by Talis Jones
“As you return to your body gently sink into your skin and reconnect with the breath cycling through your lungs and only when you are one with your physical self may you open your eyes and reflect on all that your mind has journeyed.”
Titus remained silent but watchful until his apprentice at last let out a small gasp and sat up. Sitting up as well he waited for her to speak first.
“It's dark,” she blinked in surprise. “And I'm cold.”
“It slows your blood,” he explained. Gathering a few sticks and giving the pile a flick he made a small but hearty fire. “And of course it is dark. Did you think travel does not take time?”
For once Cassandra seemed speechless and her awe brought a youthfulness to her face.
“Your magic knows the inner boundary of the Island now. We will repeat this exercise tomorrow so you can learn its outer boundary.”
“Outer boundary?” she puzzled.
“You walked the shore but you can't spend your time monitoring it or you'll be driven mad seeing as the people of Oneiroi either work or play there daily. It is important to know it but more important to monitor the outer boundary. That is the edge of this world and should remain utterly undisturbed unless it is you or I crossing on our ship.”
Cassandra's face darkened. “I see.”
“This is all larger than life at the moment because it is new, but once you've walked the boundaries you need not do it again. You can feel them within you. You will simply know. And with that awareness as your guide you can magik yourself to that place and scout out the origin of the disturbance. Contact the Whispers, warn the people, stand guard as Oneiroi's first defense.” Titus leaned over the crackling wood to hold her gaze fiercely. “You are a Guardian of Oneiroi and you must protect it. This is your calling in this second life.”
“I understand,” she vowed.
Flames dancing reflected in Cassandra's eyes as she shielded her discoveries from Titus' sharp eyes. She understood her duty, the price of the exchange she had made with the man, the Island, a lifetime ago. It was all he said and more. So much more. She'd been impressed, utterly delighted, with the small feats she'd managed under Titus' careful tutelage but her journey to the boundary did not simply gift her that, it opened her completely to the Island and in that moment she'd realized just how closed off she had been. No longer.
Even now, fully awake, she could feel the elements thrum through her veins and the control it required to keep her from testing her new limits caused sweat to bead upon her brow. Control. Patience. Out from her teacher's watchful eyes she would test herself and at last discover what potential she held in her hands. And what sort of future she might carve with it.
Chapter 8
“Titus,” Cassandra began while plucking at daisies growing amongst the lush grass of Silvanus. “Tell me more about being the Collector for Oneiroi.”
“I'm surprised you can turn your thoughts from magic for even a moment,” he chuckled.
“Well, of course that's the most exciting bit but I do understand that being your apprentice comes with a job eventually and I should probably understand a bit more of that, shouldn't I?”
“True,” he agreed soberly. “In the simplest of terms the Collector goes to the Outer World and ferries souls to Oneiroi.”
“I'm not sure if watching the world I grew up in alter over time is thrilling or terrifying,” she admitted, her fingers plucking petals off an unfortunate flower.
“Thrilling mostly,” Titus decided. “Although the more I see the more I'm glad I have Oneiroi to return to.”
“Are you?” she asked in mild surprise.
“Ja.”
“Well come on,” she prodded. “Tell me more. How do you find these souls?”
Titus settled his back against a tree and crossed his ankles, resigning himself to a lecture rather than a demonstration for the day. “Only a soul not yet an adult who agrees to come with their dying breath can be taken to the Island,” he began.
“You offered Liam passage,” she interjected, instantly chiding herself for bringing up a past life.
“Technically any who find the Island can touch its shores but as the Collector only the dying young are brought aboard the ship, ja?” He eyed her sharply waiting for her to confirm that she understood this important clause.
“Yes,” she answered a bit tartly. “But how do you find them? And surely there are thousands of children dying across the world every day and you certainly don't stuff your ship to the gills.”
“I follow the compass,” he confessed secretly.
“A compass?” Cassandra huffed dubiously. “I admit I'm not an adventuress and yet I've never used a compass that didn't simply point me stubbornly northwards.”
“Exactly,” Titus smirked.
“Excuse me?” she asked, clearly confused by his meaning. “Quit playing games, Titus. Speak plainly. This is to be my role eventually is it not?”
“You're right,” he sighed. “I use a magicked compass. I follow its arrow and it leads me to a dying youth without fail. I do not know how the compass knows or how it chooses. As far as I know the object could be as old as the Island and although I've stretched my life beyond the natural time I am not that old.”
“So without this compass you'd be at a loss,” she mused. “Seems risky to have only one. What if you were ever to lose it?”
Titus nodded acknowledging her concern. “That is why there are three. Or at least there were for one has been lost.”
“You've already lost one?” she cried.
