by Lynette Noni
Somehow he must have known she was beyond words, so she did as he asked and sent him her memory with Roka, still in disbelief over her carelessness. For ten days she had managed to avoid sparring with him so she could keep him from accidentally spilling her blood—and just like that, it was all over. She couldn’t believe that of all things to have given away her mortality, a miniscule paper cut was to blame.
I’m such a fool, Alex woefully said to Xiraxus. I can’t believe I did that.
You’ll be okay, he told her. I promise, everything will be okay.
She didn’t believe him, but she allowed herself to become lost in the sensations of the flight as his powerful wings carried her safely through the sky. Higher and higher they rose until they broke through a cluster of clouds into the clear air above. Alex marvelled at the expanse of stars stretching out across the horizon and released a deep sigh of relief at seeing the floating islands of Draekora again, this time bathed in the light of the moon.
I didn’t realise you were so close to Meya, Alex said, trying to keep her mind off Roka and what he was probably doing right now; who he was probably talking to.
We’re almost directly above the city, Xiraxus confirmed. But our lands are too high for even immortal eyes to see from the ground.
Veering in an arc, the draekon headed straight towards one of the smaller islands positioned to the side. From far away, Alex could see that one half of the land was bordered with a semi-circled ring of snow-dusted mountains, at the base of which the remaining land stretched into what looked to be a multi-coloured glowing valley. When they touched down in the centre of the island, she was delighted to find herself surrounded by rolling pastures full of colourful, bioluminescent wildflowers.
“How beautiful,” she exclaimed, sliding off Xiraxus and into the phosphorescent blossoms. Some of them came to her ankles, others rose on stems higher than her hips, but all of them were unimaginably magical.
“I thought you might like it here,” Xiraxus said, curling his haunches underneath him and resting his torso on the valley floor, squashing flowers beneath his heavy weight. The kaleidoscopic radiance bounced off his dark hide, creating shards of light that sparkled like glitter.
Inhaling the sweet aroma of the flowers, Alex willed her body to relax as she cast her wandering gaze around the fairytale-like meadow and sat cross-legged in front of her rainbow-lit draekon.
“Everything that could have gone wrong today, went wrong,” she admitted quietly, needing to get it all off her chest. “First, I think I inadvertently gave Aven the idea to start Claiming humans—and believe me, Xira, that’s not something I want on my conscience—and then I went and gave away that I’m mortal to Roka who’s on the edge of deciding whether or not he agrees with his brother’s views regarding humans. This is not good. It’s whatever comes after bad because ‘bad’ is nowhere near potent enough to describe the severity of the situation.”
Xiraxus allowed her a moment to vent, not interrupting, but when she was done he said, “You can’t change what happened, Alex. All you can do is decide how you’ll react to it.”
Alex plucked the nearest flower from the ground and began pulling off its glowing petals. “How am I supposed to react, Xira? What can I possibly do to fix any of this?”
He moved his head closer, his eyes holding hers. “What makes you think anything needs fixing?”
Alex made a spluttering noise. “Did you not see what happened with Roka? Or hear what I said about Aven?”
“Didn’t Aes Daega tell you that nothing you do here will change what happens in the future?”
Alex opened her mouth but then snapped it shut again, knowing he was right. Then she said, “Let’s not forget I’m still stuck here for who knows how long. What am I supposed to do? Hide in Draekora until we leave?”
“The night before last you told me you made a deliberate decision to remain here when you could have returned to your time,” Xiraxus said. “You made that decision not knowing what you’d face in the time you have left here, but confident that this is where you needed to be. Am I right?”
Alex offered a reluctant hum of agreement.
“You can’t change what happened with Roka and Aven today,” Xiraxus repeated, “but you might want to consider the possibility that the events played out exactly as they were supposed to.”
Shaking her head, Alex said, “It sounds like you’re suggesting that what’s happening here is predetermined, like all I’m doing is following a destiny already laid out for me, blindly walking a path without any say in the matter. But I can’t accept that.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because it implies I have no authority over my life.”
The draekon rumbled with laughter.
Frowning, she asked, “How is that funny?”
“Alex,” he said, “you’re stuck in the past where your actions affect the future but don’t change it. That means whatever you do here has already been done here—by you.” He laughed again. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but right now, right here, you don’t have any power to choose what happens. Or rather, you do, but the power of choice you have will still lead to the future you know. Nothing you can do will change that, so you might as well embrace your lack of control and try to find some comfort in it.”
His words, though frustrating, made sense. That, and his reasoning matched Lady Mystique’s as well. But Alex hated the idea that she might be responsible for so much of the pain that Aven would bring upon the future. She’d already provided him with a name for his notoriously murderous group, and given him cause to think about the Claiming ritual; what else was she going to do? And how would he respond if Roka spilled the beans about her being mortal?
“This is such a nightmare,” Alex groaned, collapsing back onto the flowers and looking up into the star-strewn sky. Goose bumps covered her flesh from the crisp air but she hardly felt the cold, mostly because her insides were still just as chilled after everything that had happened.
“Nightmare or not, you know what you have to do,” Xiraxus said, nudging her foot lightly with his muzzle.
