“Why didn’t he tell me all of this? Why in the hell was this so important he felt he had to keep it from me?”
Fayemeara sighed. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, of course.”
“He didn’t want you to have any magic. So, he tried to unlink it, remove it from you completely.”
Karramis jumped to her feet. “What?”
Fayemeara leapt up and took hold of Karramis’s hands, trying to remedy her anger. “Listen mija, please calm down.”
Karramis relaxed as Fayemeara pulled her in and wrapped her arms around her, but she did not return the hug.
Pulling herself out of the embrace, Fayemeara added, “He didn’t know what else to do. He was afraid of losing you too.”
“Why though? Why just me? He lost Vivian too. Why didn’t he treat Pavian and—”
“He did though. He hired people to guard and protect all three of you and to monitor if, and when, all your magic surfaced. Your father wanted to make sure all three of you were watched at all times.”
“No, he didn’t,” Karramis said harshly. “I was the only one who had constant protection and monitoring. Pavian and Kavana were able to roam about as they pleased.”
“Mija, think about it. The three of you were always together when you were little. Even after Pavian got his powers when you were only two, you three were always together––being guarded. It’s just when you were ten, all your magic surfaced at once. Your powers scared him. You were different. You had powers your father wasn’t familiar with. They were advanced, even for a ten-year-old. No Guardian had ever been able to open a portal at will . . . or control things with their mind as strongly as you could. Not to mention, you had powers outside of the realm. You also lacked abilities as well. Magic you should have as a Guardian. You couldn’t teleport between the portals, you have no coordination when training, you can’t heal from minor wounds—"
“Yeah, I know. I know I’m different.” She stomped her foot and hit her upper leg with her fist. “Dammit! I didn’t ask for this! I just want to be normal . . . or—I mean—I don’t know . . . Whatever the hell normal is around here.”
Karramis was shaky and agitated. She paced, unable to formulate a clear thought through the roller-coaster of emotions flowing in her mind and body. She was hot, her palms were sweaty, and her face was flushed.
Her muscles were tight, and her voice was unsteady. “What does this have to do with keeping it a secret from me? Why does any of this matter?”
“The prophecy,” Fayemeara answered with a somber expression across her face.
Raising an eyebrow, Karramis questioned, “The prophecy? What prophecy—You mean the one I learned about in school when I was younger?”
“Yes.”
“You mean the overly vague one where evil is going to try and take over the realm and magic is going to create some new power . . . blah, blah, blah—that one?”
“Yes. Your father thinks—”
“Seriously?” Karramis snapped. “All this crap—twenty years of this bullshit—really? All of this is because of some stupid prophecy?”
Karramis spun around and stormed off, a thin line of fire trailing behind her and rising from the ground along her path. The flames followed directly behind her, disappearing as she faded into the shadows of the night.
Fayemeara widened her eyes and took a step forward, stopping as the flames in front of her dwindled. “Uh oh.”
***
The door crashed into the wall and the sound echoed throughout the house. Karramis found Kavana sitting on the edge of a chair by the fire with an open book thrown on the floor.
“You scared me!” Kavana yelped, facing the noise and her sister.
Standing in the doorframe with one hand pulled into a fist and the other on her hip, Karramis asked harshly, “Where’s Father?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Where is he?” Karramis asked again in a louder tone.
“I—I think he’s still out training with Tenarick and Pavian. “Why? What happened?”
Karramis turned and headed back out the door.
“Karramis! What happ—”
The calm fire burst and roared viciously in the fireplace as the front door slammed shut.
Karramis marched through town, conjuring up more random fires. The trail behind her disappeared, but the old iron lanterns lining the streets lit as she walked past, erupting into flames before settling into a mild glow. The pits outside some of the homes exploded and fire stretched up toward the night sky as she headed outside of town.
Her father was among a small crowd, just an earshot away from the garden she strolled through earlier in the day. Her stride quickened, panting with each step.
“Father!”
Zarrius—along with Pavian, Tenarick, and Viktor—circled around and watched as she stormed forward, stomping as her wide stride hurried closer. Her hands were clenched into fists and her eyebrows were pulled together.
Marching up to Zarrius and entering his personal space, she snapped, “A prophecy? All of this was because of some stupid prophecy?”
Her father extended his arms, gently pushing her back with his flattened palms. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and along his forehead were prominent.
He shuffled backwards and tilted his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Fayemeara told me everything!” Zarrius flinched. Her shrill voice turned condescending. “Yeah, that’s right, Dad. I know all about my mother and her powers and why I might be different from the rest of you.” Her tone softened. “How could you? How could you keep this from me? You didn’t think I deserved to know the truth?”
Zarrius stammered calmly, “I—I didn’t know how—I was just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me? And you think removing my powers and keeping everything about my mother . . . my birth . . . my magic was the best thing for me? For my protection? Really? Not to mention your theory—that I’m part of some ancient, elusive prophecy no one even knows—”
“I do.”
“What?” Karramis asked, shuddering as she took a breath.
