Chapter 22 #2
“The Academy was rigorous, and she struggled to keep her head above water... until she found the attention of the Headmaster. He saw great power in her—in both of us. Twins are special in magic, and he had theories about our abilities. We try to force magic into categories, into special boxes—Channelers, Mystics, Runecasters, the Orders... but the truth is more complicated than that. He took his time with her. He was patient when others were not, and Elena flourished under his tutelage. She was like a rare orchid who just needed some tenderness, some care. Roman gave her that.”
Roman Kentigern. That name was beginning to fill Alethea with dread.
“Once she started to accept her magic, he began to push her. He pushed both of us. Elena would have done anything for him, participated in any of his experiments, summoned any amount of power he asked. And after what he’d done for her, I went along with it too.
“The night it all happened, we were taking part in one of his experiments. She seemed... off, but she was determined to help him test whatever theory he’d recently concocted.
He had us summoning more and more power, diving even deeper into our wells of magic.
Then she started to lose control. I... could sense it somehow.
We could never read each other’s minds like Telepaths, but I just knew.
Her lightning started to lash out, breaking windows, equipment.
It became clear to all of us that if she couldn’t stop, she was going to destroy the tower.
We were in the lowest level, with dozens of classrooms and dormitories above us.
If she brought it down, hundreds of people would die.
It was her greatest fear come true... but she just couldn’t regain control.
“I knew there was no coming back for her. I could see in her eyes she’d gone too far.
She’d touched the Weave. She was drowning in it, and it was taking back from her.
I knew I couldn’t save her, but I couldn’t let her last act in the world lead to the death of hundreds.
I reached across to her, and I held her.
I’m not sure how it worked, exactly... Maybe it was because I was her twin, or maybe it was because I’m another lightning Channeler, but I redirected the energy into myself.
I took every single volt as I watched her burn out. ”
Alethea thought of the scars she’d seen that night in the bathing tent, all over Emi’s body. “You... absorbed her powers.”
Emi’s lips twisted into a sad smile. “I held her as the Weave took what she had borrowed. It wasn’t until later that we discovered my well of magic...
it had no bottom anymore. I’ve never even come close to it.
Roman wanted to keep experimenting, but I...
I couldn’t. I nearly dropped out of the academy. ”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I came home for a little while, spent some time with my family, with Nakir and Kerrigan. Mostly, I grieved. Then I started to see my sister in my dreams. She told me to keep going. She made me promise her I would finish my education, that I would graduate, that I would come back home. She said I wasn’t done yet—that I had a part to play in something bigger.
“I knew it would change me. How could it not? How could I come away from something like that without being touched by darkness? I’m lucky...
Nakir and the others accept me, despite the fact I...
am the way that I am. Unfeeling at times.
Able to unleash destruction that sends most people running.
The number of lives I’ve so easily ended...
Sometimes, I wish they would accept me less. ”
“Because you don’t believe you deserve it after what you’ve done?” It was a feeling Alethea knew well. Goran’s beheading came to mind, as well as the young man sitting in the dungeons because of her own actions.
Emi lifted her chin toward her, as if she were surprised to find understanding in Alethea’s words. “Yes.”
“Is that why you and Dawes aren’t...?”
Emi went still for a moment, then let out a short, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks darkening.
“You caught on to that, did you?” She tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling.
“I suppose it’s not exactly subtle, is it.
” It wasn’t a question. A beat passed. “I’m not sure how to be the kind of person someone can love.
” She tucked a few stray hairs behind her slightly pointed ears.
Alethea wished she knew how to comfort her. She wanted Emi to find peace in this world after what she’d suffered, but everything that came to mind felt painfully inadequate.
“Maybe he can show you,” she murmured softly.
Emi managed a sad smile. “Maybe.” She shifted the topic, her voice gentle but probing. “Since we’re on the subject of men, I feel like I should ask how you’re doing.”
Alethea let her head fall back against the headboard, her neck aching. “I don’t know. I’m not good at any of this. At being an Oracle. At being a rebel.”
“At being loved,” Emi added, and Alethea’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“How would I even know?”
“I’m clearly the wrong person to ask,” her friend admitted. “But I love you, as my friend. All you can do is try to make sense of the chaos in front of you. You’ll always have a place with us.”
“Thank you,” Alethea said, squeezing Emi’s hands tighter.
“I’m here for you, whatever you need. We’re leaving in the morning for Edysos, but Nakir mentioned you might not be coming.
I’ll stop by in the morning to say goodbye if that’s the case.
Until then, you should probably get some rest. Drink your tea.
Xytharia said it would help.” Emi gave her a warm smile before slowly extracting herself, leaving Alethea alone with her battered heart.
She drank her tea slowly, not quite recognizing the number of odd tastes and smells.
She had no reason not to trust Xytharia, but she had no idea what kind of herbs a High Priestess of the Primal god of Death would give her.
She sipped slowly, trying not to miss Nakir or wish he’d burst through her doors and wrap her up in his arms and tell her everything would be okay.
Alethea watched the fire die as she slipped away into unconsciousness, her empty teacup forgotten at her side.
The sunlight hit her face late the next morning, and with a sinking dread in her heart, she feared Nakir and his court had left without her. She sat upright suddenly, ignoring the searing ache that tore at her bones.
She knew she should stay. She should let Nakir move on without her. But the voices had visited her in the night and whispered the truths of the universe, and as she awoke, she finally remembered one of them. A single word.
Go.
A plea. A warning. A threat. A promise.
Alethea shoved all her belongings into her saddlebag, pushing past the way her body protested in anguish.
It didn’t matter that Nakir was angry with her, or that he may never draw her close to him again.
All that mattered was that she went with him to Edysos, to see the Great Lord Emre Volkan in his Cerulean Keep and face whatever threat she knew loomed ahead.
Darkness was coming, and not the kind Xytharia wielded.
Not the kind that embraced or soothed. The kind of darkness that ruined and shattered and destroyed.
Heart racing and palms sweating, she rushed to the great hall of the Keep. Several servants bustled about as the morning sun filtered in through the massive stained-glass windows, where she saw Nakir’s soldiers nearly packed up and ready to leave.
She still had time.
Alethea steeled herself and dashed toward the courtyard, searching for the familiar steed that would take her back to Nakir and her friends.
“Not so fast, Princess.”