by Kade Cook
The fire hisses and slithers from the cauldron in strands of dark Magik and snakes across the marble floor. The heavy scent of death and darkness pulls at Gabrian’s sense as the thing slithers closely by on its way back to him. Strange memories entangle her mind, images of misty shorelines and beautiful undefined faces dance in the back of her eyes. Rhada’s yellow eyes send prickles of knowing across her newly healed skin—this Magik she knows all too well.
A loud snap brings Gabrian back to life, refocusing her eyes to the present as the dark Magik curls upward, funneling like a serpent eager to return to its bidding master, and around his awaiting fingers. He turns his palms toward the hissing entity and it swoons toward his hand, coiling wildly around his lowered arm, and bleeding into his bare white flesh.
As the Magik is retrieved, and the Elder steps from the glow—his moment in the circle—the room dims. All is cast into shadows as the light of all entities dies out. Standing in hushed silence, blending in with the darkness, Gabrian becomes awkwardly aware that all eyes are on her. The unknown expectation of her attendance suddenly is brought back to the forefront and the weight of this elephant in the room weighs heavy on her.
“Gabrian, dear,” Vaeda’s gentle hum of her name cuts through Gabrian’s head like a knitting needle to the brain. “If you will step forward and take your place within the circle?”
Gabrian’s face flushes, the prickle of stress biting at the rawness of her severed nerves is horrible. The rush of familiar defences she often wears is back, fingers searing beneath her folded hands. Longing for the comfort of Shane’s arms, his soft words, his ability to sooth the rumbling of her uncertainties, Gabrian inhales and does as she is told. Shane cannot help her. No one can. Not even Uncle Ty. He was in on it.
Her mind rushes in its silence, trying to focus and stay upright as the world sways strangely to the right. Why is my life always like this?
Mumbling sounds burble around her. Not able to make out any of the words, her face contorts, and everything starts to swirl. Her mind clutches at anything to keep her steady. The Elders should have told her, explained to her why she is here instead of putting on a ruse. Longing for the reassured words of an old friend, she listens intently. Searching within the silence, she scans the edges for any trace of comfort. Echoes of memorized words dance in the halls like ghosts.
Their shape is soft and warm, wanting so badly for them to be real. Then like a dream, the whispered hushes harden. The sound is weak but it is definitely there and her mind rushes toward it, clasping to grab hold with all her conviction. She needs this, however hypocritical it may seem. She pulls at the Magik with her entirety—pulling, fighting for it to be real.
And the sound comes like a rumbling riot, but to her, it sounds like a choir of chanting angels whispering sweet surrender as it gathers all around her. A curse, a gift, caught somewhere in between, she does not care either way, and welcomes it home. And with it comes the break in the dam.
Gabrian’s head explodes with sound. Dropping to her knees, she rushes her hands to her ears. Her lids pinch closed in the bombardment of voices, images. She knows the trick of concentration and how to turn down what she does not want, but in the sudden flood, she is overwhelmed and strains to gain control over them. Compartmentalizing and riffling through all that has broken through, she seeks out the one in particular, the one she needs to get her through.
Hey, kiddo,
With wide eyes dewing at the edges, Gabrian stills. Clinging to the familiar wave of energy, she gulps down a hard breath, clearing everything else in her head away with a hard, mental push.
Ethan! she screams out at him as her mind hurries to wrap around his.
Welcome back, he hums, lending her a soothing grin.
Oh, Ethan, I have missed you in my head.
So it seems.
What is going on? I don’t understand what is happening.
Just breathe. These are the sweetest words on the planet to Gabrian right now and she lets them ring through her, releasing a bout of fear welling inside of her, and presses her deflated bitten lips into an upward curl. Her eyes close to linger on the sound of his voice. She can hear all the rumbling of muttered words, the high-pitched concerns of Vaeda, but she does not care. She ignores them. Her mind is back and it wants answers—answers that Ethan has always been there to give her—and everyone will wait until she does.