“I know exactly what, and who, the prophecy is referring to.” He paused. “It’s about you. I’m positive of it.”
“How? How is it—I can’t . . .” She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a step closer to her father. “Why? W-why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I did. And that’s why you were heavily watched throughout the years. Pavian has helped keep—”
“Pavian?” She turned and glared at her brother. “You knew about this?”
Pavian slowly nodded. “Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed and she stumbled back. Karramis could not believe it. Not only had her own father known what was going on with her powers and planned out things about her life without consulting her, but so had her brother, someone she confided in, trusted. He, along with Kavana, were the only ones in her family who knew the hardships she faced on a day-to-day basis trying to understand and control her powers and deal with her father’s overly protective nature. They were the ones who sat up at night with her as she cried herself to sleep worrying about why she was so different. They were the ones who understood the heartache she endured not knowing the truth about her mother and the powers she possessed.
Karramis was betrayed and hurt. Everything about her life was a lie. Everything she knew and comprehended had been shattered. Why? Why did this whole thing need to be kept from her? She was an adult, and from what she gathered about herself, a very mature and composed one—although both traits were not present in this moment. Without saying another word, Karramis stormed off. She had nothing else to say to them. Both Zarrius and Pavian called for her but chose not to follow.
Not wanting to go home, she wandered along the outskirts of town. With the night sky looming overhead, she stopped and lay in the grass. She peered up at the stars, pondering the events of the d
ay. How could they? How could they plot out every aspect of her life because of a stupid prophecy? How did they know it was about her? What if the whole time it was about someone else and this was all for nothing?
Karramis always hated parts of her magic. It was more of a curse than a blessing, especially since her powers were not like the rest of her family’s magic. She spent her whole life afraid to use her powers, terrified of it and resenting it. Her magic was different. She was different. Learning how to tap into her powers was not an easy task to accomplish, especially since she never wanted to practice out of fear or judgement. However, she did enjoy one power—a magical ability unique only to her. The only power she could control without hesitation was the first active power she received––conjuring a portal. No matter when or where, she could open her own personal doorway and go anywhere on the island.
Karramis sat up. “I wonder.”
She hurried to her feet and placed them shoulder width apart. Stretching out her arms, Karramis concentrated. A portal opened right in front of her, floating a few inches from the ground. She lowered her arms to her sides and stood staring at it, deciding whether to walk into it or not. Was she able to travel anywhere, even outside of the magical realm? Could she truly voyage out to any place she wanted? The desire to find out burned inside of her. What could possibly happen? If she got into trouble, she would just immediately come back through. She did not care to think about the consequences at the time, so she moved forward. Walking through the portal, Karramis vanished as it closed behind her.
Her life changed the moment she walked through the portal. The second Karramis decided to rebel against her father, destiny placed her on an exciting and dangerous path. A path that would be both a blessing and a curse.
Chapter 10
A Rebellious Rendezvous
Karramis landed on the other side of the portal, stepping into a thicket of plane and mulberry trees. Traveling with no destination in mind seemed like a good idea at first, but she learned right away she was lucky. The area was deserted.
The sky turned a deep shade of blue as the sun started to rise beyond the trees. Traipsing through the underbrush and passing some bushes, she came to an urban trail. The path stretched out in both directions on the other side of a short metal fence next to where she stood. One way led to a bridge spanning a narrow body of water while the sound of a vehicle came from the opposite direction. Trying to figure out where she was, she climbed over the knee-high fence and headed down the path, following the sounds of another vehicle moving up ahead.
Two black iron gates with three pillars stood tall and closed at the end of the walkway. She tugged on the doors, but they were locked. Another vehicle passed by and then another. The street was getting busier. The area was clearly off limits, so she turned around and headed back down the path to the bridge she saw earlier.
Soft orange hues rested against the light blue sky, lighting up the grassy fields on either side of the trail which were lined with tall trees. The smell of rain and freshly cut grass swirled through the springtime air. Branches danced with the warm breeze, blowing leaves across the path. Flocks of birds flew overhead, while others sang their soothing morning songs. The sounds of the busy street behind her faded within the gentle whispers of Mother Nature.
Making her way over to the bridge, she brushed her fingers across the beautiful purple and blue flowers blooming among the thick bushes she exited earlier. Splashes traveled down the path, followed by the flapping of wings. She stopped in the middle of the bridge, leaning on the railing and taking in the sights of the various fowl nearby. A large grouping of ducks and a single pelican glided along the calm water as wrens and robins circled around against the illuminating sky. Blackbirds pecked along the waterfront and a woodpecker pounded against a tree a few feet from the water.
Nature’s calm melodies disappeared behind the commotion of tires rushing along city streets, horns honking, and voices echoing down the path. The sun rose above the trees as more people trekked throughout the park and dogs barked at the birds flying by.
Karramis pushed herself from the railing and headed back to the gates.
