Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence

by Anna Patrick Paige

  “I’ll never rule a country. What can I possibly bring to the Divine circle? I feel stranded. Extra. Without purpose. The Spare. I’ll never be as important as you. I want to wake up and not see the Mandala staring back at me in the mirror. I want to know what it feels like to be ignored and forgotten.” The horrifying truth of my dreaming lingered over my uncertain future. “Luken, if one day I turn out to be . . . different . . . will you still care for me?” I murmured.

  “You’re my sister. Even when I am King, nothing will ever change that. Our bond as siblings surpasses all others. I swear, when I am King, you will have everything you’ve ever wanted. I will always be there for you, no matter who or what you decide to become.” He touched the top of my head and ruffled my hair. I felt a callous. “Are you all right? You’ve been acting strange lately.”

  “Bromly wants to know if you are hungry.”

  “What?” My eyes shot open. Darric leaned over me in the same manner Luken had that day in the gardens, his face darkened by the setting sun. The smell of wisteria blooms coming off his skin had overpowered the reverie about my brother. “I’m not hungry,” I said, trying to disentangle my memories from reality.

  “You can’t stay out here much longer. The sun is going down. I don’t want you vulnerable.” He twirled a small white flower between his fingertips, and a second fell from behind my ear.

  “The Hovel is thirty feet away from me,” I argued, annoyed by his demands.

  “I don’t care if it’s thirty or three,” he sternly replied, dropping the bloom so it landed on my forehead.

  I glared at him bitterly. “Do grounds for punishment count at the Hovel or only when we are training in the forest?”

  He raised an amused eyebrow. “If that’s your tactic, don’t fault me for being passive aggressive.”

  I flicked the flower off my face. “If you weren’t such a brazen ass, I might believe you were being protective.”

  “Chaperoning your kind was never on my immediate agenda until recently.”

  I sat up. “Amazing that you can be quite charming when you want to be.”

  “Brazen ass and all.” He chuckled.

  The glow from the Riving mixed into the first traces of sunrise, giving the eastern sky an unusual complexion. An hour before daybreak, Darric and I headed back to the wisteria forest.

  “Why are we taking Flint’s bow?” I asked as we rounded the hidden crag. When Darric outlined the categories in which he would be instructing me, archery had not been among them. Yet, clasped in his hand was Flint’s bow, with the quiver dangling from his wrist.

  “Flint pissed me off yesterday,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  He waited for an explanation, but I remained silent. The thought of Flint’s lips coming towards me in a clumsy gesture of affection was mortifying. I had done nothing to merit such appetency from him. Assuming he no longer believed I was a prostitute, why would he think I would want him to kiss me? How could he have concocted such an appalling idea?

  I glanced at Darric, who seemed to be thinking of something rather pleasant, as his mouth was slightly upturned.

  We continued through the floral woods until the sound of rushing water filled the forest. A towering cliff face appeared in front of us, and a narrow waterfall tumbled from a protruding ledge through the blooming canopy, crashing into a small crystalline pond.

  “Wow.” I gaped at the spectacular location.

  Darric let the bow and quiver fall to the ground and removed his cloak. “Ready to get wet?” He gave a bawdy, self-satisfied smirk.

  I narrowed my eyes, preparing a cutting remark, but quickly remembered we were officially in a training session; his clear rules about disrespect would demand disciplinary action. I snapped my jaw shut, and my cheeks flushed. He leaned against a nearby tree, widening the smug grin decorating his handsome face.

  I turned my back to him and sat in the petal-covered grass to unlace my boots, secretly keeping Luken’s dagger in place, then braided my hair and knotted it high atop my head. “I’ve never done this in front of anyone,” I said, touching the chilly water with my toes. The cat gave a reassuring meow from a high perch within the trees.

  “Technically, you have. I bore witness to your entire lake fiasco.” He shrugged. “There is nothing to be apprehensive about.”

  “Nothing to be apprehensive about?” I scoffed, stepping onto the pond. “You’re an ex-assassin of the Onyx Guard. Why should I be apprehensive about that?”

