Oriana's Eyes

  I look around the room helplessly. Would it matter if I’d never decided to find Lenora? Was I destined to end up in this room? If I had never left the Great Oak on my own, I would still be there living a fantasy. At least now I know the truth. That Odon is too powerful to defeat. He has taken over my mind. He has probably already destroyed the Great Oak, and if they’ve managed to survive, he is already aware of Dorian’s arrival tomorrow. How can we possibly win? I’m useless to them now, and if anything, I’ve caused them even more grief. Now that I’m to become an Odonian, I will most likely lose all consciousness of who I was and any memory of the past. Why even worry about what is to become of the others? There’s nothing I can do to help them now.

  I immediately shake my head. Giving up is not an option. Not when all my friends are involved, not when Dorian is. At one time I might have been satisfied with letting Odon think for me, but not anymore. I have fought his powers once. I owe it to the others to keep trying. Tomorrow is the Rebirth, which means that Dorian will soon gain his powers. Maybe my situation is not completely hopeless. It could be beneficial for them to have an ally on the inside.

  But Odon wouldn’t be that foolish; he’s too intelligent for that. If he believes I’m a possible threat, he won’t take any chances. Is he keeping me near to watch me closer? Is he planning to use me as Dorian’s weakness? Or maybe I have an advantage that he isn’t aware of … or he is aware but he doesn’t want me to know it!

  I bury my face in my hands, and my head begins to hurt. What if Odon is listening to all my thoughts? Hearing me slowly drive myself crazy? He doesn’t have to do anything at all. I will simply sit here, fueling my own insanity in this empty white room.

  I get up again and walk toward the windows to distract my mind. It is nearly dark, this last day until the Rebirth. Tomorrow can start a new life—or end many. Meanwhile I remain here, unable to be with Dorian. He must be so afraid, and I won’t even have the chance to see him one last time before he turns into someone else. Will I even know him after his transformation? Odon believes Dorian will become like all the other half-bloods, and why shouldn’t he? Why should he be any different than the others, full of expectations and a flood of unruly emotions? That doesn’t make him evil; Kadin was never evil. But is he capable of handling a sudden burst of power? I have no idea, or maybe I refuse to believe he isn’t.

  I wonder for a moment if maybe Odon was different at one point. He must’ve had a mother, a father, perhaps siblings. He was once a young man just like Dorian, and then in one moment, of one day in his life, an incredible burden was thrust upon him, and it changed him forever. Now all he has as company are the mindless subjects around him. Granted, he has a conscience, and he has the ability to change his situation. But perhaps his story runs deeper than I had assumed. Maybe Odon has his reasons for being who he is. I remember what Falda said, how the purebloods sent the half-blood children away and how this created hatred and caused the half-bloods to use their powers negatively. In a way, my own people have brought this upon themselves. It doesn’t mean we should continue to suffer for it, but there is some justice to the situation.

  I turn around suddenly as the door opens and Odon enters. I see him in a new light, no longer a tyrant, but a man. Someone who was once a child, someone who has his own emotions. Someone who can make mistakes.

  “Why are you looking at me that way?” he snaps. He moves quickly around the room, pacing back and forth. Is he nervous? Has something gone wrong?

  I blink, changing my expression to nonchalance. “What has you so troubled?” I ask, attempting to sound casual in hopes he will confess.

  He stops, “Troubled? What would I have to be troubled about!?” He laughs as though it is ridiculous. “Child, I am Odon, these are my lands, my people!! I control it all!” Odon grasps the air in his hands. “So what would trouble me?”

  Suddenly Odon seems unstable, someone possessing too much power, too many emotions. Something has caused him to lose control, unbalance his plans. “You tell me. I know something has happened … the Great Oak!” I shout before clamping a hand over my mouth.

  Odon turns on me with fury. “What about it, girl? You think you know everything? What about it?!”

  “Nothing … I don’t know,” I look around for some kind of support but fall backward against the window with a thump.

