by Kenna Bardot
“I do, Little Bird. And if it is your father, he would want you to go through with it. He would want to do everything in his power to make sure you had the opportunity to keep going on.” I handed her the rose, watching as she wrapped her delicate fingers around the stem. She hung her head forward, a deep sigh pulling from her.
“Little Bird,” I soothed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“I miss him. So much. You know he calls me that, understand how much I love him. Only you,” she cried, burying her face into my chest. I knew I had to be somewhere else, but I didn’t give an ounce of thought to it. When Kaia needed me, there was nowhere else I would ever be.
“Kaia. You know your dad would give anything to see you again,” my voice took on a pleading quality. I knew I needed to make it an easier decision for her. The possibility that she might choose the alternative was...unthinkable. I knew I wouldn’t survive losing her again. Not like that.
“Not like this.” She shook her head, still buried against me, her thoughts about her father echoing my own sentiment for her.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her hand and drew back momentarily. My hand reached up to cup her cheek, running my thumb over the scar on her cheekbone.
It was the most beautiful thing - a reminder of how she had survived. And now, she was here, still surviving.
“Yes, like this,” I murmured. Her eyes met mine, and I knew she understood all those words I didn’t say. I knew she understood that I knew her father would give anything to see her again, even this.
Because I would have done the same thing.
She fell silent and buried her face in my shoulder once more, and I just let her cry herself out.
It was still early.
Everything else could wait.
Five
Kaia
Time passed in a peculiar fashion - fast as lighting one moment and slow as trickling sand the next. It was like we’d been in class for ages when we’d only just sat down. I threw a concerned glance at Lottie as we waited for class to start - her movements were so robotic, like she was on autopilot. There but not really so much so, I missed her even when she was right beside me. As we walked down the hallway to class, she’d been silent and unresponsive. Lottie, my Lottie, was gone.
But who was I to talk in the end? I didn’t feel like the same Kaia I’d been before either. I drummed my fingers on the desk, lips pursed as I watched Lottie vacantly stare at the board. The rest of our classmates trickled in slowly. Pia glared at me before plopping down on her seat, and I didn’t care one bit. I just watched intently as Docent Woods strode in on long legs that rivaled even Ronan’s.
He leaned against his table and turned to face us. “Good morning, class. How are you all?”
“Fine,” I mumbled, my soft voice mingling with my classmates’ equally unenthusiastic replies - except for Lottie. Lottie remained unmoved still, unspeaking.
“It is perfectly understandable if you are not. We ask much of you in your first weeks as fourth years. As new Disciples, you all have to realize the difference from being Rooks, as you previously were from first to third year. Your Loyalty Trials are coming up. From personal experience, I know it to be difficult ordeal. To cope with what is asked of you, you’ll have to reflect on why we ask this of you. You’re not asked to do it because we wish to hurt you or punish you. We wish for you to become one of us, and in that joining, understand and respect the gravity of such a union. No Air Mage does not go through this same wrestling of self.”
I sniffled, reaching up to swipe at my tear-streaked cheeks. I stole a glance at Lottie, but she hadn’t reacted. She still stared straight at the board, but who knew what she was really seeing.
“In preparation for what you will undoubtedly endure during your Loyalty Trial and the changes you will be faced with, today we will conduct a simple thought exercise. Probably a good thing considering this class is called ‘Critical Thinking’.” The class laughed half-heartedly at his joke, and he just smiled, tapping his brass knuckles against the tabletop.
"Let's start with the Assassins. An Air Assassin has been tasked to guide a young girl to her rebirth. At the time said Assassin arrives, the Inked has climbed a tree.”
My hand tightened on the side of my desk. It brought back memories of my childhood. There was no way Woods could know that the words he spoke would strike so close to home, but anxiety danced over my skin like electric currents.
Docent Woods continued, “Upon seeing that this child is on top of the tree, she is made to tumble down subtly, but the sleeve of her shirt catches on a branch and slows the drop, making it non-fatal. What should you do?”