“I have to go back,” Alex said in a bland tone. “I know that. I know I have to face Roka and explain. It’s just…” She broke off into a heavy sigh before finishing, “Can we just stay here a few more minutes?”
In a gentle voice, Xiraxus replied, “We can stay as long as you need.”
Twenty-Six
It could have been minutes or it could have been hours, but eventually Alex decided she was ready to face whatever might be waiting for her at the palace.
She was glad for the time she’d been able to spend with Xiraxus, grateful for his support and quiet counsel. But she knew she couldn’t avoid Roka forever. And sure enough, as soon as the draekon landed on her balcony, Alex discovered she wouldn’t have to wait long for the dreaded confrontation.
Will you be all right if I leave you? Xiraxus asked, the two of them noting the Meyarin prince sitting on her bed hunched over with his head in his hands, his posture speaking volumes.
She wanted to ask Xiraxus to stay—or to take her back up to the enchanting valley again—but she knew either of those options would only make things worse. I’ll be okay, she told him, hoping it was true. But, um, maybe stay close, just in case.
I’m only a short flight away, he promised, nuzzling her with his big head before launching himself into the air.
Inhaling deeply, Alex hesitantly walked into her room, her eyes on her feet even when she felt Roka tracking her every movement. The radiance from the city streamed in, and that combined with the burning myraes in the hearth provided enough light for her to see, but only just. And yet, Roka didn’t clap his hands to make the room brighter.
Coming to a stand just a few paces from him, Alex wrapped her arms around herself, swallowed thickly and found the courage to meet his eyes. She expected to find the same emotions from earlier there—confusion, fear, anger. But his face was guarded, making him impossible to read.
&
nbsp; When Roka finally spoke, his quiet words felt like they were shouted, so tense was the atmosphere. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come back.”
Just as quietly, Alex admitted, “I wasn’t sure if I was going to, either.”
It would have been much easier for her to wait out her remaining days in Draekora with Xiraxus, but that didn’t mean it would have been right.
“Why did you?”
Three simple words from Roka, and Alex struggled to find an answer.
“A lot of reasons,” she said. “Mostly because this is where I need to be.”
The shadows highlighted the moment he tightened his jaw and also when he forced his muscles to relax.
“I’m sorry, Aeylia.”
Alex’s body jolted with his apology, so surprised as she was to hear the quiet words from his mouth. “You’re sorry? What can you possibly have to be sorry for?”
His response was as instant as it was sure. “I shouldn’t have taken off on you like that. I should have let you explain. I—You caught me off-guard, but that’s no excuse for how I reacted. I could have handled that much better.”
Shaking her head the whole time he spoke, Alex said, “Are you kidding? You’d just found out… what you’d just found out. Your reaction was beyond justified.”
He looked at her carefully for a moment, seeming to come to a decision. He patted the spot beside him on her bed, gesturing for her to sit. “I’m ready to listen now,” he said, “if you’re still willing to explain.”
It was one of those invitations that wasn’t quite an invitation. But still, she was grateful for the illusion of choice, so she offered what little smile of thanks she could muster and took a seat at his side.
Not sure where to start but trusting that since the cat was already out of the bag, she might as well send the kittens on their way too, Alex decided to throw it all out there for him.
“So, here’s the thing,” she said, keeping her voice low enough that no other Meyarin ears would be able to hear. “I’m not just human, I’m also from the future.” She swore she could actually feel Roka’s body solidify beside her, so she hurried on before she could chicken out. “I was on my varrungard when a series of events led to me being accidentally pulled into the abrassa with Xiraxus—with the heir of Draekora. Since mortals can’t survive the Void, he had to create the vaeliana bond with me to keep me alive, but we still became separated coming out this end—which is why, when I woke up here and none of you recognised me, I freaked out a bit.” And fell off the side of the building, Alex decided not to mention. “Because of my… association with Meya in the future, when Lady Mys—uh, Aes Daega met me in Draekora to explain a few things, she said it would be best for me to spend my time down here in the city until Xira can return me to the future, which will happen as soon as he has the energy to open the abrassa again, sometime in the next couple of weeks. You already know the rest—Aes Daega brought me straight from Draekora to the palace where you all agreed to take me in and educate me in the ways of your people.”
Alex thought she’d done well to summarise the main points so succinctly, but when she found the courage to look at Roka, she feared perhaps she’d given him too much, too quickly. Indeed, she wondered if he had stopped breathing, so still as he was.
“Uh, Roka?” she called. “You still with me?”
“I’m here in the room,” he answered, his voice strained. “But that’s all I can say.”
Okie doke, Alex thought, figuring she should maybe give him a moment.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, Roka eventually gathered his thoughts enough to speak. Unfortunately, what he asked was the one thing Alex was hesitant to answer.
“How can you be human, yet still be able to call up the Valispath and fight with the strength and agility of a Meyarin?” he asked. “Not to mention, why were you undertaking the varrungard if you’re mortal? I assume in your future”—he sounded incredulous just saying that, and Alex could relate—“the trial is still used to decide who will become Zeltora? But how could a human ever be accepted into the elite guard?”