  “Your Great Oak is gone! Do you hear me?” Odon raises a finger at me, and I’m unable to move. My body goes numb. He doesn’t even allow me to breathe as he takes over my mind. “Whatever you told that half-blood was pointless! It didn’t save them. It’s gone. All of it!”

  I stare at him, screaming inside but unable to show it and feeling as though I might faint.

  Odon’s hand lowers, and I fall to my knees, gasping for air. He watches me fight for composure. Is he waiting for my answer? I realize Dorian and I have really spoken to one another. That is what Odon is angry about! I was able to contact Dorian before Odon could do any real damage. If this is something Odon was not expecting, then maybe I really do have some kind of an advantage.

  Finally I turn to him. “So I’ve surprised you?!” I allow myself a laugh. I, Oriana, have made Odon nervous! “Mighty Odon’s plans were ruined by a Winglet girl!”

  He speaks with a clenched jaw. “You realize you are making this worse for yourself.”

  “I might as well enjoy this moment then!”

  Odon calms, which causes me to falter; his mind is working. “I think I’ll have to pay more attention to you. If you are such a threat, perhaps it’d be better to keep a closer eye on you.”

  “But …” I suddenly feel light-headed. I take a step toward him, trying to think of something useful, something that will make him change his mind. I already know it’s hopeless. I have given him the perfect reason to be suspicious of me. I can’t take back what was already said. Instead I redirect the conversation, “Is it true that I’m an Odonian?”

  At this Odon’s eyebrows rise, yet he seems pleased. “You will be, at the Rebirth when all purebloods are in their weakened state.”

  “Weakened state? You mean because of the transformation.”

  He nods. “Yes, yes.” He waves a hand impatiently. “I don’t have time for your petty questions.”

  “At least I still have a mind to ask them. I deserve to know what you plan to do with me!”

  “You continue to raise your voice when you know I have no problem taking more of your freedom away.” Odon crosses his arms and begins to walk toward me. “Then again, if you prefer to sacrifice your mind to me sooner, I won’t be the one to stop you.”

  I stand my ground, glaring at him in fury, which only seems to make his smirk broaden. He takes me by the wrist. I try to pull away but he holds me still, drawing back the hair on the side of my neck and running his fingers across the scar where I was injected. I flinch at the remaining soreness.

  “What is it? What did you put in my neck?”

  Odon turns his gaze to my eyes, staring down at me tenderly. “A sliver of stone. It will help me concentrate my energy.”

  “Why stone …?”

  This is something Odon is willing to answer. “Every half-blood is different. We each use some natural item to focus our powers.” He drops my wrist, recrosses his arms, and turns to stare out the window. “For myself, this stone is most sensitive. In one aspect it is white, a powerful color,”

  “And secondly?”

  “A stone maintains its own coldness; it does not take on the temperature of its surroundings,” he explains evenly.

  These descriptions bring more clarity to the University as well as my recent experiences. Even now I feel his icy grip within my skull. If white is what Odon uses to concentrate energy, then it is obviously the reason why the University is flooded with it. The cold floors and metal are ways for Odon to make his power grow.

  “You say that every half-blood is different. Then how did you figure out your individual source?” I ask, hoping that his answer may be of help wh
en Dorian transforms.

  Odon smiles. “It takes time, a half-blood does not simply figure it out. It develops, and slowly becomes clear as the power refines itself.”

  “Does that mean all half-bloods have different powers?”

  “No, but there are different ways of using them.” Odon pivots on his feet. “That’s enough discussion for one night. Besides, by tomorrow this will all be insignificant to you, as it currently is for me now.” He chuckles to himself. “Sleep well,” he adds sarcastically over his shoulder. “Tomorrow is your big day.”

  The door shuts behind him, and I lethargically move toward the center of the cushions. I’m not tired. There is too much on my mind. Are the others all right? Has the Great Oak really burned down as Odon said? Is Dorian alive? I wonder for a moment whether I might be able to contact Dorian again in my sleep. Then I’d be able to find the answers to all my questions.

