2. Chapter 2
THEN
Malik was there the first time my powers acted of their own accord. He doesn't know it, but he was.
He was there for most of my firsts, and I his, as we were born six months apart, me on a hot summer day, and he on a winter's night.
Even from the beginning, we balanced one another out.
Growing up, Malik was always the rambunctious one, pulling us both into schemes that we would just barely scrape out of while I made sure we never got caught.
We had seen every version of each other—from children learning the ways of the world to awkward and rebellious teenagers, unsure of who we were—stumbling our way through all the responsibility that lay on our shoulders together.
Even at a young age, to prepare us to become leaders, we were expected to be more in tune with the goings-on of the village, to raise concern and lead the charge on said issues, to find a solution and to see it through.
It was a burden that shouldn’t have been on any child’s shoulders, but was on ours nonetheless, an integral part of our day-to-day lives.
And when we stumbled, made mistakes that could not be undone, we faced the consequences, and that was where our lessons lay.
We made many mistakes, some more detrimental than others, and yet, no matter how much we faltered, we were always at each other’s sides, as we knew we were destined for one another already, even if we did not quite know what that meant.
The day my powers manifested was just like any other day. We were only eight years old, barely old enough to know the way of things just yet. We ran near the riverbank that lined Sorrel, our breath ragged, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, laughter escaping me as I ran from Malik.
He ran after me, demanding I give his coat back or I would be responsible for his young death if he were to catch a cold. He said it with amusement of his own, our laughter chasing one another on the wind as I continued to run.
I made for the temple that held the Astaros—the tree that we honored in lieu of Rida, being that we were so far north.
Every village outside of Hythe had similar temples, all of them circular and made up of open arches that reached as tall as birds could fly, allowing the air to come through, the breeze often singing against the stone.
Every temple throughout Wellea held Astaros trees, giving the Mother Blessed that did not live in Hythe an easy place to communicate with the Divine and the roots spread all throughout Yllsora, as all Astaros trees directly connect to Rida through the roots beneath the surface.
I knew this was the last place Malik would look.
We only came to the temple when we were with our mothers, the pair of them ushering us along to learn about the Mother and Yllsora, saying it was imperative to our future rule.
And even then, Malik was hesitant to set foot in the temple, usually dragged or bribed inside by our mothers.
I ran into the empty space, triumphant in my escape, and took in the Astaros, standing tall and proud in the middle of the temple, silence filling the air.
The temple was bare except for the Astaros, its spindly limbs and dripping leaves the main decoration alongside a few benches that lined the walls, leaving me an easy target if Malik decided to brave his fear and follow me inside.
To better hide, I scrambled up the branches of the Astaros, giggling to myself as I climbed out of Malik's eyesight. What I was doing was blasphemous, but at that moment, I found I didn’t care.
The only thing that mattered at that moment was hiding from Malik, and I knew he wouldn’t go anywhere near the tree.
I continued to climb the trunk of the Astaros, priding myself on my ability to move swiftly and surely, but I mis-stepped that day, and before I realized it, I was free-falling.
The air whooshed around me, singing in my ears as I fell, weightless in its embrace despite the fear that clawed at. I braced myself to hit the ground that was rising up all too fast in front of my eyes, preparing for impact. But it never came.
The earth rumbled as I fell, a loud cracking sound splitting the air as a scream struggled to leave my mouth. Before I knew it, roots shot up from the ground around me, creating a cradle and catching me just before I hit the ground.
At that moment, I thought it must be the work of the Mother, that she was saving me from an untimely death. But now I know that it was not the Mother at all, but my connection to Yllsora finally manifesting.
Malik had caught up to me by the time the roots lowered me to the ground, my legs trembling as I found my footing.
He ran across the chamber, dropping to his knees next to me as I clutched his jacket around me, still trying to wrap my mind around how the roots had caught me, how they held me in their embrace with the care of a parent to a child.
"What happened?" he asked me. "Are you okay?"
"I think so." I sniffled as we both looked up at the tree. "I was falling, and then suddenly…"
As if they heard me, the branches of the tree began to stretch and wind their way down towards me like curious serpents.
Malik and I both let out yells of surprise as they approached, scrambling away from the tree, causing the branches to scurry back at the sound of our screech, as if we had frightened them off.
We stood in silence for a moment, studying the tree, not quite understanding what we had witnessed.
"This tree has always made me feel strange," he said, looking at the Astaros with uncertainty in his eyes.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I feel… unsettled around it. As if it's always watching me."
I stared up at the tree and traced my eyes down its trunk, all the way to the roots that protruded from the ground beneath it.
The Mother Blessed always spoke of how the trees on Yllsora can see all, how the Mother shows up in ways we never expect, and how we are never really alone, even in the deepest depths of the forest.
I had never understood what they meant until that day.
Kneeling at the base of the Astaros, I looked up and watched as the knots in the trunk of the tree twisted and shifted, taking on the shape of a face, soft and female, smiling down at me.
I was afraid at first, jolting back into Malik's arms as I watched as the branches begin to arch over and blend into one another once more, forming a body with the limbs of the tree.
I shook my head, and moments later, a gust of wind shook the mirage out of my sight, leaving the leaves to drip off the branches as if nothing was there at all.
