The Magister circled me, her blue cloak swishing with her confident strides. The golden leaves embroidering the edges shimmered like the morning sun as I stood still, waiting until her analysis was complete.
Once Asenav finished, she held her hands in front. “Yes, quite fascinating indeed.” She turned back to James. “I assume you’ve already passed through Dunsque?” James nodded. “How was Neural?”
“He and Divad joined forces to save their people,” I cut in.
“Ah, she speaks! Very good, very good.” Asenav patted down her thick mane before adjusting her cloak. “So, Divad needed assistance? I’m glad he gave up his pigheadedness enough to save his people. Sometimes the bad does bring good. Did he believe you were the Bellata?”
I thought back to the battle with the siti and all of Divad's snide remarks. “He was reluctant at first, but he came around after Silas and I destroyed the doors.”
Asenav laughed angelically as she pulled a thick, yellow book from the shelf. She turned back to James. “I like your granddaughter very much, Dimitte. Even more so since she saved my people.”
Asenav motioned for Silas and me to sit in the other colorful chairs next to Damien’s. The light still coated the lord’s arm, but a look of contentment bathed his features as he leaned back with his eyes shut.
“Well, Bellata,” Asenav said. “I can’t thank you enough for your assistance.” She put up a hand. “And you need not ask. Before you continue your journey, I will summon my mace and make my iuram with you. I’m sure there are still a few Valdeaens left strong enough to fight for Eman.”
I settled into my chair, thankful I didn’t have to beg for her help.
“It’s been many years since my people turned rabid. This is just one of the villages that was affected. There are many more. We lost so many those first years.” Asenav held the worn leather-bound book in her lap, stroking its binding. “I was able to save the rest of us by splitting up the people, making them believe there were only a few people in each village so they could do little harm. But once I began to see the signs in myself, I couldn’t save any more of them.”
Asenav shut her eyes and took a moment before opening them once more. “I know Ophidian sent the doors and the rabid. What is even more horrible was that I isolated myself from my people, allowing the Beast’s forces to further pull them into darkness.”
“What do you mean?” Silas asked.
“A traveling doctor came to one of my people’s villages, saying the cure for becoming rabid was extracting the heart.” Asenav glowered at the door to her home as if the doctor were right outside.
Another traveling doctor? Just like Dunsque and Trefair. It was too coincidental not to be the work of Schism and Ophidian.
James drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, probably having the same thought as me.
Asenav laid her hand on the text. “I don’t know how many lost their hearts to that ‘doctor,’ but I do know that more of my people became rabid after having their hearts extracted.” She delicately placed a finger to her temple with a sigh. “By the time I found out, it was too late. The effects of being rabid had started to consume me. There was nothing left I could do but wait.” Asenav crossed one slender leg over the other before cradling her book like a child. “What a terrible curse the rabid were. To know so much, then to forget it all in an instant was torture. I know the rabid were sent specifically for me.”
James leaned over to us. “Asenav is Eman's first Magister. She has served him the longest.”
We all gaped at the Magister. No wonder Ophidian wanted to destroy her mind. How much knowledge did Asenav have that could end him?
“Yes,” she confirmed, lifting her chin. “I do know much that could end him.”
I thought back to how she communicated with me upstairs. “Can you read my mind?” Was it her voice I had been hearing in my thoughts all this time?
I tried to cast a veil over my mind, causing Asenav to laugh again.
“In a way. I can sense what you feel. Whether you’re confused, lonely, conflicted, or joyous. Based on that, I make an assumption as to why. I’m usually right.” She gave Silas a wink, causing him to stiffen again.
Glancing down, she opened the book and flipped through the pages. They were filled with an elegant script, but it was too small for me to read. “But, yes. I do know much about Eman, or the Mender, and his opponent. Eman and I have known each other for many years. I still remember when I was just a young Magister, trying to learn.”