“Blow the child off,” Pia spoke up confidently for all the class to hear. I winced at her answer. Damn if the bitch wasn’t a psychopath.
“That could work, yes, Miss Ramos. However, we need to remember the Tenets of the Air Mages. Guide but never torture. Protect but never interfere. Secure but never hurt. Does your suggestion operate under these tenets?” A beat of silence. “Would someone else like to try?”
“Depending on how high up the Inked is still at, it might be best to guide the branch to break, Docent Woods.”
“Ah, Mr. Dunn, better. Well done. You prefaced that with a question - how high up is our target? You have to remember to always look at a situation from an analytical viewpoint. A thorough analysis precludes a successful mission. Does anyone else have anything to add?” He looked around but nobody spoke up and he smiled. “In this situation, our next question is what time it is. While it is important to note that a rebirth date, especially an adult one, is set in stone,” he smiled as he spoke, his gaze turning to me, those eyes twinkling in amusement, “if one opportunity is unsuccessful, there will likely be another chance to do so if the Inked’s destiny has been set in gold. If the Inked survives the fall and the scroll calls for there to be a rebirth then it can always corrected.”
My grip tightened on my stylus, my fingers trembling in fear as I realized that if my scroll did contain my father’s name, it was inevitable. I had no escape from what I would need to do.
“Now, Miss Montgomery, onto protection. Your personal passion, yes? Let’s imagine a married couple is arguing rather passionately about something. Perhaps something as peculiar as monogamy.” The class snickered, but Lottie just stared at her fan which she’d lain, open, on her desk. The raven just lay there, face up, listless. Just as Lottie sat there, lifeless. Even at the mention of her name she said nothing, did nothing.
“Consider that one pulls out a rather large knife from the knife block and has already nicked their partner’s shoulder. Neither of them are set to be reborn on that date or even that year. What does an Air Protector Mage do?”
A minute of uncomfortable silence passed and Docent Woods knocked his brass knuckles against the table.
“Miss Montgomery, if you can direct your attention to me, please.” Docent Woods rapped his brass knuckles on the table once more.
Lottie glanced up and whispered softly, “I am no longer certain, Docent Woods.”
I frowned. Just days after she’d declared a passionate love for protection, to see Lottie act so brought home just how affected she was by events that she had nothing to say. Docent Woods looked at her thoughtfully for a few moments before nodding with a sad grimace.
“Okay, Mr. Ferguson, same question. What do we do in this case?”
Our classmate, this one a lanky blond man with dark green eyes sat up and answered, but I tuned him out and simply watched Lottie, who ignored all the looks I threw in her direction.
I didn’t know what I could do to help her cope.
I couldn’t really cope myself.
✽✽✽
"Hello, Little One," I jolted at the sound of the deep voice behind me in the library and I turned wide eyes up to find Cel staring down at me with a small, sympathetic smile. That stunning, perfect face of his was so carefully blank, empty but for the small emotion playing about his plump lips. I tore
my eyes from his, darting my gaze around the main space of the library. Students sat in their own private huddles, but some of them looked. I caught them casting curious glances our way.
I'd been so caught up in wondering what to do to help Lottie, so consumed in my own world, I hadn't even noticed Cel coming up behind me - so close he was only an inch from pressing against the back of me. He tugged a chair out from the table beside me, claiming it for himself. He sat facing me, staring at the side of my face. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the blush his attention brought to the surface. It was no wonder Emerson still had feelings for the man, despite having three boyfriends and one girlfriend. There was something so intense about the way Cel’s gaze felt as he studied me, hazel eyes calculating and seeing everything I didn't want him to see.
"Marcellus," I whispered finally, opening my eyes and turning to face him head on.
His eyes flared briefly, the only outward sign of reaction he might show. He shut it down quickly, shaking his head with a disbelieving frown. I immediately detested the way the frown looked on his face. Aside from his interaction with Emerson and I, I'd never seen him anything but neutral. Negative looked wrong on his flawless features, like he was meant to have his eyes dancing and lips tipped up at the corners in amusement he couldn't control.
