***
“Sevra, can you come out here for a minute please?” Yulan asked from his chair. He and Lorna already had the discussion and agreed, the Keep of the Magicus Celesti was where Sevra belonged. There she would be able to grow into the person she was destined to be. It would be safe; though he could say nothing to Lorna about the old stories of Kubathu or the recent events at the Keep, he had to make the decision to send her. It would only get worse for her at Shady Vale. The next time she called upon the spirits he might not be able to cover it up for her, or worse there could be consequences for one of the residents.
“Are you sending me away, Uncle?” Sevra asked, walking out into the living room.
He looked over to Lorna, he hadn’t been prepared to start the conversation this way. She must have heard them talking.
“Ahh, we’re not sending you anywhere you don’t want to go. We just want to talk to you,” he said.
She sat in the empty chair diagonal to him, at the edge of it, back upright and hands folded in her lap, her behavior more like a miniature adult than a child.
“When I was little, I was like you are Sevra,” Yulan began. “I want to let you know you aren’t alone just because you are different from other people you know. You and I, we have the same gift. Most people don’t even know it exists. Actually we try to keep it that way.”
“Why don’t they know about it?” Sevra asked.
“Because, it’s out of the ordinary. People tend to get scared of what they don’t understand. It’s not their fault, it’s just the way we’re made,” Yulan answered. “There’s a place I used to go, and can bring you where there are others like us. You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to. If you do want to I could come along, and stay as long as you need me. Think about it for a while, you can learn and read to your heart’s content, become whatever you want one day.”
“I don’t have to think about it, I’ll go,” Sevra said, “I don’t belong here anymore.” She glanced over to the crib for an instant.
“You always belong here, darling,” Lorna said, teary-eyed, “we’re your family and we love you.”
“I believe you,” Sevra said, again looking over to the baby, her little brother.
“I’m sorry Uncle Yuley,” she said all of the sudden.
“For what, dear?”
“For hiding for so long.”
Lorna and Yulan both blinked at Sevra’s odd response.
Yulan wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but it seemed trivial now. He could see Sevra trying to hide her sadness, distancing herself emotionally.
“Come here Sparklebug,” he said, holding his arms out. She went over to him and hopped up on his lap, laying her head into his chest and staring off towards the far wall. “We can leave in a few days.”
“No, let’s go this afternoon,” Sevra said blankly.
There were so many things Yulan wanted to say to her at that moment, but he knew Sevra liked to deal with difficult feelings in her own way. Trying to draw them out would only push her further away right now. Instead, he just rocked her back and forth in his chair for a while. She knew they cared about her, and that was good enough for him.
Diligent Pupil
This is ridiculous! Sevra thought as she attempted for the third time to reposition herself. The posture dictated by the tomes for the new meditation exercise was impossible to perfect. Bernard was going to be disappointed in her if she failed to get it right again. Pushing an errant lock of midnight hair from her brow she started once more from the beginning of the lesson.
It didn’t seem fair that one who was identified as being “naturally gifted” would have any difficulty in mastering the most basic lessons. It seemed even more of a personal slight that a “naturally gifted” person like herself should be forced to follow the same protocol as others who were tested to see if they even had the potential to be considered for training with the Magicus Celesti.
Two entire years. It had been two years since Uncle Yuley brought her here. Two years where she was not allowed to touch the spirits, and spent her days strictly on scrubbing out pots and pans, reading dusty old books on world history, and performing what should be simple meditation. She didn’t apply herself, they said. She lacked discipline they said.
“You lack discipline. Apply yourself!” Bernard’s gravelly old voice called out as if on cue, grating against her ears. He decided to take her on personally as a favor to Uncle Yuley. Some favor it turned out to be for her.
Sevra held her arms out and shook her hands to release the tension, then rolled her shoulders until she felt she was ready to try again. She leaned forward, relaxing her spine and neck so that her head gently fell forward, chin resting on her upper chest. Clearing her mind free from the distracting frustrations she continued on to the next step. Each individual muscle and vertebrae of her back stretched into a ram rod straight position, her head erect and face tilted towards the sky.
Again her meditation was thwarted by a strand of hair landing across her eye that tickled her nose. Just when she thought she was finally ready to proceed to the third part of the lesson she had to start over once more. With a sound that was part sob and part growl Sevra reached up and grabbed the offensive hair, yanking it from her scalp, then flung her body forward onto the ground. The growling sob was replaced with a muffled gulping noise as she cried into the soft patch of moss that she buried her face into. The mischievous bundle of hair that plagued her scattered and floated away as she repeatedly slapped her open palms onto the earth in front of her in the throes of her tantrum. After a time she sat up and covered her face with her hands wiping away the dirt, moss and tears.
“Are you just about through carrying on?” Bernard asked, hardly lifting his head from his morning reports.