Tilting the book to face her, Asenav fluffed her curls before squinting at the text. “If you are to continue this journey, you need to know who and what you’re up against.”
My chest caved as dread clouded my thoughts, but I nodded. She was right. Silas reached over and placed his hand over mine, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. My skin tingled beneath his touch, and I scooted my blush-pink chair closer to him. Asenav noted our hands, then focused back on the book.
“Eman wasn’t always the only one of his kind. Many millennia ago, those who mended hearts were abundant in all the realms. Each of the Lands of Decim, as well as the surrounding realms, were thriving and at peace with one another. It was a glorious time.”
She paused before threading her fingers through her thick ringlets. After a moment, she produced a pair of round spectacles. “There you are,” she beamed, securing them on the tip of her nose.
Clearing her throat, Asenav continued, “There were two menders who were favored: Eman and Pulchar. Not only were they the best of the heartmenders, but they were also the best of friends.
“The Twelve Lands of Decim and the seven realms surrounding them were at peace like never before, but something changed. One day, while Pulchar was in Necto’s Library, he came upon a prophecy: In the darkest of times, a warrior will rise among them. Braided with the Sword and the Mallet, the Staff will complete the trio of almes, reigning light over dark.”
I laced my fingers through Silas’s, remembering reading that same prophecy when I was in Ramni. After pushing her spectacles up the bridge of her nose, Asenav twirled a blonde ringlet around her finger and read on.
“Since all the realms were at peace, Pulchar thought the prophecy was nonsense and discarded it as nothing to be worried about. But the One who sent the prophecy noticed Pulchar’s denial of what was to come.”
“What do you mean ‘the One who sent the prophecy’?” Claire cut in, clutching the green book to her chest, fully engrossed in Asenav’s story.
Asenav glanced up, her eyes three times bigger behind the magnified glass. “He is the One who controls all time and dimensions, weaving them into what they are. But that’s a tale for another time.”
Focusing back on the page, she explained, “The prophecy revealed itself to Eman next. Always trying to listen to the texts in Necto’s Library, Eman set forth to find the other two almes required to defeat the darkness in the coming days.
“As Eman tried to explain this to his friend, Pulchar became irate, believing his longtime friend a fool for putting his faith in the words of an old book. Eman tried to convince Pulchar to go with him, and together they would find the staff and the sword, but Pulchar refused.
“Once Eman left on his journey, Pulchar started to change. He refused to mend hearts, believing he had a greater, more powerful purpose. Each night, he would seethe over his comrade's stupidity for leaving on nothing but a belief. It was gradual, but soon his own pure heart transformed. At first, it was only a shade darker than before. But as Pulchar continued his hate and refusal of what he was instructed to do, his heart darkened until it was blacker than the night sky.”
“No,” Claire gasped, biting her nails. James gently patted her knee.
“The One who sent the prophecy would not allow one of such evil in the realm of healing. So, he cast him out, forcing Pulchar to leave everything he knew. The bitterness and hate continued to grow in Pulchar’s heart until there was nothing but a black heart. With his hardene
d heart, Pulchar changed his name to the one you know now: Ophidian, meaning heart of darkness. Ever since the day he was banished, Ophidian has been plotting against the One who banished him. He believes that if he can obtain immortality, he will have the power and strength to defeat the Weaver of Time and take his place.
“Regno is where Ophidian first entered into Decim, and it’s where he began poisoning all the Lands of Decim with his darkness.”
Asenav paused and glanced up, blinking. The room was silent, no one daring to move as we waited for her to continue.
Straightening in her gilded chair, she focused back on the book. “Eman’s own heart broke when the news traveled to him. He wept for days, unable to believe his friend’s betrayal. But in his heart, Eman knew it was true. He who was once his friend was now his enemy.
Claire sniffed, and I turned to find her wiping her eyes. “What?” she growled. “It’s sad.”
