Karramis, still standing, answered, “Well, I’m the only one who can carry an intelligent and interesting conversation with myself these days.”
“Hey!”
Laughing, Karramis sat down and nudged her sister. “I’m just joking. Lighten up, Kavana.”
“Oh. Yeah, I knew—” She wrinkled her nose as she examined the room. “Ugh! What the heck is that smell?”
The charred blanket was still smoldering in the corner of the room.
Concerned, Kavana asked, “It happened again, huh?”
“Shh!” Karramis bolted up and closed her bedroom door. “Someone is going to hear you.”
“Calm down. No one’s even here right now.”
Karramis headed back over to the bed. “Oh. Well, that’s good.”
“You need to tell Dad about this.”
“I know, I just—I don’t know what to say exactly. I mean, I don’t even know what’s happening, so how do you expect me to explain it to him?”
Kavana was not sure how to answer. Something was going on with her sister, but she was unsure what it could be. Completely naïve to the powers beyond her own, Kavana could not fathom an explanation to these fiery events. The only thing she could comprehend about the whole situation was that her younger sister’s powers were obviously developing beyond the normal Guardian powers she, herself, possessed. The envy built inside Kavana. Karramis was, again, producing a new kind of advanced power. Not only could she control the portals outside of the regular limits, but now she had fire power as well. But the bitterness and resentment in Kavana did not last long. The powers within Karramis were not well-received. In fact, Kavana remembered the first time her sister found out her powers were different. Since then, Karramis wanted nothing to do with her newfound abilities.
Kavana started toward the bedroom door. “Listen, I was told to come get you because Fayemeara is looking for you.” She walked past the door frame and turned. “I know you don’t want to tell him, but maybe—I don’t know—maybe he can help explain this all to you. Maybe he knows what’s going on. I just know you need to tell someone, other than me, before it gets out of control.” She started to walk away but stopped. “If nothing else, talk to Fayemeara about it. Maybe she knows something or . . . at least, maybe she could give you some advice on how to tell him.”
Her sister was right. This was only going to get worse if she did not learn how to control it. This ability was only going to grow and become more powerful. With all her other magic, Karramis had to learn it, embrace it, train, and master the ability so it would become like second nature to her, a reflex. Being born into a family who knew their future powers and duties was a blessing because there were no surprises. But her powers grew into something more. Her family were Guardians. This was something they all knew how to be. Every generation before her knew what powers they would be given. Growing up into a prominent magical family was never the problem, being able to do things beyond the normal limits was. Being a Guardian was one thing, but having a certain set of powers, and lacking others given to all other Guardians, was never an easy thing for her to swallow. Feeling like an outcast most of her life, Karramis always thought maybe she was not supposed to be a Guardian. This forced birthright was only pushed upon her because she had the blood of her father running through her veins. What if she were not meant to be a Guardian? Maybe she was supposed to be more like her mother. But Karramis never knew her mother. She died during childbirth. Other than a few stories and minor details mentioned here and there when she was a child, her father never talked about her mother. She never knew much about her, not even the fact her mother was a witch.
To be fair to her father though, Karramis never asked much about her. She stopped asking questions, and wanting to hear the same old stories, after she received her magic a few months after her tenth birthday. Guardians were born with their magic, but the powers did not show up until the child was old enough to handle them. Most would get their powers shortly after entering their early adolescent years. However, it was different for some.
Her father, Zarrius, did not receive his powers until he was eighteen years old. He was lazy and immature, never really wanting or embracing his magical responsibilities. Zarrius despised being forced into a leadership position and gaining control over the livelihood of the realm’s residents. Acting out was his way of showing his parents his strong objection to the idea.
His mischievous and rebellious actions grew more frequent and reckless the older he got. His behavior grew tiresome, and, with the lack of powers, his parents became worried and anxious. For the safety of the realm and the inhabitants, and with the hope of bringing his Guardian magic to him, his parents banished him to the non-magical realm. Zarrius was forced out of Kiluemar and sent to live at a magical boarding school run by muses. The school was a large castle estate on an eight-hundred-acre property in southwest Canada—complete with forests, meadows, a large lake, and tons of open space to practice magic freely. It was purchased specifically to help educate magical children from the non-magical realm and to aid them in honing their abilities while still providing a sense of normalcy. Zarrius’s parents hoped this would inspire him to behave and work toward accepting and embracing his Guardian magic and duties.
Zarrius was about to turn eighteen when he met a local girl walking along the eastern banks of the lake along the property. She was a sweet seventeen-year-old girl named Vivian Howton from an upper-class family in the next town over. Her black hair and rich brown eyes made her light skin seem even fairer. He was intrigued by the simple beauty and sophistication flowing from this young lady. She was a breath of fresh air for Zarrius, something new and exciting.
His instantaneous attraction was shared by Vivian, who found his charm and awkward demeanor stimulating and comical. He made her laugh—something she did not do often. Vivian was isolated and harshly disciplined, every aspect of her life dictated. Control and structure were all she knew. From the clothes she wore to the friends she could have, and even the college degree she had to obtain, Vivian was never given a choice with her own life. So, meeting Zarrius was a welcome surprise. This new encounter was unplanned, unorganized, and not controlled by someone else. She was free, even happy. This charismatic and kind boy was what she needed in her life.