Pulling her hands away she was momentarily shocked to see them covered in blood. She felt her forehead and quickly found the source was the patch of scalp torn away near her hairline. Looking about her she saw the last few strands of hair flying away in the wind as a drop of blood dripped from her brow onto her nose. For some reason that even Sevra did not understand, this made her smile.
“Yes Master Bernard,” she said sweetly, “I’m ready to try again now.”
She could feel how close she had come last time. That lock of hair wouldn’t distract her anymore.
Again she put her arms straight to her sides, and sitting perfectly upright she cleared out her thoughts. The spirits called out, they always did, but she ignored them with all the discipline she could muster. Bernard would know if she touched upon them, and according to him she wasn’t ready until he said so. Fear of punishment helped along with whatever self-control she could summon; two days straight of working the kitchens was not an appealing thought.
“Spirits is that blood?” Bernard asked, jumping up, suddenly alert.
Sevra’s concentration broke, her meditative state ruined. Bernard itched near his throat, adjusting a chain around his neck. She looked from him to the blood drying on her hands, softly rubbing her fingers together as she stared at it. A trickle ran down her forehead, crimson marring her delicate pale white.
“Leave here and go to the infirmary,” Bernard instructed.
“I’m fine, it was just a little scratch,” Sevra answered. It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining over the meticulously manicured grounds. The sweet scent of flowers occasionally drifted whenever a breeze passed by. And she didn’t want to admit it, but seeing the blood made her feel alive.
“Be off!” he demanded, fidgeting with his necklace, “I’ll collect you from your quarters later. Read ‘Lineage and Succession’ verses twenty-eight through thirty-two. If you still have time write a summary of them while you’re waiting.”
“Yes sir,” Sevra groaned, dragging her feet as she walked away. She could read well enough, Yuley taught her when she was little. The problem was the books Master Bernard had her reading were dreadf
ully boring.
Walking off, she wiped away the remaining drops of blood from her forehead, licking her finger to help clear off any that had dried. Her scalp started to feel slightly tender, and without thinking she reached up to brush away the lock of hair that always fell down there. Of course, having torn it away there was nothing to touch.
The halls were endless mazes of corridors, stairwells, and chambers. It was hard to believe that a building could be so big. All of Shady Vale could have fit inside the castle a hundred times over. She was still surprised by how different her life was now compared to when she was home with Uncle Yuley and Momma Lorna; each day she would have some random thought that led her back to them.
Though she missed them, she didn’t miss the village. There was a surprising lack of children within the keep, which was well to her liking. The two or three she had seen on occasion kept to themselves as much as she did. Not that there was time for any of them to socialize; she imagined they were kept at least as busy as she was with chores and study.
Crossing through a courtyard and two hallways finally landed her at the infirmary. Rows of beds lined each wall, mostly all empty. A woman in her middle years looked up as she entered, her only acknowledgement. Sevra didn’t recognize her; she had only been to the infirmary one time in her entire two years here, and last time it was a different healer that saw her. She found an empty chair and sat as the woman felt at the pulse of a sleeping man.
When she finished she walked over, offering her a mild smile that obviously took some effort.
“What can I do for you dear?” she asked. Once close enough, she saw the injury on top of Sevra’s forehead easily enough.
“Oh my, what happened to you?” she continued before Sevra could answer, “you have a chunk of skin missing.”
“I scratched myself,” Sevra lied, “on accident.”
“Mm-hmn,” was the only response as she quiety patched up her forehead.
“This will definitely scar. I hate to tell you but I don’t think your hair will grow back in this spot,” she said, after doing a thorough inspection.
Sevra frowned, agitated Bernard made her so angry that she did that to herself. She stopped thinking about it before she got angry all over again.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sevra asked, changing the subject. She noticed the man the healer was tending to hadn’t moved at all.
“Well, he’s dead for one thing. Never woke up after going downhill all morning,” she answered glumly. “Oh it’s a natural part of life, Darren here was a very old man.”
Again Sevra frowned, an uncomfortable sensation of familiarity sweeping over her. She swore she had seen this man before, but where? Before she knew it her feet were carrying her towards his bed.
“Hey! Young lady you don’t have any business going over there!” the woman scolded.
The wizard’s face was pale and slack, like the muscles could no longer hold the skin in place properly and all the blood had been drained. His jaw hung open slightly, a final scream that he didn’t have the strength to utter. Waves of a greenish hue surrounded the sick man, Sevra reached her hand forward slowly. She recognized the aura.
A hand roughly grabbing her elbow broke her from the trance, dragging her away. She continued to look back, but offered no resistance and couldn’t figure out how to get any words to come out of her mouth.
“I told you that wasn’t a place for little girls to go,” the nurse said firmly, “go on now before I track down your master and tell him you’re being a troublemaker.”
Sevra stood outside of the infirmary, the door shut behind her. She wasn’t sure what to think; she only felt confusion as she absently walked to her room.
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