He had been older than most when he took the tests, and Sienna never did. She had nothing to compare herself to in her immediate circle. Her friends in her classes, had not begun to bridge taking the tests.
“You are young, yes,” he said. “But you wouldn't be the youngest. It isn't about age, Prada, it's about readiness, strength, maturity. And what you have suggested here today, tells me you are ready.”
You just don't want another one to not take the tests, her old anger flared up.
“Your success is not dependent on what happened to Sienna,” he said. “You are your own person. You can do this. I believe in you.”
She held his gaze, watching. Her Maestro had put up with so much, had been through so much in his life. He was frustrated often, but he was also patient and kind. And there was no one else who would have taken her on, she knew that. Nathaniel had not had an easy time as a Maestro.
What else do you believe, Maestro? she asked, her bond to his mind strengthening every moment.
She knew what he was thinking.
He sighed.
“If we get through this and you choose to stay, I will wait you out. But I've been thinking about how we talked of different paths…and maybe a different path is right for me.”
With Eliza? she asked.
With Eliza, he confirmed, If she'll have me. But not before you are ready, Prada. You are my duty, my legacy. The only one.
Her eyes lit up at that.
“I can do this,” she said, even though she wasn't sure that she could. Her voice made him smile.
“Prada…” he chose his words carefully. “Despite their power, they are still different, in their views.”
I know, she returned to their bond. I know. But I'm more powerful than all of them.
“That you are,” he said softly, thinking in more ways than one. “That you are.”
I will talk to them more, she said and he nodded.
“Go,” he said. “Tell them that she is no better, no worse. That she will have a long recovery.”
They wanted he,r too, Prada revealed. Her power could aid them.
She can aid no one like this, Nathaniel thought. “Only you can.”
Prada nodded and disappeared down the hallway. Nathaniel watched her go for a moment before ducking back into the med bay.
“Did I just hear right?” Desmond asked, as Nathaniel returned. His former Tiro looked down.
“What did you hear?”
“You are giving up the Order?”
“I—” Nathaniel sighed. “I've been struggling with this for a while. Not just with Prada, but with what I wanted, where I was best suited, where I could serve Nature best. I was only ever a warrior, Desmond. I wasn't a diplomat like you, I wasn't a translator, or a pilot. And I'm not the best Maestro.”
“You were given very difficult Tiros,” Desmond said. “ And you did a phenomenal job of both of them, given the situation.”
“But it may be that I have a different path,” Nathaniel said. “That I want a different path. And that this is Prada's path, this is what she was created to do, I think. She was not created by Nature to be this powerful without a reason and this could be it, to unite these two factions.”
“Is that what Nature is telling you?”
“I think,” Nathaniel said, meeting his former Maestro's eyes. “I think this is her purpose and if she can unite them with the power like they have, and the mind we have brought her up to have… it could be possible. Prada could do that…I just wonder…”
“Hmm?” Desmond asked.
“I wonder whether Sienna had the same purpose, and it went wrong. So Nature gave us Prada, a second chance. And it was under our care, as if it was all a plan.”
“As if Nature had figured things out,” Desmond smiled. Nathaniel snorted.
“I suppose so,” he said. “I suppose so. Anyways.” He leaned onto his elbows, against the edge of the bed. “This takes me back.”
“Do you remember when she was a child?” Desmond asked. “How often we'd stand here, in this same position?”
“I felt like I was a broken record,” Nathaniel said. “I only have three things I could say, over and over again. Eat your food, put on a sweater, go to sleep.”
Desmond laughed.
“I remember that,” he said. “I think you spent five years with those words on loop.”
“Thanks,” Nathaniel answered, as one of Sienna's monitors beeped. He hit the button to reset it, as if on autopilot. “Creator, I hate this. I can't watch her go through this. She was so close to having a normal life, and if Devon is gone from her, then…”
“Will Prada help?”
“It's possible,” Nathaniel said. “But we have to survive this first.”
By the time they landed, Nathaniel could feel the magic practically seeping through the walls. He knew that Eliza's forces were there, he knew that the Academy was on high alert, and he could feel magical signatures that felt odd.
The dead. The dead that Sienna had returned to life through the portal were lingering. Some from Jeffro, some from the Academy, every possible portal that she could access.
If she wasn't hanging between life and death, Nathaniel would have been proud of her. She would have been the witch that brought balance, but Nature had another plan for her.
There was a commotion outside, and Nathaniel barely moved, listening to the voices.
“I don't need to know the language to know what they are screaming about,” he said. “They have just realized they are outnumbered.”
“And so it begins,” Desmond said. “Except you and I are now on the other side of a battle we thought we'd never see.”
Nathaniel took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Everything that he had learned, everything that he had taught Prada was now called into question. He could only hope that he had done right. He had taken the tests so many years ago, but this felt like the ultimate test for a witch.
Prada was standing at the doorway to the gangplank, in between two Dramoonian leaders, armed with magic flowing through their bodies. She had her magic working through her fingers, and everyone knew that she was the most powerful one of all. As the gangplank lowered and Thomas saw Prada standing there, he took a step back.
