by K.N. Lee
I pulled it from my lips, frowning when my hair clung to them.
“The wind can be a naughty—cheeky creature,” he said, laughing. “It’s probably why I love it so much.”
A smile came to my lips. Somehow, I began to relax. It was nice to have someone to talk to after spending my first afternoon and evening in my new bedroom.
“Why don’t you let me show you around this little island,” he said. “It has many secrets—many gifts.”
I couldn’t think of anything better.
“That would be amazing,” I said, eyes widened in excitement and awe. “I’ve been eager to explore more of it, but didn’t know where to start. Everyone around here is always so busy, and can barely look at me.”
“Ah, ’tis because you’re a rare find. The sun elf monks aren’t quite sure what to think of you.”
My cheeks flushed. “So, I’ve heard.”
“Good,” he said, motioning for me to follow. “Walk with me through the grove. Best we stay away from the temple. The monks are busy with preparation for the ceremony.”
“Are you a monk?” I asked.
“No,” he said, with a finality that signaled he didn’t want to elaborate.
I didn’t push the subject, but resolved to find out more about him gradually. His presence was calming, and lowered my guard.
Miklaus led me away from the path, and the scent of flowers wafted upward from scattered plots of dandelions and lavender.
Once we were away from the main temple, we walked down to a rocky slope that led downward to a grassy grove.
He leaped down, and reached for my hands.
“I’ll help you,” he said, and I accepted, placing my hands into his.
Once I was down the slope and standing by his side, he took off his slippers.
“Take off your shoes.”
“Why?”
He grinned, stepping forward. “To feel the life-force of this island. You will never connect with it without truly feeling it. It has a voice. It has a soul.”
Kicking off my shoes, I glanced over my shoulder. I feared Ocura Maga would arrive and whisk me away, or scrutinize my being alone with a man.
No one was there, just me and the handsome elf encouraging me to discover.
Discovery was all I ever wanted. Truth and freedom.
Once the soles of my feet were flat against the grass, I marveled at the feel of it beneath my feet. It was cool, and comforting, and more delightful than anything I’d felt.
“Just embrace the feel of the blades of grass, and drops of dew,” he said. “It’s unlike anything you will ever feel down in Veruth. This is real. This grows from the island like hair from your scalp. Pure. Nourishing. Peaceful.”
He was right. I’d never felt grass like that. It didn’t grow in the Lower East End, and when I’d seen a tiny patch in one of the mid-levels, I’d been overcome with curiosity. I now knew that what they used in Veruth was artificial.
Fake.
He sat on the grass, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes.
“Sit with me.”
I sat down, and watched him, curious.
From the way he tilted his head, and his pointed ears perked up, I could tell he was listening.
“Do you hear that?” he asked, quietly.
I looked around, wondering what he’d heard.
“No,” I said. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Close you eyes,” he said. “Listen with your heart.”
His words surprised me, but resonated on a different level than I’d expected. I closed my eyes, and focused on the faint sounds I could pick up with my human ears. First, it was just the sounds of my breaths, and the hum of the wind. I could hear bees buzzing somewhere not far off, and trickling water.
It was lovely, and soothing.
“You’re not truly listening,” he said. “Listen with your heart.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but tried harder.
He began to sing—words I didn’t recognize—in a language I’d never heard.
As he did so, something happened to me. I gasped, and my arms shot out as I tried to find something—anything to grasp. I felt as though I was falling—that the world was slipping away.
That’s when I heard it.
The voice of the mountain. The song of the island.
Though I didn’t know what it said, I could hear it in my bones. It spoke to me on a soul level, and filled me with such beauty and light, that I could barely take it. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry.
The magical waves of energy swirled and flowed through the air, and with my eyes closed…
…I could see it.
“I knew you were special.”
“I see color, and lights,” I said, looking out through the backs of my eyelids at the sparks and wavering paths of color.
“What you’re seeing is raw energy. The magic of the island.”
“Can’t everyone see it?”
“No,” he said, laughing. “You can, because you have the power to tempt it—to use it against the Dark.”
“But, I thought I was somehow connected with it?”
“That’s what they want you to think, Ava.”
Once I opened my eyes, my cheeks were wet with tears.
Miklaus was standing before me. He reached down, a knowing smile on his face.
I reached for him, and wiped my cheeks.
“What was all of that?” I asked, as he pulled me up to my feet.
He held my hand within his, and leaned forward.
“That was your first lesson,” he said. “A lesson that will combat whatever darkness Ocura will teach. Remember. The light always wins, for it is the strongest force in any universe.”
My heart raced, and my eyes widened with realization.
Not all was as it seemed.
Not here—not anywhere.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Evening came, and I my nerves had me on edge.
I dined alone, behind the dining hall where the monks had their meal, but could barely eat more than a few bites of bread and fruit.
Something about what Miklaus had said, left me frightened.