  I recall Odon’s words. He threatened to watch me more closely. If he means it, then it probably would be best if Dorian kept his distance from my mind. Odon is still the one in control for now.

  The lights above have dimmed considerably. In a few minutes they will be completely out. I will be left in blackness. It won’t make any difference. I already feel as though I’ve been left in the dark. I sigh, knowing this whole situation is my own fault. Falda warned me of taking too many responsibilities at once. Now not only have I ruined the plans for the Rebirth tomorrow, but Aurek is dead.

  I struggle with the memory. It seems so unreal. As though it was some terrible nightmare. But I know it’s true: Aurek is dead, and that too is my fault.

  I slump into a ball, hugging myself tightly. It’s true. I had a strong dislike for Aurek that intensified into pure contempt. I even thought of his absence favorably, but did I wish for his death? Odon said he deserved what he got, and for a moment I agreed with him. I thought, after everything that Aurek had done to me, after what he had tried to do there in the garden, maybe his fate was in fact fairly granted. But I know better. I realize more strongly than ever that his death has not made me happier. Contrarily, I feel worse. Aurek was unaware of the wrongs he had done. The University had made that happen. This whole system has changed everyone, so how could I completely blame Aurek for his actions? Maybe, if he had only been able to witness life outside this place, he would have been different. There is no way of knowing that now.

  Perhaps in some way, his death has made something more clear. I understand why Kadin did what he did, but more importantly, I understand why Odon must not die. Why Dorian must not kill him.

  Kadin’s hatred for Odon overwhelmed him so much that he turned on his own friends. He was so bent on killing Odon that he couldn’t see what was really important. Odon’s death would not change the past. It would not bring loved ones back. It would only mean becoming like all the other half-bloods, letting their emotions make their decisions for them. We cannot expect to win against them if we become them. We cannot fight death with death. I didn’t intend to kill Aurek, yet I hold it as my own mistake, something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. If I ever believed his death would alleviate my own pain, I know now it is false. Yet Dorian doesn’t see this.

  Dorian doesn’t know of the failed attempt. He has never heard of Kadin and all that was lost. I owe it to Dorian to use this experience, this knowledge, to keep him from remaking the mistakes of the past, from seeking revenge. It’s not in our hands to become gods, to decide who deserves to live or die. If Dorian cannot see the danger in this, then I must make him see. Otherwise he is destined to become his enemy.

  In the dying illumination of the lamps, I reach once more for Narena’s journal, flipping through the pages until I come across the significant passage, “if ever you should stray, your only way back is through the eyes of the one who truly loves you.” Although it’s meaning I cannot completely fathom yet, I reread the passage until I can see the words fully when I close my eyes. By then the lights have gone, and I settle further backward.

  Tomorrow is the beginning and the end. Tomorrow we will all be tested, our strengths, our weaknesses, our greatest fears. I must not give in to Odon’s powers. I must not lose myself. I am Oriana, I am a pureblood, a Winglet, and a daughter of the Great Oak. I sift through the memories of what I believe makes me who I am as I slowly slip into sleep. I am Oriana, pureblood, Winglet, daughter of the Great Oak …

  That night I dream of flying beneath the stars, a pair of iridescent wings upon my back as I ascend through the endless expanse. I force them downward, feeling the air currents attempt to alter my course. At first I fight their advancement; soon tiring against their endless onslaught. Then I change my approach, embracing the wind instead of opposing it. Altering instead the angles of my wings so that their arcs break smoothly through the air. Ahead I see the horizon where the moon reflects on the surface of the ocean, still just a line of silver magnificence. I fly onward, my focus centered on reaching the mystery before me. Although the ground passes swiftly below, the distance remains the same, and the slice of ocean remains always at the far edge of the land.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The morning comes, oblivious to the destiny of the day it brings. I wake, my dream falling away and the reality overcoming me at once. I find Narena’s journal lying next to me, and I slip it back into the pocket within my white robes. My body feels heavy as I get to my feet, smoothing out my skirts absentmindedly.