Asenav cleared her throat, and we both straightened before focusing back on her. She gave us a stern look over her spectacles, like Headmaster Clive, then read on. “Pulchar’s revenge began abruptly. He hated who he used to be and wanted to rid his mind of any memories of his former life. Hundreds of heartmenders were slaughtered by his creatures with red eyes in the Beginning Battle. It was a mass genocide throughout the realms.
“Eman refused to kill his friend and escaped before the creatures descended on him. He cloaked his realm of healing from their red eyes, sealing himself away from the other realms.
“It wasn’t until the beating of a pure heart sounded so strongly that Eman was able to break his seal to find its owner. That was when he faced his friend once again. It had been many years since he last saw Pulchar, and Eman kept his hope alive that his friend would return to his former self. But as he studied the dark figure in front of him, cloaked in hatred and rage, Eman made an iuram with the Weaver of Time to end Pulchar and stop his revenge, whatever the cost.”
Asenav closed her book. Claire was leaning so far forward in her seat, she was practically on the floor. Silas was stiffer than stone, his knuckles white as they grasped my hand. And Damien, who woke up halfway through the story, blinked rapidly, looking around Asenav’s cottage with confusion. James leaned back in his chair, face somber.
“So,” Asenav said, placing her spectacles back in her hair, “your task goes much further back in time than you thought.” She rose from her seat and returned the book to its place on the shelf.
My fingers twitched in Silas’s hand, palms clammy. How was I supposed to end this feud from centuries ago?
“Don’t fret, young Bellata,” Asenav said, prying my hand from Silas's before leading me in front of her. “You are more powerful than you believe.”
Releasing my hands, Asenav turned her palms to the ceiling, summoning a bright light. Within seconds, the flanged mace that had almost killed me before appeared in her grasp. The blades were silver, each one giving off a deadly shimmer as she wrapped her delicate fingers around the sturdy metal handle.
I gawked at the brutal weapon in amazement, thanking the Heavens Asenav hadn’t struck me earlier.
Asenav grinned widely. “The more you know, the more you need to protect yourself.” Kneeling, she pointed the mace to the ceiling. “I, Asenav Mirab, Magister of Valde, swear on my alme to fight with you until there is no life left within me.”
Reaching out, I grasped the handle of the mace, allowing its light to twist around me and infuse my heart with the iuram’s power until we were connected. As the light dissipated into the air, Asenav closed her palms, and the mace disappeared.
“She may seem kind and gentle, but you’ll think differently once you watch her wield that thing,” James said, standing slowly from the corner. He stretched out his leg a few times before wobbling toward us.
"Oh, I know," I muttered.
Asenav laughed as she held her hand out to James. He quickly took it.
“I truly am thankful that you are with us again, Dimitte. We need all Twelve to defeat the darkness. If we are not united, we will fail.”
James looked over at me with a proud smile. “I would have made my iuram to my granddaughter, whether all Twelve unite or not.”
I grinned back at him, realizing how thankful I was that he was here with me. Without James, I wasn't sure how we would have made it this far.
Asenav offered her home for us to stay in for the night. Though the earlier events made us hesitant at first, we all slept soundly.
The next morning, Asenav gave Claire the green book to keep and showed her a special salve that would help James’s knee before checking Damien’s wound one last time. Though her magic had healed his injury, he hardly remembered getting bitten by one of the rabid. Thankfully, he didn’t ask too many questions as we exited the cottage.
Before we crossed the front door threshold, James peeked outside to find that the number of townspeople had grown. The once rabid people hugged each other with tears of joy streaming down their cheeks.
“Since you destroyed the doors, my people didn’t have to be separated any longer,” Asenav explained, her eyes twinkling as she took in the joyful Valdeans. “My spell dividing them was broken, and they’re now reunited with their loved ones once more.”
James’s gaze bounced between all the villagers before he stood in front of our group, cautiously leading Silas, Claire, and Damien around the edge of the village. They each gave quick good-byes and hurried away toward the plain. I turned to tell Asenav thank you only to find she was already there.