Deciding to answer the easiest part first, Alex said, “I wasn’t on the varrungard to try out for the guard. It was more to test my… Meyarin-ness.”
In a dubious tone, he repeated, “Your Meyarin-ness?”
Picking at a thread on the blanket beside her, Alex quietly asked, “Who did you tell, Roka? About what happened today, I mean.”
There was a pause before he answered, “No one, Aeylia. After I cleared my head, I decided to wait to hear you out first.”
Alex nodded, hoping that would be the case but hardly believing her luck. “If I answer your question, you have to promise, you have to swear that what I tell you will go no further than us.”
She’d been staring at her fidgeting fingers, but when Roka reached out for her chin and turned her to face him, she didn’t resist his gentle touch.
His eyes were steady on hers when he said, “I swear by the stars that I will keep whatever secrets you entrust to me.”
Biting her lip, Alex took in his open, honest expression and uncurled her left hand, showing him her scar. “In the future, a… very bad Meyarin is doing… very bad things.” Jeez, I suck at this, Alex thought, wincing at her lame offering but continuing anyway. “This Meyarin needed something from me but I wasn’t willing to help, so he—or she—performed the Menada dae Loransa on me, Claiming my will as their own.”
Roka’s reaction was fierce as horror overtook his features. “But you’re mortal!”
“I am,” Alex confirmed.
“And blood-bonding rituals are supposed to be forbidden on pain of death,” Roka continued. “Or… Does that change in the future?”
“No, the Claiming ritual is still very much forbidden,” Alex said firmly. “But this Meyarin no longer lives by the laws of Meya. They are… an outcast, I suppose you could say. Accountable to no one and caring nothing for right and wrong.” She let that sink in and said, “And it didn’t matter that I was mortal. They started practising the ritual on others of my kind long before my time.”
“Others?” Roka swallowed. “You don’t mean…?”
“I’m not the only mortal this Meyarin has bonded with,” Alex answered. “They were—are—actively seeking out gifted humans, people who your grandfather created Akarnae for, because with control over the mortals comes control over their gifts.”
“But why?” Roka asked, aghast. “What could motivate anyone to do something so inherently evil?”
“From what I understand,” Alex said, being very careful with her words, “they thought they were doing the right thing. At least to start with. Now I don’t think they care. It’s all in the name of vengeance now.”
Roka’s face was so pale even the shadows couldn’t mask his horror. “If this Meyarin is so malicious, how did you get them to Release you from the bond? I know you wouldn’t be here freely telling me all this if you were still Claimed.”
“No, I’m not bonded anymore,” Alex confirmed, answering his unspoken question. “But the Meyarin didn’t willingly Release me. In fact, I didn’t even know anyone could be Released from Menada dae Loransa until recently. But I’m hoping—I’m hoping now that I do, I’ll be able to find a way to free some of the other bonded humans when I get back to my time.”
“But if the one who Claimed you didn’t Release you, then how—”
“I’m gifted,” Alex interrupted. “I’m a student at Akarnae. I didn’t know it when the ritual was performed on me, but it turns out I have a supernatural strength of will. My gift was triggered when I was under the influence of the Claiming, allowing my willpower to break the bond between us.”
With a voice full of awe, Roka said, “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Trust me, you’re not the only one,” Alex said, somewhat dryly. “But in a roundabout way, what I’m trying to explain is that something in me changed when the bond was severed. Somehow I ended up absorbing Meyarin chara
cteristics that, even though I’m no longer Claimed, I’ve still managed to retain.”
Roka made a pensive sound. “I bet it’s because you weren’t willingly Released.”
“Sorry?”
“From the bond,” he clarified. “From the accounts I’ve read, whenever a Claimed Meyarin was willingly Released by their healer, the grip of the ritual left them instantly. But since it sounds like you destroyed your bond by sheer strength of will, the life force that was Claiming you left a trace residue behind. Almost like the difference between cutting a piece of cloth cleanly as opposed to ripping it and leaving frayed edges behind.”
“Are you calling me a frayed edge, Roka?” Alex asked, a small smile on her face.
His return smile was brief but she definitely saw a flash of it. “Not you personally, Aeylia, but the effect of the Meyarin blood that was in your veins.”
“Strangely enough, you and I have already had a similar conversation to this before, though neither of us made the connection to the ‘willingly Released’ part then. Still, it’s good to understand that might be why the Meyarin abilities have stayed with me.”
As she spoke, Roka seemed to slump beside her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “I’m just relieved. That’s the first time you’ve mentioned the future me. I was worried…”
“That you’re dead?” Alex guessed.
He let out a startled chuckle. “No. I was worried I might have been the outcast Meyarin Claiming mortals.”
It was Alex’s turn to stiffen in shock. “Why would you say that?”
His shoulders rose and fell. “Very few people have access to the knowledge of how to perform Menada dae Loransa any more. I’m one of them. You can’t blame me for being concerned.”
Looking at him with undisguised disbelief, Alex demanded, “Do you really think I’d be sitting here with you if your future self had done all that to me?”
If anything, Roka’s relief only grew. “I’m guessing since you’re so friendly with the others, none of them are to blame, either,” he deduced—incorrectly.