  “Ex being the pivotal word in that statement.”

  Conceding, I walked across the pond, using my arms to maintain stability as the hem of my dress took on water. When I reached the center, I turned to face him. His head tilted inquisitively to the side, and his intense gaze had become inscrutable.

  “You could say something,” I squeaked.

  He pushed off the tree trunk to approach the bank. “Can you do anything else aside from stand on it? When you ran onto the lake, something happened when your hands broke the surface.”

  I nodded. “Water tends to explode when I become overzealous, the way it would if you threw a rock into it.”

  “You need to discover your limitations and push through them. The Fae we kidnapped in Varanus attacked the regiment with well water.”

  “I don’t know how to make it happen,” I admitted. “It occurs when I’m upset or scared.”

  Darric held up a finger. Snatching Flint’s bow, he hastily nocked an arrow, aimed at my chest, and released. The stone head rotated as it sped in my direction. I shrieked and covered my head, ducking over the pond.

  The cat’s howl of panic vanished behind the sound of crashing water. An explosion pulsed under my feet, and the vibrating pond knocked me off balance. I tore my hands free to catch myself as a circular wall of water surrounded me, creating a protective cocoon that floated in the air. The morning sunlight caught the motionless wave, exposing suspended blue sparkles that scattered across my skin and the surface of the water. Encased in the wall, the halted arrow slowly continued to rotate, unable to reach its target.

  Stunned, Darric dropped Flint’s bow.

  I carefully stood and examined my creation. The water parted as I reached into the wall for the spinning arrow. The instant the weapon was in my hand, the defenses fell, crashing into the pond all at once and sending waves lapping up my legs. The blue sparkles dusting the floral trees steadily dimmed until they disappeared.

  “You could have killed me,” I murmured, unable to muster an appropriate reaction.

  “Somehow, I find that unlikely,” he mused, awestruck.

  I tossed the arrow onto the bank

  “Aya, the water is reacting to you. When I sent that arrow, you panicked and wanted protection. The water gave it to you. Tell it what you want.”

  I dropped to my knees. Leftover ripples washed over my thighs, sending a chill up my spine. I peered into the churning pond. It wasn’t deep, and tiny confused fish swam among the murky weeds.

  “This is where you need to employ focus and concentration.” He sank onto the balls of his feet to meet my eyes. “The day Flint attempted to teach you to use a bow, I threw two objects at you. Do you know why?”

  I gave him an aggravated glare and shifted uncomfortably. The cold, gelatinous sensation of the water under my legs still bewildered me.

  “Try to answer without being spiteful. I understand I tried to shoot you, but I have validity,” he expressed.

  The urge to berate him became increasingly difficult, but I shoved back the anger and took a breath. “You threw a block of wood and then a knife.” I groaned.

  He grinned at the memory. “When fighting an adversary, concentration and focus are not about using all your energy to aim at one target. They are about opening your mind to everything around you.” He set his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “If I am concentrating on only one opponent or focusing all my energy on a single target, I’m going to miss the attacker coming from behind. Or h
it an obstacle I didn’t see. You were determined to make the perfect shot and ignored the fact that I stood behind you, well-armed, and could kill you at any moment. I broke your concentration to force you to pay more attention to your surroundings. You must see everything at once. Death is always going to come from the place you were not looking. Under no circumstances should a dragon sculpture have caused you to lower your bow. Note the activity, take the available shot, then rearm to face the next opponent.”

  “You’re saying I should have hit the tree and then attacked you?” I confirmed skeptically.

  He laughed. “That would have been impressive.”

  “And highly satisfying.” I tapped my finger across the water, sending ripples towards the bank.

  “Then work through your irritation and give yourself gratification. What’s stopping you? Have I not given you ample reason to have animosity towards me?” He pulled a hunting knife from his boot.

  I stuck my finger into the water and twirled it. The liquid formed a thin whirling vortex that spiraled to the murky bottom of the pond. Fish darted out of its way and hid among the sunken logs.

