studied. Isolde froze and mother’s attention shot to us.
Mother crouched down in front of us, cupping Nova’s face. “Show me again!” she whispered. I watched on as the tendrils that fell around our mother’s face blew backwards like they stood outside in the breeze, not in a stuffy office.
But I also watched Isolde’s face. Her jaw clenched so tight I thought it may shatter. When she turned her wide eyes on me, the fire simmered there.
“And what about you? Have you found your powers as well?” She said it kindly, but something lay beneath it, like the lava that now flows under the obsidian in the fire lands.
Nova turned her bright eyes to me, ready to share the news with them.
“No,” I quickly said before she could answer for me, like we so often did back then. “Only Nova.” The smile that lit my twin’s face drops, her eyebrows dipping low. But she knew not to say anything. We could read each other.
“How is this possible?” Cillian questions as he stares into the water. He pulls his hand out of the water and we both look on as the silt slowly begins to swirl again as soon as it senses his absence.
I press my hand to his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze as I stand.
“I have done a lot of research over the years. There wasn’t much- well anything- in the Solevarian libraries since no twins have existed through the histories.
But in the human world they are common.” He stands to face me, wiping his wet hands down the side of his pants.
“Ophe did some digging when she visited the human world. It seems there are a lot of legends there about twins who had heightened powers before and after the worlds separated.” I pop my shoulder.
“Based on that I believe it has to do with the fact that we are twins. And well-” I gesture towards him, “this supports that.”
“But Nova didn’t have her powers. Caspien doesn’t.” A soft smile spreads across my face. Even through all the ash, smoke, and mud he is still so handsome.
“Nova did.” I say, sadness edging my voice. I look down at the water, staring at the previously clear spot.
“No, she didn’t.” He is so sure.
“No?” I ask with a smirk. He runs his hand back through his hair.
“Nova and I got our powers the same day. Your mother knows but didn’t seem too happy about it.
I left not long after that so I didn’t know for sure until recently but she was told not to use them.
Or at least to not share that she had them.
” I found notes in Nova’s journal about how hard it had become to contain her powers as she got closer to our birthdate.
We walk around Aquaria a little longer discussing what this could mean for the elemental lands but it is clear that right now the magic won’t maintain against the Goddess’ destruction. Whether it is because we aren’t strong enough yet or because Gaia’s power is so strong, we don’t know.
When we rematerialize in the castle I immediately head back to my rooms to wash away the day that coats my skin. But as I come to the end of the hall voices float towards me.
Despite my desire to be clean, the magic in my veins alights, urging me in that direction. Tiptoeing, I approach Isolde’s study. Pressing myself to the wall. I refuse to look through the crack having learned that lesson last time when I got caught.
“Let me get to know her better.” Caspien’s words slip through the door jamb.
“Absolutely not.” Isolde snaps back.
Are they talking about me? My brows furrow. Why would she not want me to get to know the male I’m supposed to be bound to for the rest of our lives? Her own son at that.
“As I said, we need her,” Isolde adds.
Caspien snorts a laugh, confusing me even further.
“Keep yourself distracted with whomever you need to. And for Goddess sake stay away from her. She is already too skittish.”
Is Isolde encouraging him to cheat? On me? What messed-up dynamics are going on here? Was Nova running away from this?
“Do we need her?” Kiel’s deep timber pulls me from the swirling thoughts.
The air is suddenly thick around me, my limbs heavier. I’ve asked the same question over and over: Am I important?
But the little girl inside of me—the one who has always felt disposable—recoils.
“Do not be foolish,” Isolde answers. “If it were up to me, I would send her away again myself. But we can’t risk her not being on that altar. I shudder to think of the risks.”
The ringing in my ears drowns out the conversation.
I should be relieved. They just confirmed that they want me for nothing more than my birthdate. And they don’t think they actually need me either. I’m just a safety net. I already suspected all of this. It should eliminate any guilt around me leaving.
I should be furious. So why does my heart feel like it was just ripped from my chest?