Ethan lifts his hand and pats the air in Vaeda’s direction, a sign to the Zephyr Elder and the others, to give them a minute. Vaeda hums to the others the unspoken message of what is taking place and the frantic murmurs outside Gabrian and Ethan’s conversation dies down.
There is no need for worry today. For once, Gabrian, this is going to be a joyous and happy meeting that you are in attendance for.
Oh, Ethan… I, Gabrian’s bottom lip quivers.
Do you trust me?
Her mind flutters for a moment on the strangeness of his and Kaleb’s meeting in the woods but pushes it away with one breath. That was not for her eyes and holds no relevance over their relationship. You know I do.
Then I need you to get to your feet, put your chin up, and be the stubborn, determined soul I know is in there somewhere.
Gabrian opens her pressed lids and lifts from the cold stone floor. She wipes away the wetness from her eyes and peeks over her shoulder, ignoring the strange stares she is receiving from the onlookers watching her display of oddness—again—and concentrates on her friend.
Do not worry, it will be painless and enlightening for everyone here.
Painless? Enlightening? But what are they looking for? I don’t know what they want, Ethan. She bites on her nails, concentrating on her friend and ignoring all the eyes glued to her.
What am I supposed to do?
Nothing.
Her nose twists as she purses her lips and widens her eyes. What do you mean nothing?
He grins and repeats his answer. Exactly what I said, nothing.
Chapter Thirty
See What You Have Done
Standing alone, wrapped in the shadows dominating the Great Hall, Gabrian clings to the telepathic connection she has managed to rewire with Ethan. Even though cloaked in a level of darkness that hides the quiver in her lip, and the fearful wideness of her eyes from the audience behind her, she feels exposed, in the spotlight, and stares dumbfounded at empty bowls of stone.
Okay, I am on my feet, standing like an idiot in the darkness. Now what?
Ethan cannot help the grin pulling at the edges of his mouth as he gives her directions. Just relax and all the binds will find you.
What?
Relax.
Gabrian inhales, shakes the tenseness out of her arms, and flexes the stiffness out of her fingers. Closing her eyes, she tries to quiet her mind…sort of. Okay, I am relaxing now.
Gabrian, he scolds.
Ugh, how did I forget you are no fun?
Gabrian.
Fine.
Just think of this as one of your experiments and enjoy the journey. Trust me, kiddo. This will be fun.
Eyes closed, she shakes out her stinging fingers. Inside her mind, she hears everything—every question, every doubt, bits and bobbles of scattered thoughts dribbling through the souls surrounding her in surges of mixed emotions, and surprisingly, even some expressing joy. Then, as if the volume has been disconnected, everyone in the room goes still. The silence is thunderous. Only the steady thrum of her accelerated heartbeat fills the void.
A dim glow lights through the bites of electric currents from her closed lids. Curious as to what it is, she breaches the darkness, opening her eyes to a faded space, a wall coloured in shadows and an eerie glow drawing to life on the floor beneath her feet. The temperature around her drops, prickling at her skin, and the hairs on her arms raises as it creeps up the back of her neck.
Bright flashes of vaporous fires flare up one by one, filling the curved edges of the glowing circle, and wipes away the darkness with an assembly of colours�
��hues of luminescent souls scurry about, painting the darkened space with smeared light. They hum and murmur in tongues, a formed language she cannot comprehend, and then settle into position alongside the Elders, still standing statuesque along the perimeter of the semicircle behind her.
Yet, none of them turn to see the entities accompanying those who reside there today.
How peculiar, she thinks, awestruck by the spectral phenomenon taking place.
Everything around her glows and swirls in a prismatic array of light—red, green, violet, blue—they all sway, chanting in a unison voice that sings to her soul. Her eyes lower and her body shivers, absorbing a euphoric buzz that fills the space between them.
Lost somewhere in a world of unspoken understanding, rejoicing in her very existence and knowing exactly who she is, Gabrian’s tired spirit lifts from her body and dances merrily with the others frolicking, taking no heed of who is watching. Light and unhindered, she revels in the undeniable feeling of complete oneness with it all. Consumed by her soul’s restfulness, she lets go of her strings of doubt filled with the knowledge that this is home.
