2. Chapter Two
Chapter two
The recurring dream of wandering alone through that cave in the Grotto is fresh in my mind, the incessant chant echoing in time with my feet on the stairs.
The ranger Shields have protections and wards while Remedies cure and heal.
Strength and fueling Endurers receive, the Adaptors create and conceal.
As if any of us could forget the four branches of restorative magic we get to choose from during the Ritual. To silence the persistent tune, I force my thoughts to today's event checklist as I cross the massive courtyard in front of the glossy, black stone castle I call home.
I make my way down to the heavily guarded greenhouses that open into extensive gardens, acres of vibrant orchards and rippling grain fields.
The rectangular courtyard may be empty this early, but the colorful garden beds already teem with Remedies tending to plants and Endurers using their strength magic to transport crops to the stores or kitchens.
A group of students spread out among the fruit trees, gently unwrapping white netting protecting young leaves and blossoms from harsh winter frosts.
As the two branches of magic with the most Wielders, they can often be found working together—Remedies, with their knowledge of agriculture and healing, combine with the strength, stamina, and nutrition specialties of the Endurers to restore Atafye's lands and help our people thrive.
A warm, maternal voice breaks into my thoughts, "It's impossible to resent being up this early when the sky is putting on such a show, isn't it?
" I follow the upturned gaze of the crinkly eyed woman who has been our kingdom's Head Remedy for over four decades as she takes in the wide expanse of baby-blue streaked with rosy apricot, the heavens blushing at the first kiss of sunlight.
"Good morning, Hortica. Looks like another beautiful day, perfect for a feast or two.
" I return her smile when she lowers her head.
Drawn to her strong magic, a lithe green vine stretches out from the nearby trellis to coil up her arm, growing rapidly to drape around her shoulders.
Tiny buds open into lilac blossoms, trickling around her like a shawl.
"Good morning, sweet girl. You're looking a little more dressed up than you usually would for a day in the Triv."
Glancing at my impractical dress, I flush with embarrassment at how out of touch I'll appear if I don't make time to change as soon as I get down there. "Her Majesty is coming to open the Giving Day festivities, so Mother insisted…" I trail off, not wanting to sound disloyal.
Hortica gives me a knowing smile. "Ah, yes, of course. Well, you look lovely, and congratulations on two years of the program. Quite an accomplishment. You know I'd be there to help if I wasn't needed in the meetings all day."
"I understand. Don't give it a second thought.
None of this would ever have been possible without you.
" She's one of a handful of nobles who have attended a Giving Day, but as the Head Remedy and only woman on the King's Council, she'll be involved with the trade negotiations and discussions with the two other realms that take up most of Renewal week.
"It's very little to do with me and you know it. I am happy to play a small role in such a worthy cause."
"The King and Queen have my gratitude for all their support too. I'm so proud we have the kind of royals who care about all their people, including the ones living outside the city walls."
Four trainees whose names I couldn't begin to guess join us outside the main greenhouse.
"Lady Alyxia, Head Remedy." A young man with floppy blond hair and green eyes nods to the two of us.
"We were told to report here to help load and unload your wagons for something happening in the Triv today. Is everything ready to go?"
Hortica directs them to the huge crates overflowing with fresh produce from the gardens now solely designated for planting food for the people who can't grow crops of their own, thanks to Atafye's severely depleted soil.
I'm mesmerized by the smoke-like wisps trailing from their outstretched fingertips, the different shades of vibrant orange marking Endurer magic wrapping around one crate at a time and easily lifting them into the waiting wagons.
They must have at least three-stars to be able to lift so much at once.
"I'm sure you have a lot to do, so let's get you that supplement allocation so you can head out," Hortica says, beckoning me forward.
I follow her inside the greenhouse and down the sun-strewn passageway toward her office, smiling at the people we pass, heading out to start their work day.
"We whipped up an extra supply of olive leaf and echinacea tincture to go in the baskets this time, to ward off winter illnesses.
And the rosemary was abundant, so be sure everyone gets a few bunches. "
"Thank you, I will. That's very thoughtful," I say warmly as we step through the frosted glass door to where the older woman can almost always be found if she's not out in the gardens or teaching.
It's a jumble of plant clippings, mortars and pestles, strange-looking concoctions in bottles, and even a warded set of shelves in the corner, where only the rarest of unusual tonics, herbs, and texts are secured.
"I was surprised to see your name down as one of the mentors going to the Grotto," Hortica comments, opening a locked metal chest next to her desk to pull out a large white bag with thick rope handles.
"I don't suppose my former apprentice deciding to take up residence there has anything to do with it? I imagine you miss Aubria terribly."
She passes me the heavy bag with a small smile, and I take it, looping the straps over my shoulder next to my satchel.
Father only gave permission for me to leave Raviaz because he thinks mentoring is a more appropriate focus than expanding Giving Day.
Now, Bri's refusing to come home, and I keep waiting for him to change his mind, even if he knows I would never do anything reckless like that.
Naturally, Hortica put two and two together and realized I'm more intent on seeing Bri than anything else.
The Head Remedy knows us both well and is sharp as a tack—very little gets past her.
It makes me proud that, even as a twenty-year-old, I managed to conceal my lack of magic during those first two years after the Ritual, when all new Remedies go through basic training with her.
Thank the Goddess I'm not supposed to invoke for my love of reading and solid memory, or I wouldn't have pulled it off. I barely scraped through by spending every spare minute studying, pretending to compensate for weak magic.
No one from a Foundation family has ever ended up with a one-star tattoo, representing the lowest level of magical strength, so nobody really knew what to do with me after basics.
Father wouldn't hear of me calling attention to my deficiencies by taking a menial role requiring less power, like other one-stars.
And as much as I despise his snobbery, it gave me an excuse to withdraw from the Remedies and find other ways to make myself useful—and invisible.
"You're right, I do miss my sister, and can't wait to see her," I say to Hortica, leaning against the desk briefly to sign for the allocation of precious resources she handed over.
"I think I've taken up enough of your time now though.
I should be going. Thank you again for your support and all the provisions. They're going to do a world of good."
She smiles, pats my arm, and I head back into the brightly lit hallway. Hearing the city bells strike eight times, I breathe a sigh of relief—still plenty of time to get to the bottom of the hill and set up before people start to arrive for their hot meal and baskets of supplies.
Careful to avoid a pile of broken terracotta pots stacked on a low table, I pass the door leading to the next greenhouse and am almost back to the main entrance when a nauseating prickling sensation at the nape of my neck makes me pause and look around.
Come to think of it, it's strange there's no one around when the place was full of people only moments ago.
A large shape in my peripheral has me turning to ask what's going on when I stumble sideways, dropping the bags to catch myself on the smooth metal wall as something icy stabs at my temples. Sharp spikes of pain claw the breath from my lungs, and, before I can call for help, my vision goes black.