“Do not be wary of your journey ahead, Bellata.” She gently touched my forehead. “Eman is with you. He will do what is right.”
I nodded, unsure of her meaning. "Thank you, Asenav. For everything."
She gave a small bow before releasing my hands, motioning to the satchel. “Your sacrifices as the Bellata are only beginning. Do not lose what you created from the destruction of the doors. When surrounded by darkness, there is always a glimmer of light.”
I remembered the golden leaf that had appeared after the doors had exploded. After stuffing it in my satchel, I had almost forgotten about it. Before I could ask for a further explanation, Asenav pushed me toward the group.
“Don’t start the battle without me!” she yelled, waving from her doorway.
James laughed, but the rest of us were silent. Asenav’s story of Eman and Ophidian kept playing through my thoughts. Ophidian would stop at nothing until he became immortal, and I feared that when we did fight the Beast, we may not return.
Chapter 24
As we returned to the grassy plains, I pushed our future battle to the back of my mind. What mattered now was finding the next Magister. Adjusting my satchel, I grasped the book. When I opened the cover, the map had disappeared, replaced with the phrase:
Probar se Duodecim forti resurge
“A warrior will rise to prove herself to the Twelve,” I read aloud. When I scanned the phrase again, the word Twelve had shifted to Eight. I straightened my stance, giddiness filling my steps. Four of the Twelve Magisters had joined my side.
James and Silas took the lead, giving me time to flip through the pages of the book. I expected to find it drawing a map of where we were to go next. But after I made it halfway through, and nothing happened, anxiety pricked my thoughts. What if Ophidian’s army had broken through Eman’s defenses and had taken over Ramni? What if Ophidian had somehow cursed this book, stopping it from helping me any further? Frantic, I turned the pages faster, causing everyone to stop.
“Calm down, Addie,” a familiar voice said.
My head jolted up. “Did you say something?” I asked. Silas shook his head. I turned to Claire. “Did you?”
She snorted. “You would’ve known if I had said something.”
I spun to James and Damien. “Did either of you?” They both shook their heads.
“Addie, down here.”
Looking down, I saw Lyle’s face smiling up at me. I gasped and dropped the book, flattening the
tall grass at my feet.
Silas took a step toward the book. “Was that—”
“That was Lyle!” Claire cried as she elbowed Silas in the stomach to get to the book. Kneeling on the ground, she quickly flipped it open and began filing through the pages so fast the book almost shrieked.
“Easy, Claire, you’re going to rip my face off.” Lyle chuckled.
Claire squealed as she smoothed out the pages with Lyle’s face on them. Excitement burbled in my chest as I joined her in her crouched position.
“There she is!” Lyle exclaimed with lifted hands. His eyes were bright behind his dark-rimmed spectacles.
“Hey,” I said hesitantly, unsure how to handle talking to my brother through a book. “Sorry for dropping you.”
Lyle laughed, bringing joy to my weary spirit. “No worries. I wasn’t sure if I could make the connection at first, but Eman has been teaching me so much. Ever since you left, we’ve been trying to lift the curse on that book you found.”
“Any luck?” I asked as Silas, James, and Damien gathered around us.
Lyle shook his head, sending his dark curls sprawling across his forehead. “None yet. Like I said, I’ve been learning other things, like contacting you through a book!”
Claire and I both giggled.
Focusing on Claire, Lyle placed a hand over his heart. “I miss you.”
Claire imitated him. “I miss you, too.”
Damien scoffed. Without missing a beat, Claire reared back and jabbed his shin with her elbow.
Damien stumbled back, cursing under his breath.
“There’s something you need to know, Claire,” Lyle said with a serious tone.
“What is it?”
“It’s about Doct—your dad.”
I leaned away from the book. Doctor Magnum. I had completely forgotten about him and about telling Claire we had brought him to Ramni. I held my breath. It was too late to tell her now.
Heartbreaker Page 18