He had seen what damage this girl had done to the school, when she was out of control. Where was Nathaniel? Where was her control?
Prada took a deep breath, looking down upon the crowd that had gathered.
Eliza's Jeffro forces were in the background, and Prada could see beyond them, a mess of confused looking witches. These were those Sienna had raised, opened the portal for.
“Prada,” said Thomas, as she approached. “Are you held hostage?”
She swallowed, wishing Nathaniel was here. But in this moment, she had to stand alone.
These were her people. It didn't matter whether they came from the same planet, the same race. They had the same magic, they had the same power.
She shook her head, drawing up on courage to try and speak.
“Where is Nathaniel?”
“These—” her voice trembled. Everyone was shocked to hear her speak. “These witches want nothing more but recognition from the Jurors. They are like me.”
“You will release Nathaniel and Sienna.” Eliza pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “Or we will attack with such fury…”
We are outnumbered, she heard the Dramoonian leader beside her. Who are they?
They are the dead. Prada turned to him. Sienna raised the dead when you forced her magic.
You can do that, came the response.
I can protect you, Prada responded I can protect you or we will face certain death. We are warrior, but we are not wanting death.
There was silence in her head, and then she moved forward.
“They are witches ,too,” she cried out to the Jurors, who were tensed. “Peace, not war. Warriors, not killers. Dramoon is not what you think.”
She was shaking, terrif
ied. But she kept talking. Prada felt like each step she took, she was getting braver. She was created for this purpose. She knew that now.
She just hoped that she lived through it.
There was the longest silence she had ever known, in which they stared each other down.
All eyes were on Prada before long. She could take all of them down if she wanted – if she was angry enough.
But it was clear she wanted peace.
At last, Thomas took a deep breath. “We are happy to talk, if you are. For the first time, we are happy to recognize Dramoonian forces within the Jurors chambers. We are happy to try and reach an agreement.”
“Only if…” The Dramoonian leader surprised Prada by speaking, slow, thought out basic. “Only if Prada remains with us. She is one of us.”
“I will,” Prada assured them. “But there are conditions”
They watched her, waiting, hoping.
“The three of them go free. And I return to Jeffro…to raise Sienna's Devon, to heal him once and for all.”
“Granted,” came the words, and Prada knew her life was about to change.
Chapter 14
“Is she here?”
“She's here,” Desmond said, barely through Sienna's door. How she had survived this recent fight with magic, he didn't know. But he had the feeling that being reunited with Devon was the thing that got her through, brought her back once again from the brink of death. “She's here and she's going to try, Sienna. But that is a lot of magic she is going to use, and I'm not sure I want you anywhere near it.”
“Maestro,” Sienna gave him a look. “You can't say that anymore.”
“I can't,” Desmond said. “But I have a feeling you'll listen to me, anyways, won't you?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You'll tell me as soon as it's done?”
“Yes, I will,” he promised. “But…there's no one besides you who has ever tried this.”
“I know,” Sienna said. “But Prada can do it. She was put in this galaxy to save people, I know she was. And Nathaniel was put here to guide both of us.”
“And now to be a Prince,” Desmond said. Sienna raised an eyebrow.
“It's odd, isn't it? He'll be coronated next week and the Order will be down one more witch.”
“But gaining so many in their alliance with Dramoon,” Desmond pointed out. “I'm sure they won't enjoy losing Nathaniel's mouth though.”
“His commentary got me through life,” she said, with a smile. “And now his Tiro will get me through the rest of it. Creator-speed.”
“I'll be back soon,” he promised her, heading down the hallway.
Prada and Nathaniel waited at the end of the hall. Without the confines of the Order, Nathaniel seemed more relaxed, his dress now Jeffroian. He would be married to Eliza and coronated soon, everything he had dared to dream for. And Prada, beside him, a full witch, the tests passed with the highest score ever, now stood with her head held higher and her eyes ablaze.
It was a rocky road, but Desmond thought it was the best outcome for everyone.
Now, if they could just make it the best outcome for Sienna as well, it would be a miracle.
Desmond wasn't sure Nature granted miracles much anymore, but he hoped for one, anyways.
“She's all right,” Desmond said. “But her usual impatience is dominant. If we don't tell her within the next 10 minutes...”
“I can do this,” Prada assured Desmond, as if she hadn't spent years not speaking to anyone else. “I've done it since we've last seen each other.”
“You have?” Desmond asked in surprise “On someone so…”
“On animals,” Prada said. “And I waited for portals, I waited for negative signs. So far, though, all is well.”
“Well,” Desmond's mouth twitched as he glanced at Nathaniel. “What a skill.”
“I think she can teach it,” Nathaniel said. “She's trying. But it could be that we've beaten death once and for all.”
“Let's focus on the task at hand,” Desmond said, pointing toward the room where Devon was held.
Prada squared her jaw, switching her focus.
“I need you to stay back ,though,” she said, as she advanced forward. “Just in case something goes wrong.”