Was Ocura Maga looking out for my best interests? Or, was I merely a toy?
The questions made me ill, and when she came for me, she didn’t care to ask why my face was pale, my hands clammy, and sweat beaded on my forehead.
Instead, she stood me up, and slapped me.
The strike to my face stunned me into absolute shock and silence. I stared at her, dumbfounded.
“What was that for?” I dared to ask.
She stepped back, her robes billowing out, and held her staff out toward me.
“I’ve heard rumors of you conversing with a man. Who was it?”
My blood ran cold and I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “No one here talks to me. When you’re asleep I am left utterly alone.”
She stared at me, with a critical look in her eyes. They glowed in the moonlight.
I tilted my head upward, ignoring the sting of her slap. I would never betray Miklaus. He was my salvation in this confusing place.
She nodded, acquiescing. “Very well,” she said. “It must have been a misunderstanding. The monks here are daft, anyway. I shouldn’t have trusted their word before asking you.”
I didn’t reply. I was still wounded that she would hurt me.
I hadn’t been hit since the taskmaster at The Wall.
Was she just another taskmaster, a beautiful one with a false tongue?
“Am I not allowed to speak to the monks here?”
Shaking her head, she rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “No,” she said. “They are only a distraction. Keep away from them, and spend your free hours practicing what I’ve taught you.”
I nodded. “Very well. I can do that,” I said, though I had no intention.
She sat on the ground, and looked up at me. “Show me what I taught you last night.”
I tensed, but obeyed.
Anxiety rose within my throat for what I had to do.
Though I didn’t want to, I knew she was more powerful than me, and that I truly had no choice.
With a heavy heart and bubbling gut, I kicked off my shoes, and stepped onto the grass.
I ground my toes and heel into the dirt and inhaled.
“Good girl,” she said, as I followed the steps she’d been teaching me since I arrived at the Sky Keep.
I closed my eyes, outstretched my arms, and commanded my power to rise.
It came from my feet, seeping up from the dirt, and dancing its way up my muscles and veins.
The moonlight bathed me with power and energy, and a tingling sensation prickled my flesh.
“I call to sacred moon magic to fill me,” I whispered into the night.
It came fast, and hard, and slammed into me like a jolt of lightning.
Did Ocura Maga know of the pain, and intensity?
She claimed it would get easier, but I dreaded the merging of power.
She clapped, and I opened my eyes.
Her eyes were wide with wonder, and she slowly came to her feet.
“Good girl,” she repeated.
I looked down at her from a few feet off the ground. I hovered, like a bird, and my skin glowed like a bright star. I was full of light, and yet something didn’t feel quite right.
It could have been the pain of my body morphing.
Or, the fact that I’d become a shell of myself, a ghostly figure with black wings.
What was she turning me into?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sleep didn’t come for me. I’d stayed up most of the night, trying to shed the feeling of my second form from me.
It wasn’t until I stepped outside with the rising of the sun that my stomach settled, and fear subsided.
“Morning, Sunshine,” Miklaus said, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I ran to him, overwhelmed with happiness.
He hugged me, and gave me a soft kiss on the top of my head.
“Thank the spirits you’re here,” I said, into his chest.
He chuckled. “I’ll always be here for you.”
“Promise?”
He tilted my chin, but there was a sadness in his eyes. He nodded, but didn’t reply.
It was fine. His nod was enough. I’d become more excited about our daily lessons than Ocura Maga’s grueling, nightly teachings.
He reached for my hand, a smile on his face. “I wanted to show you something today.”
“What is that?” I asked, and we walked the grassy area behind my hut.
“Today, we move onto living energy.”
“Oh,” I said, brows lifting. “That sounds like fun.”
“It shall be.”
“What kind of living spirit?” I asked, as we crossed a bubbling brook, stepping on partially raised stones to keep our slippers from getting cold and wet with the fresh water that trickled along.
He gave my hand a squeeze and his smile widened.
“Wyverns.”
I gasped, and nearly jumped with anticipation. Quickening my step, I looked ahead, anxious to see the beasts I’d always wanted to get a closer look at.
From the top of The Wall, I’d seen them circle the kingdom and dart through the sky. Other than the one that knocked me nearly to my death, I’d never been close to one.
Now, I’d have a chance to see one up close—to possibly touch one.
He chuckled, keeping pace. “Slow down, little one. We will get there. Let’s not rush.”
That was easy for him to say. He’d probably met many wyverns, and knew them by name. I wanted to spend as much time with them as I could before Ocura Maga awakened.
The thought of her nearly drained me of my joy. Dread filled my veins, and Miklaus paused.
He must have felt it.
He felt everything—knew everything.
His brows furrowed as he turned me to face him, and searched my eyes.
“What is it, Ava? Has something happened?”
I shook my head, biting my bottom lip. For a moment, I couldn’t meet his gaze. He knew too much. He’d see right through me if I looked directly at him.