Vivian and Zarrius’s affection grew over the months, and they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. They completed each other and repaired the distress centered around their disciplined lives. Vivian helped Zarrius mature and grow out of his juvenile mindset. Her classy and responsible personality pushed him into accepting himself and welcoming everything life had to give him. Zarrius assisted Vivian with letting go of things, standing up for herself, and learning how to not take life so seriously.
With his new traits freshly displayed, Zarrius’s powers finally arrived after he returned home for a short visit. He immediately told Vivian and, thankfully, she was not shocked by the news. The idea of magic was fascinating to her, and she always knew there was something special about the school. She accepted his lifestyle and future obligations without hesitation. However, Zarrius did not want to return to the realm. He enjoyed not having to worry about magic and the duties of being a Guardian. He liked not having responsibilities outside of Vivian and his new life.
After rejecting his father’s plea to return home, shortly after his twentieth birthday, Zarrius and Vivian married in a secret ceremony and welcomed a son a few months later. Pavian Liam Ward was born on a rainy, fall day in October. His brown eyes matched his mother’s, while his crooked smile and narrow nose resembled his father. Pavian’s calm and quiet behavior made him an easy baby.
To everyone’s surprise, when Pavian was only five months old, Vivian found out she was pregnant again. This time, it was a little girl. Kavana Aurora Ward was born on an unnaturally warm December evening, more than three weeks past her expected due date. She resembled her mother with her rich black curls and button nose, but her eyes
were light blue, similar to her father’s. Even though she was only a baby, her spunky personality and lighthearted manner brought fun and continuous laughter into the family.
Zarrius knew his children would, one day, develop Guardian powers, but he chose not to worry about the possibilities of going back to Kiluemar until the time came. He did not want to return to the realm, and he hoped he would never have to. But his outlook soon changed.
When Kavana was a little over a year old, he experienced a loss so heartbreaking it sent him into a downward spiral. Vivian was killed in an accident by a drunk driver. The devastating passing of his beloved wife sent Zarrius into an overprotective and anxious state of mind. He was terrified of losing his children to the day-to-day random occurrences of the non-magical world. Packing up his children, he left for Kiluemar and never looked back.
Both Pavian and Kavana, now in Kiluemar, received their powers early. Pavian was only five when his Guardian abilities arrived. His maturity was evident to everyone who met him. Kavana’s timid personality and scattered mindset delayed hers a few years. She was nearly eight when she finally received her powers. Zarrius knew the magic within the realm was recruiting his children early on because there were no Guardians left except him. By the time he returned to Kiluemar, both his parents had passed, and he did not have any siblings. The Guardian bloodline was dwindling, and his children would have to take over sooner rather than later.
Karramis knew more about her sibling’s childhood and their mother than her own. It was frustrating and maddening. She wanted to know the truth about everything. Why was her mother such a secret? What was her father so afraid of? She was going to find out the truth today. She was not going to back down or let it go. Sooner or later, she would have to face her father, so why not just get it over with? But first, she would find Fayemeara. Karramis was determined to make her listen and tell her everything she knew.
She got dressed and headed out the door. Walking under the stone archway, Karramis headed toward the garden just outside of town. In the distance, rows and rows of various bushes, plants, and shrubbery stretched out over acres of land. Meandering among the vegetation was a short, plump woman wearing a long, flowing dress.
Fayemeara was sprightly and middle-aged, humming loudly as she strode barefoot through the garden with her dark auburn and gray hair pulled back into a loose French braid. Holding a basket filled with vegetables of all shapes and sizes, she roamed along the walkways in between the rows of plants.
Examining a tomato, she paused her soothing lullaby. “Not quite.” She resumed the gentle hum, reaching for another tomato.
Karramis stood at the far corner of the garden as Fayemeara continued down the line, inspecting each tomato individually. Gardening was Fayemeara’s talent. She had an impeccable gift when it came to fruits, vegetables, herbs, and flowers. In fact, stating her gift was merely a “gift” was an understatement. It was magical. She was known as the “Garden Enchantress” around here. Her magical abilities gave her an advantage though. Her powers as a nymph gave her dominion over all plants. She was the last Garden Nymph in Kiluemar. Not all nymphs were the same. Some, like Fayemeara, only had the ability to grow small vegetation and were once called Flora Nymphs. Things like trees, rivers, streams, lakes, and other larger foliage and earthly terrain were left for the Earth Nymphs to grow, control, and protect.
In addition to being the last Garden Nymph, Fayemeara was also Zarrius’s oldest and dearest friend. The two of them had been friends since both were in their early teens. Fayemeara came to Kiluemar after both her brothers were killed. She learned about the magical realm from a Telematra, who had tracked her down after she used her powers to grow herself something to eat. The young man helped get Fayemeara to an open portal and brought her here for her safety. Zarrius just happened to be sitting next to the portal when she came through. He noticed the shy and bashful dark-eyed girl was scared and nervous. He approached her with a caring smile and kind words and they quickly became friends. After suffering the loss of her brothers, and Zarrius lacking siblings or friends, they grew inseparable.