Her stomach plummets, spinning wildly. Her eyes rush open in the sudden silence around her, returning her abruptly to the binds of the covenant and the body now covered with gawking and wide awestricken eyes, awaiting her return. Blinking hard, trying to focus, and hearing Ethan’s voice press against her mind, she lands—the connection of her soul to her physical form intact—and turns to let her vision graze over the wall of waiting Elders.
Ever-changing streams of dancing light cascades in waves of glimmering rainbows over the row of smiling eyes and upturned lips. Gabrian’s face screws up at the goofy-looking Elders starting back at her, chittering like spring birds in their glee. What is wrong with these people?
All done. See now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?
What is all done? What in the world are you talking about?
The test. And I must say you passed with flying colours…so to speak.
What?
Ethan breaks formation of the Elders and steps toward Gabrian, her brain still stuck somewhere in neutral. Reaching out, he lays his hand on her shoulders and meets her eyes, gifting her with the warm adoring smile of an old friend. “Turn around, Gabrian, and see what you have done.”
She drops her eyes and glances over his shoulder to the stares still clinging to her every move by all those in attendance. Gentle and adoring eyes meet her as she grazes over them. Vaeda dons her with a cheeky grin, twisting her hands together, and presses them to her soft pink lips. With a lifted brow, confused by the strangeness of her Elders, Gabrian turns to face the marble wall at her back, coaxed by Ethan’s hands.
“Well done, Gabrian.”
All Gabrian can do is stare, mouth open and wide-eyed. The void of sound around her returns. The crackling of newly born fires raging wildly from within the cauldrons warms against her skin with the heat of their ferocious but loving embrace. Her eyes glaze over and her heart hammers in her ears, the world around her becoming all too vivid as her hand rises to cover her gaping mouth. Oh no, this cannot be happening.
“Our Allegiance is yours,” Ethan hums to her, dipping his stance to bow his head.
“Um, what are you doing? You are starting to freak me out, Ethan. Get up.”
Ethan remains in his dip, but his lips curl just at the edges.
“Why are you bowing? Stop that.”
In the shroud of dim shadows, her eyes take in the crowd over Ethan’s lowered shoulders. Behind her, painted by flecks of rainbow by the glow of Fellowship fires, every head in the room bows to her. She watches in horror as they all lower in waves, dropping their eyes to study the floor. “Tell them to stop doing that. What in the hell is going on?”
“It is an offering of unspoken respect. You, my young friend, are now the proud new owner of the High Table, my Silver liege.” Ethan keeps his head lowered just a bit as he unveils her prize, keeping an eye on her.
“What? No way! No,” she hisses out, biting hard at her lip. Her eyes count down the cauldrons, Egni, Isa, Hydor, Derkaz, all the way down to Eorden. The only cauldrons not ignited are the Silver one, as per norm, and Schaeduwe. “No, no, no, I am not a Silver Mage. Two Cauldrons are still empty, see! No fire, no Silver Mage hocus pocus crap. No.”
Gabrian begins a frantic march, eyeing the cauldrons, and rakes her fingernails over the top of her bristles, missing her long locks to tangle her burning fingers in. “I am a Grey. That is it, and that is all. I just got lucky. It is a fluke.”
“It is only a matter of time and a matter of training, my dear,” Vaeda hums, stepping out to gather beside Ethan. The others begin to break formation and chitter amongst themselves in broken agreement with the former head of the Table.
A soft pastel hue of green enters Gabrian’s space as Kaleb steps into the light. “And one of belief,” he offers her, wearing a sincere smile. Flecks of gold shimmer in his aura as he gazes at her with tender eyes. “One must believe in order to see the truth for what it is.
“We must begin preparations immediately as well the commencement of her training.” Vaeda begins rhyming off a list of conventions that must be put into place.
Holy crap, this is really happening.