“I thought that you did this before?” Nathaniel asked her.
“On birds,” Prada protested, and Desmond's confidence was shattered again.
Nathaniel stayed back at the door, watching his former Tiro as she approached Devon's body on the bed.
“She's doing well?” Desmond asked Nathaniel, who nodded.
“She is. But she's still…she's still reaching out, still second guessing herself. That will go away, I think.”
Desmond smiled, looking at Nathaniel.
“To a point,” he said. “Sometimes they still burst into your school room and eat the breakfast that you cook for yourself when they are still adults.”
Nathaniel smiled. “Point taken,” he said. “But she's going to be all right, I think.”
“She will,” Desmond said. “Nature does not make mistakes.”
“No,” Nathaniel said. “Nature does not.”
Watching Prada was almost memorizing, the way she moved forward, assessing the magic in the air, assessing the life force that was still left. She would have to make sure that she pushed and pulled at exactly the right moment, and she would have to close a portal as quickly as she opened it. She was focused as she put her hands on Devon's mechanically moving chest, closing her eyes.
“Prada!” Nathaniel suddenly said. “There's no danger that you—”
“No,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I'll be fine. I'm strong.”
“Ground yourself,” he said. “Reach out if you need to hep. Channel us.”
“Nathaniel,” she turned to him. “This isn't any scarier than any war we've seen. I'm all right.”
“You are,” he said. When he started training Prada, he had no idea where it would go. But now, he couldn't be more proud.
Prada drew the magic into her palms, reaching from sources that Nathaniel couldn't even try to feel. Prada was so strong, but she had needed to learn to stand alone.
“Oh boy,” Prada said under her breath, as she felt how far gone Devon was. There was very little life force left, and she wasn't sure she would be able to pull it forward.
Different path, came ringing through her ears as she tried and tried again. Everyone has a different path. Devon. Devon. Devon I know your girlfriend.
There was no answer, and she sighed, gritting her teeth.
Of all the things that she had been through, she didn't want this to be the one she failed.
Sienna is alone right now, she tried again.
There was no answer, and she growled, looking up at Nathaniel. He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Just…patience,” Prada said, and closed her eyes again.
Devon, Prada said. I'm a witch. I'm the witch Sienna was supposed to be. Come back and with the woman she is now.
She felt a stirring of life and she pulled harder.
Devon, she called again. Come back.
She felt a jolt and her eyes flew open.
“Oh,” she said, stumbling back slightly. Nathaniel moved forward.
“It's okay,” Prada said, leaning against the wall. “It's okay. Just wait.”
“I don't see any change,” Nathaniel said and she rolled her eyes.
“Do you know how hard that is? Give him a moment. He was dead, by the way.”
“He was clinically…”
“He was dead,” Prada said, looking him in the eye. “But I don't think death matters anymore.”
As if on cue, Devon took a huge breath, choking on the tube down his throat.
“Can I get some help?” Nathaniel called down the hall to a nurse, half in shock as Devon's vital signs rose. A few nurses rushed in, and Nathaniel stepped back, his jaw open.
“Prada…” he said, as De
von's eyes opened, and there was clarity in them. “Thank you.”
She looked at him like it was obvious
“Of course,” she said.
“Not of course,” he said. “Before this quest…”
“Before this quest I had a dark soul?” she asked. “I would not help others?”
“Before this quest, you were afraid,” he said, softly. “And now, you are not. You are brave. You didn't let fear rule your life and that is what I am the most proud of.”
“Not passing the tests?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “Seeing you speak to someone else, seeing you stand on your own, that is where your challenge was.”
“We each have a different path,” she said softly. “This was mine.”
“I'm going to go and get her,” Desmond said, tapping Nathaniel on the shoulder. “All right?”
“Looks like it,” Desmond said. “I think you've done it, Prada. And maybe one day, you can teach us.”
“I was actually thinking.” Prada brushed her hair out of her eyes. “That I might be able to teach Sienna how to use other people's magic instead of her own. That's what this is, after all, pulling rather than pushing. If it never enters her bod, it would be fine.”
Nathaniel's jaw fell open.
“Really?”
“I don't know for sure,” Prada said. “But I think I could try.”
Nathaniel couldn't believe it. But if anyone could do it, it was Prada.
They had come so far from the Tiro that hated Sienna, that hated the world.
They had to go through a war and pain, death, for Prada to find her place, but she had found it and grown so much.
Sienna coming to the door was the trifecta Supported by Desmond, her eyes lit up when she saw Devon sitting up, without breathing tubes, without monitors The nurses had barely stepped back when Sienna grabbed his hand.
“Devon? Devon, are you all right?”
His voice was raspy, but he managed to get some words out before taking a breath. “Sienna, my love. Are you all right?”
“Oh, Creator!” She collapsed in tears, crawling into the bed beside him.
“Ironic that we spent half our lives pulling them apart,” Desmond said and Nathaniel smiled.
“And now we have our own loves,” he said, as Eliza came to the door. Her hand was on her mouth, and she smiled at Nathaniel.
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