  “I can provide more hostility if you need additional motivation.” He brandished the blade.

  Rise. The pillar of swirling water instantly shot skywards, wobbling over the pond’s surface and sending me tumbling back onto my elbows. The spout smashed into the tree canopy and scattered hundreds of blooms and twinkles through the air.

  I righted myself and held up my hands, closed my eyes, and imagined what I wanted. The cyclone moved across the churning surface, tearing through the beautiful flowers in its wake. I pushed it to the bank where Darric waited, motionless, blade ready. When the whirling vortex reached him, I abruptly lowered my arms. The water stopped spinning and fell, sending a crashing wave to the shore and soaking him in the process.

  Foamy crests lapped over the grass, and trapped water rained from the branches. Darric’s wet hair stuck to his forehead. His white shirt clung to his skin, contouring over his svelte muscular frame and allowing me to glimpse the history of scars covering his chest.

  My face burned at the alluring sight, and I averted my eyes. Stunningly handsome. Be quiet, Ayleth.

  He chuckled and pinched the front of his shirt, pulling the fabric away from his skin as he ran his other hand through his wet hair. “Now, that’s more like it.”

  As the morning hours passed, Darric and I discovered the simple premise behind my water control. I could do anything I desired by imagining what I wanted; the water always complied. The act generated a soothing feeling mixed with a chilling freshness that skittered through my veins.

  I raised thousands of droplets skywards so they rained down upon us. I cupped water into my hands to create dewlike globes, which I gratifyingly threw at him. Focus and concentration were crucial for complex actions, such as summoning multiple vortexes or transforming floating globes into shapes. The larger the quantity of water I controlled, the heavier the burden on my body and mind. We found my limit when he suggested I lift the entire pond into the air. Yet, shoving waves or strong jets onto the bank was relatively effortless. I laughed each time I sent another bombardment in his direction. He endured the drenched morning with enthusiasm and seemed fascinated by my preternatural ability.

  The strangest aspect was the miraculous blue sparkles left behind after each feat of water control. They stuck to my hands and decorated every wet surface. “What is this stuff?” I finally asked.

  He brushed the glittering specks off his arms. “The Senate calls it dust. It’s a trace left behind from Fae power.”

  I fell onto the middle of the pond, thoroughly saturated, with wrinkled toes and a muddled brain. My muscles turned to jelly as I crawled to the bank. “I’m exhausted,” I said, transitioning back onto dry land.

  Darric lay in the grass, and I plopped onto the ground beside him. He moved a long strand of dripping hair away from my face, and an electrified pang tightened my chest. “Phenomenal.”

  I hid a shy smile. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

  “No, I’ve never seen anything like you.” He gave a small laugh. “At least not while I was conscious.”

  I pulled my hair free of its knot, and the heavy tresses toppled down my back. “What about the kid you took in Varanus?”

  “There is a substantial difference between a scared ten-year-old boy and a beautiful woman.” He ran his fingers through my loose curls. “Especially when she’s soaking wet.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked softly, knowing any answer would frighten me.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” he grumbled, tucking his hand behind his head.

  Confounded by his answer, I rested my head on the underside of his rigid arm. There was nothing yielding about him, and his bicep somehow managed to further stiffen. He lay beside me, immobile, my shoulder pressing into his ribs as we watched the tree canopy move with the breeze. Traces of cloudless blue sky were visible through the foliage, and the flickering sunlight filtered through the branches.

  My weary mind settled. The tension in his arm lessened.

  I craned my head back to look at him, and he swallowed hard. “Why doesn’t it matter?”

  “I’ve already broken enough rules by allowing you to stay at the Hovel and training you to fight,” he said. “I’m trying to refrain from also becoming a traitor.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “A traitor? Like a betrayal?”

  He unexpectedly sat up, and my head fell the short distance to the ground.

  Unrelenting, I sat up next to him. “Does this have to do with Flint wanting to learn to wield a sword?”

  “No.” He set his wrists on his knees. “But I’m never going to teach him weaponry. I’ve thought about helping Bromly in the past, but out of respect for Flint, I’ve abstained.”