Still glancing down at the tomatoes, Fayemeara called, “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”
Karramis smiled. She took off her shoes and stepped onto the wet soil. The ground was squishy and warm. She headed over to Fayemeara, reaching out a hand and brushing it across the plants. The smell of rosemary, lavender, and lemongrass drifted through the air. Stepping farther into the garden, she pressed her bare feet harder into the ground, feeling every pebble, soggy morsel of mud, and the occasional twig. She loved and respected nature.
Fayemeara had mentioned many times how shoes disrespected the plants within a garden—blocking the natural connection between a person and nature. All living organisms craved an innate link between one another. Everything in nature could sense things like good and evil, life and death, happiness and sorrow, pain and pleasure. Nature was alive, and everyone could call upon it when needed.
Finally reaching Fayemeara, Karramis responded from behind her hand as she sniffed the remnants of the plants along her fingers. “Sorry, I was just—"
“Lost in thought,” Fayemeara interrupted in a deep Hispanic accent as she picked another tomato from the vine. “I know, I know. It’s a common occurrence with you these days. What was it today, mija? What has you so lost within the depths of your mind?”
Karramis knelt next to the row of plants across from the tomatoes and began carefully rummaging through the leaves. “Nothing important.”
“You know, mija, you’re a terrible liar.”
“No, I’m a fabulous liar. You’re just too intuitive sometimes.”
“It’s a gift.”
They both laughed.
Karramis was comfortable around Fayemeara––never feeling judged or different. Free to express herself and be herself. They were not related by blood, but Karramis considered her an aunt. It was nice having a motherly figure in her life. The fear of words leaving the inner circle was never the case for Karramis. She trusted Fayemeara wholeheartedly.
She decided to take Kavana’s advice and tell someone else about what was going on with her. Afraid to jump right into the specifics of her new powers, Karramis thought, maybe, talking about her mother might be an easier topic to bring up. Fayemeara was quiet most of the time and left conversations up to those around her, so, of course, they never discussed anything about Karramis’s mother. Although, Fayemeara knew everything there was to know. Over the years, she became great friends with Karramis’s mother, Keya.
Karramis pushed herself off her knees and placed a few peppers in the basket on the ground.
“Hey, can I talk to you about something? And you promise to be honest with me?’
“Of course,” Fayemeara replied, narrowing her eyes. “You can talk to me about anything, and I’ve always been honest with you.”
Karramis picked up the wicker basket and slid the handle onto her forearm. Sweeping her other arm under Fayemeara’s, they both made their way out of the garden.
“I know. I just needed some reassurance.” Karramis paused before adding, “I need to know the truth about some things.”
“The truth about what, mija?”
“My mother.”
Fayemeara pulled them both to a stop and her honey-colored cheeks grew pale as she cracked a smile. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me about her.” She took a step forward with Karramis in tow. “It took you long enough. What would you like to know?”
“Everything.”
“Well, your mother was born on—”
“Okay, maybe not everything,” Karramis admitted with a chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to know all of that too, especially since I don’t know much, but . . . It’s just—Well, we can get to all those specifics later. I want to know about her magic . . . and what happened to her.”
Those were the specifics Fayemeara did not want to talk about.
She had made a promise. A promise forced upon her by Zarrius when Karramis was only a baby. He made her agree to never divulge anything regarding Keya if Karramis ever came to her asking questions. However, the promise made was meant to protect the innocence of a little girl. Shield her from pain and fear. The years had long passed since this agreement was made and it was time for Karramis to know exactly what happened to her mother and why the powers within her were not like the others. The stories surrounding her mother’s death, her birth, and the powers within her were only a theory. Speculation.
Nonetheless, she deserved to know the truth and learn about the possibilities of what life might have in store for her soon. The time had come for Zarrius to tell his daughter all she wanted and needed to know. However, Fayemeara was fully aware he was not ready to do this just yet. So, she decided, here and now, she would make the executive decision and break the promise. She was going to open the floodgates and finally tell Karramis what she needed to know, thus making Zarrius, ultimately, have to come clean with his part in all of this. Fayemeara knew Zarrius would be furious with her, but she could not keep his secrets any longer.
Chapter 9
From the Flames
Keya Llewellyn was born in Kiluemar and lived there her whole life. Her family came here generations ago after magic became a topic of fear and prejudice throughout the world. Many people demanded the genocide of all magical creatures, and those who were opposed to this were condemned. But fear was not the only underlying factor bringing her family, along with many others, to the realm. Those who did not fear magic desired it, wanting it for their own personal interests. Whether it was for power or fortune, many magical creatures were forced into servitude and lived out their lives being threatened and tortured at the expense of another’s greed.
Keya was born into a powerful family of witches. Their magical lineage started over nine centuries ago when the very first Llewellyn discovered his abilities as a young adult. He was a Fire Witch. The young man had the power to control fire and drew his ability from the flames, siphoning the natural magic from the element. His power was not to create it but rather manipulate it.
Return to Kiluemar Page 8