I was quick to tear it off me as I entered my room, putting on some warm sweatpants and a thick turtleneck and scarf. I grabbed a jacket from my closet and slipped on the snow boots that Daelon had removed from my feet so carefully last night. Each day felt like a week here.
I sighed, biting back frustrated tears. I needed to go somewhere I could think. That shift from safety to danger had come too quickly, reminding me just how tumultuous our arrangement truly was. And this latest reminder of just how much effort he put into keeping me in the dark was maddening.
When I opened the door, I found Daelon on the other side. He was quick to look me up and down. A flash of panic moved through his features.
“What are you doing?” He stiffened, blocking my path.
“I just need some space,” I said, exasperated. “I’m only going to the circle. Just to meditate and think. Nothing to worry about.”
As annoying as it was to have to spell it out to him, I knew in the logical side of my brain that it was sort of in his DNA to protect me. However, my power was frantic as my emotions spun out of control, so I wasn’t keen on logic currently.
“Please—let me come with you.”
“I don’t think you understand the concept of space,” I said, crossing my arms.
“And I don’t think you understand the concept of safety,” he said. “You’re a danger magnet, Áine. You get into trouble while you sleep, let alone your astral adventures while you meditate. Need I remind you how much more vulnerable you are in this kind of emotional state?”
“I am not in an emotional state,” I hissed, and the sound of a fireplace roaring to life from one—or maybe both—of the living rooms erupted. A kettle wailed in the kitchen.
Not cool, I spoke to the forces around me.
Daelon lifted his eyebrows.
“I said no,” I said. I wasn’t going to budge on this. “I’ll cast a protective circle. I’ll use every single defensive tool you’ve taught me. I just need to be alone for one single moment, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
I watched as Daelon visibly cycled through emotions, from hurt to angry to desperate and back again. It was the hurt look that gave me pause.
“I just need to think,” I repeated. “I’m not going to think my way out of feeling the way I do for you,” I added, quieter this time. “But I need some time alone.”
I noticed his shoulders relax slightly, and with a sigh he moved out of my way. I exited out the glass door, grabbing a blanket from the couch on my way, and descended down the winding wooden staircase. The snow had melted down to a couple inches now, and it crunched beneath my feet as I headed off on the beaten path. Being out in nature instantly soothed me, and my connection to myself and my power strengthened. As I homed in, I could sense the energetic imprint of the circle call out to me from the east.
At the sound of the glass door shutting again I turned back toward the house, where Daelon stood on the balcony.
I hesitated, my free hand balling into a fist and then opening out again at my side, but after a few seconds, I turned back toward the path.
I slowed my breathing, concentrating only on energy. It was hard to squash the thoughts that rose up, taunting me, calling me foolish for how far I’d fallen for Daelon—but I knew that in order to cast a decent circle of protection I needed to have a clear mind. As if on cue I felt him reach out to the corners of my psyche, his energetic imprint unmistakably guarded, strong, and assertive.
What? I asked him telepathically, tuning in to him. I turned off the path at the familiar formation of trees, pushing into the clearing.
Remember to reach out like this if you need help. And also that you need a clear head when you cast the circle. Holding on to negative emotions will make it ineffective, and possibly even more d—
I know! I interrupted him. Stop worrying, please.
I’m never going to stop worrying about you.
I lay down the blanket in the center of the clearing and sat down with a sigh. I mentally cut off our connection, sort of like hanging up the psychic telephone.
I heard the faint chirping of birds, and I breathed in the earthen, woodsy air of the forest, which was tinged with the faint, but unmistakable scent of snow and cold. I practiced the technique Daelon taught me where I locked away my racing thoughts for later, envisioning them disappearing into a locked safe.
I began calling on the raw power that sat in wait, feeling it rush toward my body and send tingles along my skin. Wind whipped in circular movements around me as I channeled, thinking of all things safe, all things stable and impenetrable, all things warm and light and good. I made a circular motion with my fingers, and when I opened my eyes a bright white fire had moved along the perimeter of the clearing, just as Daelon had likely done many times before.
I scanned the area, tuning in to its energies, and when I was satisfied that it was stable, I closed my eyes again and dove inward. I opened the safe, unleashing all of my thoughts once more.
At some point during my trance-like state I’d entered my psychic ocean of energy, feeling the water lap around me as if I were really there. It wasn’t quite on the level of reality as astral projection, as I knew I was still within my own mind, but in some ways, it was hard to tell the difference. Reality as I knew it on Earth simply could not account for how things worked in Aradia. Honestly, if I thought about it too hard my head hurt.
I lay on my back, reaching my hand toward the sky to shift its enchanting, deep blue, into a breathtakingly clear night sky. Now, under the sparkling stars and the varied hues of the Milky Way, I could finally think. I was grounded in the deepest core of myself, the part of myself that felt eternal, connected to people I’d never met and places I’d never seen.
Who am I?