I turned my eyes away with a nervous swallow, not liking the shift in his attention from sympathy to something darker. His left hand reached under the edge of the table, grasping the arm of my chair and turning me in place. The legs scraped against the floor, making even more eyes turn our way as the sound echoed through the cavernous space. One glare from Cel made them turn back to their own studies.
He leaned forward, crowding into my space slightly with a hand on each arm of my chair. "What is it?" he asked.
I turned my eyes away with a sigh, running a hand through my hair and chewing on my bottom lip nervously.
"Kaia," he warned, leaning in just a little farther. The fingers of his right hand fluttered against my forearm, sending a tingle of awareness flooding through me.
"I'm worried about Lottie," I said quickly. "She isn't coping well after the announcement of the Loyalty Trial," I added on a whisper with a glance around to be sure no other students could hear me.
He sat back in his chair, sighing out a deep breath even as he studied me. "Only Lottie?"
"What?" I tilted my head in confusion.
"Is it only Lottie who isn't coping? I remember how I felt before the Trial, Kaia. I didn't handle it well. Being terrified of it isn't something to be ashamed of." His voice was soft, cajoling, as he tried to draw me from the wall I was trying to erect between us. I knew I had to keep the mysterious, intoxicating man at a distance for my own good. "Even if you don't know who-"
"I know," I cut him off, staring down at my fingers as I swallowed.
His finger touched the underside of my chin, tipping my face up gently to stare down at me. "Are you sure? Who?"
"My father. Or at least I’m almost a hundred percent certain," I answered on a grimace, and his eyes widened in surprise.
"That's… well, that's unspeakably unfortunate." He grimaced, taking my hands in his and leaning so far into my space that his breath touched my skin.
I felt my eyes grow wet under his scrutiny.
"I can't do it," I whispered, voicing the doubts I hadn't been able to tell anyone else. Lottie was too far gone in her own grief to be a shoulder for me, I couldn't talk to Emerson at all, and Gale would only tell me to never entertain that notion again.
"You can, and you will," Cel returned, those hazel eyes boring into mine. "Think of what it would do to Emerson if he lost you."
"Who was yours?" I asked on a sigh, certain I wouldn't want to hear his answer. Not after how insignificant Vali's sacrifice had been in comparison to mine.
"My aunt," he surprised me by returning. No hesitation, no question of whether or not he wanted to let me see beneath the surface into the man he was. "My mother's older sister. My mom died giving birth to me, so I was raised by my dad and my aunt until I joined the Order. I was young, only eight when I left, but I still remember her. Family is everything."
"Then how did you manage to-"
"She was older, Little One. Almost seventy-years-old. Because of me, she never knew what it was to be sick or feel real pain. She never had to be afraid. I gave her that gift, and that's something that no one can take away from me," Cel's voice was even, only the slightest hitch hinting at an emotion in his gruff voice.
It was ironic really, Vali had the smooth, honeyed voice I would have expected Cel to have. And Cel had the deep, almost brutal voice I'd have expected of Vali at first glance.
"I don't understand, I guess."
"If someone else was the one to sacrifice your father, and he will be sacrificed, then they could mess it up. They could cause pain, make him suffer unnecessarily. If you do it and do it right, then you have the opportunity to know his last moments were painless."
"I guess." I shrugged, fiddling with the corners of the book I had open in front of me. I’d been trying to read the same paragraph for fifteen minutes.
"You have an advantage. The majority of us have no clue who to expect when we go to accept our scroll. Living with that anxiety is difficult, but you can escape that fate and begin your journey to acceptance. You can take the time you need to prepare yourself for that." I took my other hand back from his, giving him a nod of thanks and a small smile.
"Thank you, for checking on me. You're a good man, Marcellus Castelo. Beyond just that pretty face."