  “Why? You are already giving lessons to one. What’s two?” I asked, leaning over his shoulder.

  “I can’t tell you without defaming him. I know he’s been outspoken in his opinions of me, but I can’t do the same to him.”

  The little feline jumped from her tree perch and pranced over to where we sat on the grass.“I could stand a little defamation of Flint.” I tucked my knees under my chin. “He tried to kiss me yesterday.”

  Darric laughed and fell back onto the grass. “And did you enjoy it?” He acted amused, yet one of his fists was clenched.

  “I said tried, not succeeded,” I quipped with a frown.

  “You didn’t want to tell me that, did you?” He stopped his chuckling but did nothing to hide his delight.

  “No, especially since you find it so comical.” His contagious charm made my face redden, and I couldn’t stop my lips from pulling into a smile. “It was a rather mortifying experience.”

  Darric rolled his tongue over his teeth. “And that may be the reason I took his bow.”

  “You stole his bow because he tried to kiss me?”

  “Possibly.” His fingers trickled up the contours of my spine, and I let out a gasp that didn’t go unnoticed. “Or because he has a habit of foul mannerisms, and though my tolerance for his inurbane behavior is high, I am human.”

  Hoping to stop the tingling he was creating, I fell onto my back. He propped himself onto his elbow and hovered over me, cradling my head in his palm so his calloused fingers gently gripped my scalp. My fingers twined into a handful of grass. Wisps of damp blond hair still clung to his forehead, and I shut my eyes against the steel-blue irises drilling a hole in my heart. Feeling him was enough to cause the dizzying circles of fog.

  “Flint has made no secret of thinking you are a prostitute I brought back from Burge.”

  My eyes flashed open. “I know exactly what Flint thinks of me, thank you, Darric,” I said, miffed.

  “Don’t blame him for it. He hasn’t been exposed to many other types of women.”

  “Have you . . .” I ripped up the blades of grass. “. . . brought those types of women to the Hovel before?”r />
  “No.” His face scrunched up. “I would not do something that nonsensical. I’ve never allowed anyone to stay in the valley, until you.”

  The last sweet traces of his breath hit my nose. My stomach did a backflip, slamming my heart into my rib cage. The intoxication he caused petrified me, and worse, he didn’t seem to hate me at all in the moment. He almost seemed to . . .

  My mouth went dry. I clenched my fist and shoved it against Darric’s chest, only to be met with stonelike resistance that left my arms weak. As if sensing my desperation, the cat leaped forwards and pounced on him. He released his grip and jerked away from me.

  The cat placed her paw on his shoulder. She gazed into his eyes and hissed, baring her teeth in a menacing warning.

  “Damn cat.” He drove her off him by pressing his palm into her forehead. She shook herself free and backed away, silver claws exposed and spine arched. Darric ran a hand over his face, mussing his wet hair. “Did you know your cat is a Sage?” he asked in frustration.

  The burgundy feline let out a fitful screech. The fur on her back fluffed, and her brows pointed downwards.

  I shook my head free of the clouds. “A what?”

  “A Sage,” he repeated more slowly. The cat jumped behind the base of a tree bordering the rock face. “A Shepherd. A protector of Athera. They are attracted to the Fae. I wasn’t sure at first if she was indeed a Sage—they are difficult to detect—but it’s becoming more obvious by the day.”

  My brain finally emerged from its haze. “What are you saying? She’s not a cat?”

  “No, not really. No one knows the true appearance of a Sage. They use whatever guise suits them for the purpose at hand. This one has taken on the form of a cat. The Onyx Guard keeps watch for them. Where there is a Sage, there is usually a Fae. And she never leaves your side.”

  “Do all Fae have them?”

  “No, there are not many left. Over the centuries, the Onyx Guard has killed most of them. She is only the third I’ve seen. The Fae seem to have a better chance at evading Sights when a Sage is protecting them. The Senate found that Sages can suppress Fae power to a certain extent, making it harder for the Onyx Guard to find them.”