I gave into the pull at my back, letting my body fall below the surface. The stars above distorted and blurred as I was pulled deeper underwater. I reminded myself I could breathe, and I stilled as I gazed around at the murky blue surrounding me.
The energy answered my question, but not in words. It answered in its usual storytelling style of esoteric glimpses into the beyond—all that lay outside of my own personal knowledge and experience. It was the energetic pool of all of existence, and it was unfocused and hard to discern.
Visions of my mothers began to play out in front of me in hazy projections. Momma Celeste clutched her pregnant stomach, and Momma Jane kissed her cheek. As the imagery panned out, I saw others surrounding them, all dressed in white. They were the same people I saw before during my near-death experience. They were chanting in a foreign tongue, a language I knew was connected to the intrinsic fibers of my being.
One of them stepped toward my mothers. Her gaze was focused beyond them, her eyes glassy and white. She looked entranced, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was staring straight at me.
“You will be our salvation from the greed and cruelty of witches disconnected from themselves, so that we may have hope, so that we may preserve the natural power and fabric of this realm, the one below and the ones above, so that we may once again live in peace on our sacred lands, so that we may honor the Goddess, representing balance, compassion, truth, and unity—our guiding light through the darkness and the essential wholeness of the Universe.”
Her voice trailed off. The more I tried to hold on to the vision, the quicker it disappeared. A cascade of chills ran over my body. This was another piece of the puzzle of who I was, and I couldn’t shake the warmth and serenity that radiated out from these people—my people. My heart ached knowing that they were all most likely dead, slaughtered by the forces that led my mothers to flee to Earth.
I wondered if the woman was referencing Lucius and his people when she mentioned witches who were disconnected from themselves. The cruelty sure met the description, and Daelon seemed to imply he was at least as powerful as I was, if not more. Was I the Universe’s way of maintaining balance, just as my mothers said? Just as Daelon hinted at? But then how did L
ucius disrupt that balance, and how was I to restore it?
There were just so many questions. I needed to learn who my people were, where they came from, and what happened to them. I knew this was key to unlocking my fate. I wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of fulfilling the purpose they’d instilled in me, not even Daelon.
But I didn’t want to consider the idea that Daelon was somehow keeping me from this grand plan. Not yet. It was far too painful. I wanted to believe his intentions were honorable until he gave me a reason not to, consequences be damned.
In an act of desperation, hoping that my power would once again confirm that Daelon was who he appeared to be, I asked: Who is Daelon? Can I trust him?
I sent my intention out into the water, then watched as an image began to take shape. I just hoped it was something helpful.
The projection that emerged was of a young boy running through the streets of a vaguely European-style village, ashes falling all around him like snow. The buildings were scorched and crumbling as if rampaged by a great fire or an explosion.
“Mom!” the boy screamed, his voice hoarse. His face was covered in soot, his clothing tattered.
At this point I knew it was a young Daelon, and the image broke my heart.
He frantically searched and called for his mother. Tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t have been more than eight years old.
“Hello there,” a woman’s voice called.
I watched as the boy halted and turned around, but I couldn’t see who he was looking at. He looked petrified, backing up slowly with his eyes wide.
“I think they killed my dad,” he said, sniffling. “Who are you? Will you help me find my mom?”
A second voice spoke, but it was warped and distorted. The vision went black suddenly, and a strong force pushed me back toward the sky.
In my confusion I breathed in some water, spluttering and coughing when I breached the surface. I sucked in fresh air, centering myself.
I wasn’t sure what the Universe was trying to show me with that vision, other than a glimpse into what appeared to be a traumatic childhood. Hot tears slid down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed with sadness for him. I almost felt guilty for intruding on something so private, so tragic, that he himself wasn’t able to tell me. Then again, it wasn’t like I consciously went looking for it. Something beyond my understanding wanted me to see this memory fragment.
I looked back up at the stars, feeling so conflicted that I physically felt pulled in all different directions—and it was excruciating. Even in my universal ocean, that which connected me to everyone and everything, I felt utterly alone.
Chapter 18
When I snapped back into the present moment, the sun was just starting to descend in the sky. Dried tears stained my cheeks, and my fingers were numb, even inside my gloves.
I wasn’t sure how to approach Daelon after all that I had just seen. Did I tell him about the uncovered piece of his childhood? I figured considering the lengths he went to avoid talking about it, combined with our current tension, it was best to leave it be for now.
While I hadn’t received the clarity I needed, my inward journey had at least grounded me in a reminder of the bigger picture. Daelon and I were connected. And seeing him in those heartbreaking moments only cemented that fact. I surmised from my vision and given his talk of parallel pasts and common enemies, that his parents were likely killed by the same people that mine were. He told me in bed that I gave him hope, and that I reminded him of where and who he came from. That was just too similar to all that I’d seen in visions and had been told by my mothers about my purpose. He was a part of this overarching puzzle. I just had to figure out how.
I decided that despite my lingering frustrations, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt for as long as I could.