His eyes narrowed momentarily, but not in aggravation or anything of the sort, but more like consideration. He stood, cupping my jaw in his hand as he went. His thumb grazed the flesh of my bottom lip, and he stared at it as though transfixed for a moment with a smile on his face.
"I'm always available for you, Kaia. Should you need someone else to talk to."
I beamed up at him in appreciation, and his own smile faded as he stared at me. "Can I ask you something? Out of curiosity?"
"Of course."
"You seem dominant at times, like you expect to be obeyed, but others you seem almost soft. Gentle. Which one are you really?" I was treading a thin line, but I couldn't quite get a read on the intriguing man, and it was nagging at me.
"I am whoever I need to be," he answered with a grin.
"Then what about you? What about your needs?" A sense of urgency flooded me. I didn’t know where it came from.
He shrugged. "I just want to be connected. To feel, like, for a moment in time, someone sees me beneath the mask."
I tilted my head at him thoughtfully. "Why only for a moment?"
He smiled at me meaningfully, and I knew instantly I was missing something significant. "I've got to find myself someone worth more than just that moment of my time. Goodbye, Little One." I turned back to the table, smiling at my book softly.
It was no wonder Emerson still had feelings for the complicated man.
I was fucked.
✽✽✽
Nearly a week passed and nothing changed. My classmates and I were experiencing varied levels of nerves, terror and excitement. After the talk with Cel and Vali’s revelation, it became evident that not everyone had known who they would be sacrificing. Even still, everyone in my year stressed to think back and try to remember who it could be they’d have to guide into rebirth. The only person who had nothing to say about the matter was Lottie. In fact, she had reverted to simply saying nothing. Period.
Quiet. Reserved. Withdrawn. The Lottie I knew and loved was gone, only to be replaced by an empty shell. As the dreaded day rolled closer, she’d retreated more and more into herself. Hours would pass, and I would have no idea where she was, what she was doing, how she was feeling. Worry ate away at me.
Less than twenty-four hours remained before we were to face our commitment to Zeevar - the Loyalty Trial- and it was like a weight that crushed the inner depths of our soul, a sword hanging over our heads.
That knowledge, those shared feelings was why I asked Emerson to sleep in his own room just for the night. I needed Lottie, only Lottie, and I knew Emerson couldn’t bring either of us comfort.
But she’d been missing.
I wandered. Searched for what seemed like hours until I finally found her standing in the empty courtyard, staring at the starlit sky.
The moonlight shone on her face, highlighted how thin and gaunt she looked. Haunted. She’d lost weight and there were bags under her eyes. Still, there was a calm to her, an almost otherworldly peace that frightened me at the same time it drew me closer.
Without turning to me, she whispered, seemingly sensing my approach, “It’s so beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
I smiled, sad, even though she didn’t see. I walked forward and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. Her hand touched my arm as I leaned my head on her back.
“It is,” I whispered, barely heard, afraid to wake the world.
This was our moment. A part inside me shouted, and I was determined that nothing would destroy it.
She chuckled, a low mirthless sound. “It shouldn’t be. Not with what tomorrow holds for us. It came so fast, didn’t it? Sometimes, though, it felt like I’d been waiting forever but then a blink of an eye and it’s there. But I suppose I’m glad for the beauty of tonight in a way. Happy to have something beautiful to behold,” she sighed out, turning her body to me. She touched the sides of my face and stared at me for what felt like a beat and an eternity. Blue, bloodshot and swimming with tears - her eyes would always haunt me, I knew. The look of a woman who would need to do something she wanted nothing more than to avoid.
She sighed and the thread snapped, the moment gone, and back was my friend, unbearably sad and inexplicably alone. She moved over to the fountain and sat down on the stone bench. I followed and sat on the spot she patted, because realistically I knew I would follow Lottie almost anywhere. As much as I needed and depended on my men, there was a bond between Lottie and I that no one could ever touch. She was my rock. But for once she needed me, and I hoped I could be hers.