  I wonder what Dorian and the others are doing. Are they already awake? Are they heading here now? I walk to the window and look out into the forest. Wherever they are, let them be safe and protected.

  In the distant sky I notice movement. Odon’s Winglarions, and they are heading toward the University. I watch them approach, spread in an arc across the sky. There is no joy in their flight. It is merely an ordered movement, a mundane part of life. Perhaps today will change that. If not, I will become one of them, losing my identity. I take one last look at the rising sun striking the treetops.

  Behind me someone enters the room. I turn to find an Odonian I haven’t seen before, despite my difficulty in telling them apart. This one is a woman, and I look closely into her soulless eyes, the eyes that reflect my potential state.

  “Odon wishes you to attend the Rebirth,” she says in a monotone voice.

  I sigh, partially grateful to see Dorian and the others, but afraid to witness the final outcome of the battle. I know I must be there, whether Odon realizes it or not. I now understand why my presence will change the outcome of this event. I know what I must tell Dorian.

  As soon as I step into the hallway, I realize I have left my sandals within, and the smooth floor makes my toes go numb. The Odonian leads me through a series of hallways that I am unfamiliar with. I think for a moment of escaping, hoping that if I can lose the Odonian, I might somehow find my way through the hallways. Yet the moment my mind tries to focus on stepping away, I am unable to move or even think.

  “Odon …” He is watching me, somewhere else, but still able to see me clearly by some vision beyond the restrictions of his eyes.

  The Odonian leads me down a spiraling staircase, each white step glistening beneath the lights. At the base of the stairs, the Odonian quickens her pace down the hallway, stopping abruptly at a set of double doors.

  She opens the doors and reveals an enormous domed auditorium. At its center is a large circular platform, which is surrounded by rows of seats radiating outward around the entire room. They are empty, but I can presume who is meant to occupy them. I am amazed that I’ve never seen such a large room located within the University. My gaze moves upward along the globe ceiling to its highest point where there is an opening to the azure sky.

  The Odonian explains nothing as she leads me down the slope of an aisle through the seats. We reach the center platform, where she motions for me to climb a short stairway to the top. I halt for a moment, looking up at the elevated stage. The sun strikes its surface, sending a beam of light upward and through the ceil
ing’s opening. The Odonian motions again, and I climb the stairs, unsure what awaits me. Is this where I am to see the Rebirth? The steps are even colder beneath my bare feet than the hallway. Odon’s power must be strong here.

  I reach the top, the platform’s surface quite cold despite the brilliance of the sunlight. I look out around me, shading my eyes until they have somewhat adapted to the glare. In all directions are the seats; clusters of them separated by inclining aisles that lead to sets of double doors like the one through which I entered. Everything is white, the seats a smooth metal, all meant to concentrate Odon’s power in this single location, the platform I am standing on.

  I walk along the edge, noticing that the Odonian has disappeared up the walkway. It is then that my knees give out and I topple to the ground, striking the hard surface and unable to get to my feet again. It is as if I am stuck to the floor, as though a weight holds me here. I clench my teeth, again feeling the frustration of losing control of my own body.

  It is then that a commanding voice echos around me, “All upperclassmen will now be led by the Odonians to the Rebirth,” it rumbles from above. I now recognize it to be Odon himself speaking. Then it occurs to me: Was the voice within the room or within my head? Has Odon been communicating to us all through our minds without us knowing? It does not emit from some visible device.

  The doorways open at all ends of the circular room, and students pour into the auditorium. Odonians lead them in lines to their seats. No questions are being asked, no comments made. They remain silent, following without protest. In one half of the room are the Winglets; the other half I see filling up with Finlets—a crowd with flowing black hair, sleek beneath the rays of sunlight, their skin of a darker tone as if in constant shadow. I now see the opposite of these two beings, one destined to live above, the other below. There are no part-bloods here. These are the two races, each in their pure state as they first began.