I only hoped that this was the right course of action, and my judgement wasn’t being clouded by my feelings for him. All I had right now was the mysterious, murky guidance of my universal power. I needed to listen to what my mothers always told me:
Trust your intuition, Áine.
At this point, my intuition leaned in Daelon’s favor.
I pressed my hands down on either side of the soft, plaid blanket, releasing the energy of the protective circle. I watched as the white fire extinguished gradually along the perimeter, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
I got up slowly, dizzy from all the psychic exertion. It was like I was walking on a cloud, not quite reacclimated back to physical reality.
As I walked back to the house, I ran through a hundred different scenarios of what to say to Daelon, but none of them seemed right. My feelings for him were overshadowed by something bigger than us both. After all I had just seen, I couldn’t help but feel the decisive force of fate resting on my shoulders—like I was a cog in the machine of a grand plan I had yet to uncover.
When I made it up the stairs, I found him sitting back in one of the patio chairs, facing a lit firepit. His body relaxed as I approached and took a seat next to him, my stomach fluttering as he set his intense gaze on me.
“Any transformative insights?” he asked, his features guarded.
You don’t even know the half of it.
“Yes, actually,” I said, considering my next words carefully. “I saw more about who I am, in that ocean, and I… There’s something so much bigger than us at play.”
“I know,” he said, staring off at the setting sun.
I watched him carefully, but his features were still unreadable. “I know that something happened to my mothers’ people—to my people—and I know it’s connected to what happened to my mothers, and to why I was born. I know that I was born from magick. Powerful magick,” I said, speaking aloud the web of truth I already knew.
Daelon stared at me fiercely as something unknown flashed in his eyes.
“They hid me on Earth until the time was right for me to return. They hid me from him, I assume, and whoever else took part in the cruelty that cast a shadow over this realm.”
I faltered, remembering the scared young Daelon running through the streets. I saw a brief flicker of that fear in his eyes now.
“And even though I still don’t know how or what I’m going to do to fulfill my purpose, I know that I will fulfill it. No matter what it takes.” I kept my voice level and strong. The fire beside us rose higher in the air.
“I will do whatever I can to help,” Daelon said. “Even if you don’t understand my methods,” he added, almost wistfully.
Well, he was right about that. “I will believe you until you give me a reason not to, at which point I will figure everything out myself,” I said, an edge to my voice now.
I knew the threatening tone would bother Daelon, anger passing through his features right on cue. I didn’t want to challenge him. But I had to.
He regained his composure quickly, but I didn’t miss the moment of anxiety swimming in his dark brown eyes. I didn’t need clairsentience to tell me what he was afraid of.
I sighed, but then pushed up and crawled into his lap. It caught him off guard, his body stiffening at first before snaking his arms around me.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said as a rare vulnerability seeped into his words.
“I don’t want to lose you either.”
He kissed my forehead then brushed a strand of hair from my face.
Nothing lasts, I thought, and a lump formed in my throat. The natural state of all things was change. This was what my mothers taught me.
I buried my face in his sweater, breathing his scent in deeply to commit it to memory. He held the back of my head in one hand, his other arm holding me tight to his chest. The warmth from the fire was hot against my back.
My mind flashed to how I felt floating in the ocean, staring up at the Milky Way. I realized with a great sadness that even here in Daelon’s arms, I still couldn’t let go of that deep, pervasive sense of loneliness.
As we ate dinner, we both failed at our favorite ga
me of pretending to be normal. The energy between us had definitely shifted. There was a desperation now, like we were running from inevitability and hiding from fate.
“You’re barely eating,” Daelon said, pulling me from my daze. He shot me a disapproving look across the dining table. We sat facing each other at the end, closest to the wall with the ocean painting.
I couldn’t stop glancing up at it, getting lost in the blue brushstrokes of the waves and the dotting of multi-colored sand. I remembered both of my mothers’ individual stories of this place—where they said magick lived and danced in the salty wind and washed away the badness in its tide. And as I envisioned these crashing waves, the loneliness began to lose its hold on my psyche.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, shifting my gaze back to him.
He cocked his head, his brows drawn together. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want to make sure you’re staying strong,” he murmured.
I actually hadn’t meant to apologize; I just wasn’t paying attention. I kept that to myself, though.
“I told you I would take you there,” he said, glancing up at the painting himself. “If you still want to go.”
“I’ve been there a million times,” I said quietly, almost to myself. I lost myself in the brushstrokes once more, feeling an unshakable calling, a pull stronger than the gravity that tethered me to the earth.
There was something there I needed to see.
Daelon frowned. “Áine, look at me,” he said.
It was nearly painful to pull my eyes from the painting back to him. I wasn’t sure what had come over me.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head slightly, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. I just had a weird… witch feeling. I don’t know.” I felt compelled to speak again, this time more certain. “But yes, I would love to go.”
“It’s been a long few days. Well, weeks, really. You need rest,” he said, still eyeing me with concern. He muttered something lower, unintelligible, but it almost sounded like while you still can.
The Discovered Page 19