Then, he held his palm in front of my face, closed his eyes, and ran it down toward my belly. When his eyes opened, his expression turned sour.
“She hurt you,” he said, with certainty.
Sighing, I nodded. With a shrug, I tried to pull away from him. Instead of letting me run away, he embraced me.
There was such love and calming energy that I was taken aback—nearly choking on emotion.
How could anyone have such pure goodness within them that it seeped into one’s soul with just a touch?
Miklaus was special, and as he held me close, I never wanted him to let go. His presence and aura was like a gift from the gods—and unlike anything I’d ever felt.
“She can only hurt you as much as you let her,” he said, smoothing my hair. “Stand before her, claiming love and the Light, and you will be stronger than anyone who dares step into your path. I promise you that, Ava.”
I looked up at him, through a veil of tears—tears of joy, and knew within my soul that what he said was true. The Light felt like home, where the Dark was like a nightmare that threatened to hold me down and never let go. There was power in darkness, like Ocura Maga said.
Great power.
But, there was something more—something I didn’t want to truly see.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s get to the lesson while we still have sunlight.”
I nodded, wiping my tears away, and we crossed the grove to head to the tower where the wyverns were kept, cleaned, fed, and cared for.
I nearly giggled like a child at the first sight of them, walking the meadow. Their presence was majestic, like royalty unlike the sun elves had ever known.
How they’d become pets to mortals was unbeknownst to me.
Miklaus outstretched his arms, and looked back at me.
“Welcome to Wyvern Valley,” he said. “Take a look, but don’t touch. If you remember what I taught you, you don’t have to touch to truly feel. You simply have to command your field of energy, and explore what crosses into it.”
I nodded, barely listening. There were wyverns of all different colors; black, and red, brown, and a shy golden one who lay on the grass, watching me with big eyes.
That one—it called to me.
“Whoa, now, Ava,” Miklaus said. “Be careful near that one. It’s the queen. All wyvern eggs come from her. She might be a bit aggressive if she’s keeping her eggs warm.”
It made sense. She was huge, but slender, and the other wyverns crowded around her as I approached.
Nonetheless, my feet kept bringing me closer, and a magnetic pull I couldn’t break free from insisted on uniting us like long lost kin.
“Ava,” he called again, a little forcefully.
It was too late. The wyverns made a path for me, and before he could grab me, and pull me away, I was right before her.
Face-to-face.
“Ava!”
My breath was stolen the moment I touched the beast. Its heart and soul vibrated and made itself known to me.
“Remarkable,” I said, catching my breath.
“Indeed,” the wyvern said, and knelt its head to touch mine.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I turned to look at Miklaus.
He stared at me, face pale, jaw slack.
As the wyverns all lowered themselves to the ground, his brows lifted and he clasped his hands in applause.
Slowly—gradually—his smile returned, and he looked at me.
“Ava,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t think you know what this means.”
I tilted my head, curious. The beast’s energy pulsed and called out to me. It was all strength, and courage, and motherly love.
“What is that?” I called out to him.
He raked a hand through hi
s hair and his hands fell to his sides.
“I don’t even know what this means,” he said. “But, I can find out.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
K E M
Mother stood inside the doorway, but it was the back door that I slipped in through. For a moment, I waited in the dark, watching her graying hair waver in the soft breeze outside.
She wore pale blue, faded from years of washings. A gray scarf was wrapped around her hair, with curly tresses spilling from above.
I leaned against the wall, heart aching for what I’d done. I’d left her when she needed me—when father had died—and abandoned my sister and brother. She turned away the money I sent, but I did my best to care for them. I paid the landlord directly, and made sure my family had a roof over their head.
Her shoulders slumped and she stepped inside to close the door. When she turned to face me, the paleness of her cheeks was filled with color, and she covered her mouth with a frail hand as our eyes met.
Tears pooled within her eyes, and she breathed in a sigh.
“Kem?”
A crooked smile came to my lips as I watched her cheeks fill with color and hope re-entered her eyes.
“Yes, Ma,” I said, and crossed the space between us. I took her into my arms and spun her around.
She held on tight to my neck, and when I placed her back down, she sobbed into my chest. Then, she lifted her head, and smiled through tears. She took my face into my hands and searched my eyes.
“My boy,” she said. “You’ve come home.”
I nodded, and fought back tears of my own.
Ford walked in right then. He caught one look at me, and quickly closed the door.
“Kem,” he said, in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
I raked a hand through my choppy, black hair and took a seat in the closet chair that was around the small table.
“I wanted to let you know something,” I said, and they both sat at the table with me, waiting for me to continue. With a sigh, I folded my hands and stared down at them. “I am going to do something risky—something that might get me killed.”
Mother coiled back, horror in her eyes. She wiped tears away and clenched her jaw. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Whatever you are planning to do—don’t do it. I cannot lose another one of you. I simply cannot.”