This is worse than any torturous nightmare she could have imagined. A tsunami of panic unleashes to flood through Gabrian’s soul making her legs rubbery. Everything is numbing. Her lungs refuse to take in breath, choking her. Everything around her smears and swirls in slow motion, drowning her with the knowledge that she now owns the weight of the world.
Losing the ability to sort out their words, she no longer takes in any understanding of the chattering whirling around her, biting at the inside her ears. Her heart pounds violently against the innards of her rib cage, and her veins burn with adrenaline as it sears through her.
Instant overload. And now, cue the mental breakdown as the world around her goes to hell—again. Slumping to the ground, Gabrian sits comatose within the circle of stone that has just sealed her fate.
“Is she going to be alright?” Arramus’ low words rumble out, cautious and slow. Scratching his head, his brow twists over wide eyes that volley between Gabrian and the other Elders.
Ethan quiets his mind, dancing across the fringes of her consciousness. His pressed lips pinch up at the edges, hearing the barrage of curse words exploding and polluting her mind. Expelling a hearty chuckle, unable to hide his amusement, he reveals his findings. “Yeah, she will be just fine.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Last Time I Remembered
Stuck swirling alone in her internal muddling on the dark marble floor, Gabrian finally comes back around. The continuous chatter of plans being made for her life jabs a sharp stick into her ribs at the word confinement. Jumping to her feet, steadying her rubbery legs, she growls out to the Elders as they resolute the actions to be put in place, to be effective immediately. “Excuse me,” she interrupts, not interrupting anything at all. The conversations continue as if she is merely one of the entities floating unobserved in the Great Hall.
Hands are flying and words are spewing of a large number of Guardians to be put in place around the training area that is unexposed to the wards in place. “Wait a minute now, I don’t think—” Gabrian huffs, her words denied access once more. Watching them huddle together, auras flaring with brilliance in their excited and exhilarated state, she bites the edge of her thumb and narrows her eyes. A flush of rose covers her cheeks as her temper rises.
Having been ignored and excluded in the concerns of her life for as long as her dealings with this group has existed, Gabrian has had enough. Throwing politeness and niceties into the trash, she allows the rising frustration to have a voice. Just a bit more loudly than she had intended, she unleashes, “For frig sakes, will somebody just listen to me!”
The hush is immediate. Her final words ring out and echo across the murmuring crowds still lingering in the background—eager to catch any hint
of news and of her new status—and slaps them all hard into silence.
She wanted their attention, now she has it. All of it. Every soul under the shimmering Covenant skies above now lingers to hear her words. And Gabrian wonders if she should have just stood by, per norm, and idly listened to their gabbing before proceeding but she shirks back the alarming wave of attention. This is her life, and by George, she is going to be part of it.
“Oh, Gabrian. What is it, dear?”
“Shouldn’t I be a part of this discussion? As in, have a say as to what happens?”
They all look at each other like she has said something so completely odd that they have to decipher the meaning of it. “Yes, of course, but because of this miraculous event, many conventions and securities must transpire and be put into place. It is in your best interest that we act on all of this immediately. Most Silvers have a lifetime to cure and coddle to their powers, but you have been gifted with an abundance of power all at once at full capacity. This cannot be left unguided for everyone’s protection.”
“Am I a monster all of a sudden?”
“No, not at all.” Vaeda closes in on her and drapes a hand on her shoulder. “Completely the opposite. You are our greatest gift, and we will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety and succession in this Realm. You are our utmost priority.”
Gabrian shudders at this offering of words. What exactly this entails she is uncertain but has a bad feeling her life is about to become somewhat more difficult as if it had not been that already. “So, what exactly does that mean?”
“Well, since Cera left you surrounded by silver wards, unbreakable and bonded to your home, we have decided that this will be the perfect place of your training.”
Gabrian raises her brow, listening. “Okay…”
“And since this place is enchanted and allows no physical harm to come to you, it is the perfect holding place for you until we are confident in your ability to protect yourself from an unwanted harm.”