Malik noticed my astonishment but mistook it for fear, pulling me away from the Astaros as I gaped. "You shouldn't come here by yourself again. Just in case," he said, still studying the tree with weary eyes.
My heart pounded in my chest for an entirely different reason as we exited the temple.
The world was different now—brighter, louder—the surrounding trees alight with awareness that I could now hear them in a way that I could not before.
I looked back at the Astaros once more as we hurried through the door, and to this day, I could have sworn its branches were waving at me, sending me off.
As soon as we returned home, we told my parents what had happened, and later that night, I told my mother of the figure I had seen in the tree, the way it smiled at me and waved as I left the temple.
She knew then that I was a Mother Blessed and that it was time for me to deepen my connection to Yllsora, to finally act on all the signs she had seen in me my entire life.
It was an honor to be one of those who could easily commune with the earth. Yet it opened up a whole new world of unknowns that, at that age, I was not ready to confront. One of them being the loneliness that came with being a Mother Blessed.
My mother wished to guide me through honing my connection with Yllsora but insisted that every Mother Blessed had to deepen their relationship with the Divine, Yllsora, and the roots on their own.
She told me that each Mother Blessed's connection with Yllsora was something intimate, as the earth speaks to us all in the same way, but in different languages.
And as Mother Blessed, it was our duty to translate that language to one another, to continuously expand one another's knowledge of Yllsora.
That is where our real power comes from.
Some found their calling in tending crops, while others found it in healing and herbal medicine and the ability to use our powers to mend broken bones, sickness and other illnesses.
It was up to each of us to find our way.
So, I did just that. I was given a few texts from the very first days of Yllsora's creation on the Mother and Rida and how all things on Yllsora were connected, but was otherwise left to my own devices.
It was lonely, but part of me understood why this had to be done.
There wasn't a way of things yet, for the world was still new, and we were its pioneers.
Every day there were new discoveries, and every day I tried to see the woman in the trees once more, thinking that she would be my guide and the answer to all my questions I had as a young Mother Blessed, but she never showed herself to me again.
Still, even years after that day, I looked for her, that image forever ingrained in my mind, the one thing that kept my faith in the Mother alive.
Despite the absence of the woman in the tree, I continued on my journey, deepening my connection with Yllsora, seeing all the ways the earth and the Mother communicated with me that I had never noticed before.
It was subtle—the difference in the warmth of the sun on my skin, the tickle of the grass beneath my feet, and, most intensely, when I found myself in the Alesi forest.
Malik always accompanied me, whether by my side or a few paces behind me, he was always there.
Even when the elders tried to get him to leave, to let me hone my connection on my own, he wouldn't budge.
Even when I insisted that he didn't need to come with me.
"I will always be by your side," he would say.
He was stubborn, much more than me, still paranoid and frightened about what happened that day under the Astaros tree, even years later.
But I didn't mind him being by my side, seeing he let me have my space.
He didn't try to restrict me in anything, and only wanted me safe.
He let me struggle when I couldn't pull power from the ground as the other Mother Blessed did, stood patiently as I figured things out on my own, even encouraging me when I wanted to give up.
Eventually, Malik's constant presence by my side became accepted. Better to let the son of the second most powerful man in Sorrel do what he wanted—especially when it came to the one he was promised to.
And that's how we came to be known as a set, always sewn together at the hip.
When I wasn't working on my studies as a Mother Blessed, we would bask in the sun or explore the forest right at the edge of the village, going just deep enough to scare us a little.
We would run in the rain, letting the cold water drench our skin until our mothers called us inside, afraid we would catch a cold.
We were inseparable, spending every waking moment together until our families had to pry us apart at dinnertime. Even that was rare, for our parents often dined together, the pair of us sitting next to one another, paying no attention to anything or anyone around us.
As we entered our teenage years, we transitioned from playful children to young adults.
We studied together, reading all the books in the small library Sorrel had to offer.
Some tried to tell us that as we got older we shouldn't be as close, that it was inappropriate for us to be so familiar before we were wed.
Of course, we didn't listen and continued to fall asleep in one another's rooms after reading all night or swimming in the river together or whatever else we had gotten up to that day.
And even from a young age, I knew our friendship was always deeper than those that I had with others.
Malik and I were in sync like I had never seen two people before, barely even needing to communicate most of the time as we could read exactly what the other was thinking by just a glance.
He always knew what I needed before I did, and too often he would appear when I needed him the most—whether it be him delivering me food when I had forgotten to eat, or fetching me from the temple late at night, when I was near sleep under the Astaros from the long days work, he was always there.
It's addicting, knowing someone like that.
Knowing you don't have to explain yourself—that they innately understand and accept you.
It was something I cherished, something I held tightly to my chest and never wanted to let go of.
He was the one constant in my life, the one thing that made the world easier to move through.
I remember those years so fondly, when things were easy and everything was new and full of wonder; the world bright and full of life.
And then we turned nineteen, and the Black Shroud happened. The world went dark without explanation, and those few moments of terrifying darkness made me question everything I thought I ever knew about our world and how it worked…and our safety on it.
Sorrel was a swarm of chaos after the Shroud, and there was nothing more I needed in that moment than the steady presence of Malik, to know he would always be by my side, as he had once said.
Only, the next morning after the Shroud, he was gone. No word of where he went, nowhere to be found.
And then, he was just a distant memory from another lifetime.