10. Chapter Ten #3
Flickering lights from the doors weave in and out of her bright silver hair and long, white robes, like playful moonbeams, and her eyes are closed, so I assume I'm not meant to speak.
When she breaks the silence and begins chanting, her voice raises bumps along my arms and the back of my neck.
It's deep, rich, gravelly, and seems older than the earth, pouring out of her, filling every crack and crevice of the cavernous space.
Step into the grotto, lit by the stars.
And share what’s deep in your heart.
Restorative magic is now yours to claim.
Choose a gift that will set you apart.
Rewards of health, agility, speed.
And two hundred long years of life.
Are instantly yours when you walk through the doors.
To restore sacred lands after strife.
Four choices before you, which door will you take?
The wrong one will come at a cost.
For life without purpose lacks color and joy.
And will make any Wielder feel lost.
The ranger Shields have protections and wards.
While Remedies cure and heal.
Strength and fueling Endurers receive.
The Adaptors create and conceal.
Unlock the door that reflects your dreams.
Choose a power that makes you elite.
Feel the burn of the stars being inked on your skin.
Now a magically charged heartbeat.
The chant echoes for what feels like minutes but could have been hours. When it fades, I feel rather than hear that ancient voice speak again, although the Sage doesn't so much as open her mouth.
"You are here as a daughter, sister, caretaker, lover and friend.
A golden-blooded guardian of Atafye, part of the next generation of protectors.
You have made the oath to help restore what was lost. Now, step into your power and go forth from this sacred place forever changed. Alyxia Reyaal, make your choice."
Her final sentence thunders through me almost painfully, as if striking my chest with each word. If only it really was as simple as choosing what I want. Instead, my mind jumps straight to the people I'll disappoint if I get this wrong.
My parents made it clear they expect me to choose the Remedies and serve the family by becoming a good little healer until it's time for marriage. No doubt the appeal of me being able to cure my father's hangovers and my mother's equally frequent headaches is too strong.
The idea of choosing my magical gift based on that and living my whole life for somebody else fills me with a miserable ache. I know I wasn't born with the kind of patience for dealing with blood and injuries and people in pain, no matter how good it feels to be needed and help others.
And what about what I want? Shouldn't that matter too?
I made the mistake of asking that question once, after watching my big sister follow her path to become an Endurer and attune with her Amplifier. The freedom and friendships and doing something meaningful for our realm was everything I wanted for myself. Except I wanted it with the Shields.
I told my parents, still naive enough to think they would help me prepare like they had with Drea, but they were already seeing her single-minded focus for climbing the ranks and worried it would influence me too much, so my mother dismissed the idea completely.
I'll never forget the look on her beautiful, cold face as she tore the possibility to shreds, leaving no room for argument.
"Girls who look like you do not wear unflattering, skintight leathers and ride horses.
You will become a healer and put your focus where it should be: on securing a good match. "
Whether it was intentional or not, she called out the exact thing that ensured I never brought up the idea up again.
It wasn't like I was ignorant about all the differences between me and my sister after constantly being compared to Drea.
Everything I lack in height, muscle tone, fitness, and coordination, she makes up for and then some.
Whereas my too-soft, too-curvy body has been the bane of my existence for as long as I can remember.
The dagger pulses again. Right; I'm supposed to be making a life-altering decision right now, not deep-diving my insecurities.
I have zero interest in becoming an Endurer and lack the infinite patience required of an Adaptor.
All that trial and error, tweaking, testing, and refining inventions, coming up with new creations and solutions for anything from tiny personal irritations to serious problems impacting the whole kingdom—it's not for me.
I have to be realistic though. Could I really survive even a week of basic training for the Shields? Just once, I want to do something other than what's expected of me.
I'm running out of time. The shapes and colors within each door blur and intertwine, and my thoughts come faster and faster, matched by the speed of my panicky breaths as I weigh the options. Am I really about to do this?
Of course I am; it's never really been a decision. I should have just walked straight in here and spoken the words now forcing their way out of my mouth in a voice that sounds as hollow as I feel.
"I want to be a Remedy."
Pushing my dagger forcefully into the slot in the door covered with plants and flowers in glowing greens, I expect it to become a key or a type of handle. But when I try to turn it, thinking the door will swing open, it doesn't move an inch.
"I choose the Remedies," I say, more firmly this time, pulling the dagger-turned-handle with all my strength. A blast of violet light erupts, along with the shriek of metal on metal, and I'm forcefully thrown backward, narrowly avoiding smashing against the jagged rock wall.
The ancient voice thunders in my head again, this time laced with a cold lick of anger.
"You were warned there would be a cost if you chose poorly.
How can you nurture and restore our ravaged lands when your very body is of the earth, and you refuse to do the same for her?
No one in any realm is simply entitled to magic, no matter what color blood flows through their veins.
A gift that leads you away from your path is not a gift at all. "
Scrambling to my feet, I rush to the silver door of the Shields. With a trembling hand, I move to insert the jeweled blade, but the doors are slowly fading, and her final words turn my blood to ice.
"The path forward has been sealed. No magic can be granted to you on this day."
But I'm a Foundation; four-star strength magic is practically guaranteed. This can't be it. I wait for the Sage to reappear and intervene, to summon the doors and explain this was all a mistake. She doesn't.
I'm alone with the soul-shattering knowledge the Ritual is over for me.
Oh gods, I didn't just choose wrong. I failed the whole damn thing.