The gates were open. Completely ignoring the two large visitor boards by the gates—something she missed last time as well—Karramis left the park and stood by the road. She still did not know where she was. The traffic grew dense along the main street and most of the vehicles seemed to be heading one way more than the other. She followed the countless groups of people heading in the same direction. Up ahead was an enormous building and a tall monument with what appeared to be a golden angel placed at the top.
Karramis stopped at the end of the road and stood next to a large stone pillar. The golden statue atop the tall monument blended effortlessly against the cloudless blue sky while a massive mansion lay behind it. The area was congested with hundreds of people. A flagpole rose high above the building, but she was unable to determine the details on the flag as it rested flatly against the pole. She took in the rest of her surroundings, trying to find something to help her determine her location. Gorgeous flower beds lined the area with bright red and purple blossoms. Many strange thin, white metal sculptures were spaced perfectly along the borders of the area and reminded Karramis of lampposts, but the square uppermost section lacked any kind of light source. The angelic monument sat directly in the center of the square and the vehicles drove in a circle around it.
Finding no discernable clues as to where she ended up, Karramis walked up to an older couple who were standing on the corner and quietly asked, “Excuse me?”
Looking up from their map, they both smiled at her.
“Sorry to bother you, but what’s this place?”
Confused by the question, the couple frowned.
The stocky old man answered with a thick Italian accent, “Well, dear, this is Buckingham Palace.”
The thin, white-haired old lady added, “Are you lost, child?”
Karramis forced out a chuckle, tossing them a side grin. “Oh no! It’s just, uhm . . . I’m looking for . . .” She paused, trying to remember another popular tourist attraction in London. “Big Ben!”
The old man raised his hand and pointed. “That’s over there.”
Karramis let out a forced, high-pitch laugh. “Right. Okay. Well, thank you.”
She hurried back in the direction of the street leading away from the square, shaking her head in embarrassment.
“Dear?” the old lady called. Karramis turned. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Uhm, it’s okay. I—I’m just going to go find . . . my friend first.” She waved. “Thank you!”
London. Why here? She never thought about any specific location while traveling through the portal, so why did she end up here? Karramis figured she would land somewhere tropical and warm, with hot sand and cool water. Or, if nothing else, someplace ancient and exotic, like Cairo or Athens. But her raging and unfocused consciousness brought her here. A place she had no ties to or any real knowledge of.
Karramis no longer wanted to question it and went about her day. The location was not her first choice, but she embraced it. London, a city of welcomed mysteries and unlimited escapades. What amazing discoveries would she find? With no real plan in place, she wandered aimlessly around central London. Turning precariously down random streets, she smiled as the people walked past her. The city was busy this time of day with many locals and tourists bustling along the streets.
After strolling for some time, she came to an open plaza. Two large fountains and a variety of statues were placed throughout the public square. The most noticeable landmark was a tall column with a statue of a man posing at the top. Karramis was charmed by the city. The hustle was chaotic but somehow organized. With hundreds of people around, the steady flow was quieter than she would have expected. Walking past an oversized statue of a lion, she smiled and laughed at a group of people attempting to climb the giant piece of metal while another person, stan
ding a few feet away, held a camera and yelled in a foreign language at them. Karramis listened closely but did not stop.
Her uninterrupted stride led to a busy street. Taking in the sights, she noted the steady dimming of the sky. The day had flown by and she knew she would have to head back soon. However, Karramis forgot which direction she originally came from—she was lost. She stayed on her current path, searching for a new, isolated location. Any tall rooftop, empty building, or large park would work for her task. But the dense crowds made it impossible for her to find the perfect place, so she turned around and headed back toward the square. Finding a place to relax for the time being, Karramis sat under the trees, next to one of the fountains, and watched the people as they went on with their day.
The sun set behind her and the square grew quieter as the crowds meandered away. Hoping to find a place to open a portal, Karramis left in the opposite direction of the larger groups who were leaving the plaza. She followed behind three middle-aged men who wore clean, pressed suits and black loafers. Her nose wrinkled as heavy whiffs of smoke and musk flowed across her path. Slowing down to avoid the smell, she moved her eyes, following the men as they entered a bar on the corner. Clanking glass, booming laughter, and indistinct chatter roared from the open doors. She took a breath of fresh air, continuing forward, but then she halted.
She could feel it, sense it. Magic was nearby. It had to be close because Karramis was never able to sense magic without being a few feet from it. Was it one of the men? No, it could not be one of them—she did not feel it when walking behind them. It had to be someone in the bar. Someone in there must have some kind of magical powers. Curiosity built inside her, so she entered the bar, walked over to a stool in the far corner of the room, and sat down.
The bar was crowded. Every table and booth were filled with people laughing, talking, and enjoying their meal or drink. Karramis sat in the only stool placed on this side of the bar counter. Scanning the room, she wondered who she was sensing. The magic was coming from here but trying to narrow it down was difficult. She observed everyone, their appearances, their mannerisms, and whether they were alone or with anyone else. She thought living her whole life with magical creatures would make it easier to find them outside of Kiluemar, but this was not the case. Trying to find any hint of magical characteristic within each person was harder than she thought it would be.
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