“When you set sail off the Island you must follow the compass. It will lead you to a dying soul. Sometimes just one and sometimes it will continue to point you to others. You must follow the compass without hesitation. Whether that means you spend weeks traversing the Outer World collecting souls or you merely stop for just one, you must follow the arrow. Eventually it will point you back to your ship and to the Island. You can't find the Island of Oneiroi without one of these three enchanted compasses. You could explore every crevice on the earth and never find it. ”
“What has this to do with losing the compass?” Cassandra asked bluntly.
Titus' eyes drifted in memory. “One of my sailors grew restless for adventure. He longed to see the world beyond the Island, but as I was the only one with permission to leave the ship he began to ache with curiosity. Born a Jourdie it was only natural he felt curious about the world he was never permitted to step foot in. While I was off hunting for souls he snuck into my cabin and found the velvet-lined chest that stored the compasses. We were docked at a port in France and after slipping a compass into his satchel he felt the Outer World beneath his boots for the very first time.
“He needed the compass to find his way back to our ship, to Oneiroi. But when I returned he still remained at large. He broke the rules and I would not ignore my oath to follow the compass. It remained steady in its course and so we set sail to follow it.”
“You just left him behind?” Cassandra asked aghast.
“He knew the risks,” Titus growled. “Besides, the compass could have pointed him home but whether he ignored it or died I'll never know. And so I keep one compass on my person at all times, one I've hidden somewhere only I know, and the third remains lost in another realm.”
“It's a bit risky to hide a compass where only you know the location, isn't it?” Cassandra pointed out a bit too curiously. “If anything happened to you then two compasses would be lost.”
“I will pass on its secret to you when you take on the role of Collector. Until then it is a risk I am willing to take.”
“And what about the one lost in the Outer World?” she pressed. “Aren't you worried that some unsavory character might discover it and breach Oneiroi's shores?”
A chuckle slipped past Titus' lips at that. “Nyet, Feuer. It would be useless to any who did not hold the knowledge of its magic. Any normal person would assume it to be broken and is therefore likely destroyed or forever lost.”
Cassandra did not seem overly satisfied with his answers but a different question raised its hand. “Why do you call me that?”
“Feuer?”
“Yes. What does it mean?”
“It means fire,” he translated simply.
“And why do you call me that,” she repeated. “My name is Cassandra.”
“In time you will understand but that moment is not this one,” Titus answered in a tone that ended the conversation.
“You'd think you'd call me something to do with water,” she muttered stubbornly. “That is my strongest alignment isn't it?”
Titus gave her a flat smile telling her that he knew she was still trying to fish secrets from his lips. “You are adept at each equally, it is you who chose to turn from the others and hold water close. You are fire and yet I find it interesting that you chose its opposite to wield above all else.”
“Earth, wind, fire...they are exactly what they claim to be,” she supplied. “Water, however, can exist in three different states either in turn or simultaneously. Water can be manipulated to fit any need but never can it be destroyed. Burn it and it turns to mist only to rain back to the earth. Bury it and it explodes back to the surface in a geyser. Whip it with winds and it becomes a force of destruction or suck out its warmth and it turns to sharp, impassable ice. Earth can be scorched, wind can be blocked, fire can be smothered, but water will simply shift form and evade defeat. You call me fire, but I strive to be water.”
A cold challenge glinted in her eyes and Titus took it in with cautious curiosity. Titus had known at once that choosing Cassandra as his apprentice was an unwise decision under normal circumstances, but he enjoyed a good game and the prophecy proved an excellent one. He couldn't resist raising the stakes by taking the girl under his wing, her veins overflowing with magic now at her easy disposal because of his guidance.
There was always a chance she might adapt to life as a Whisper, make friends and accept this gift of a peaceful life being offered. But if he were honest he knew the chance had been slim. He knew the moment she refused her brother passage. Cassandra might yearn to be water but her heart was fire. She would not adapt, she would consume and destroy. With any hope, the Whispers will be prepared for her rise. Yes watching them scurry in her wake would be entertaining to be sure.
“Back so soon?” Abel pushed off the pillar where he'd been leaning and likely lurking for Cassandra's return. “Has Titus given up on you already?”
A sneer hinted at her lips as her eyes raked over him sharp with condescension and finding him wanting. “If so at least I can proudly declare myself worthy of his attention even for a brief moment while you remain at a loss for any at all.”
Anger limned his body at her soft, barbed words. “I rule with the Whispers,” he snapped. “What are you? A mistake already tossed out on the street?”
With no witnesses in the hall Cassandra's cold façade cracked and in swift fury she threw out her hand shoving Abel against the far wall with her magic. Rage colored his dark face but her power held him firmly in place. Stalking toward the boy with the slow graceful steps of a predator who enjoys toying with its prey, Cassandra let him see every flicker of flame and shadow in her eyes.
“Do not forget, Abel,” she murmured dangerously in his ear, “That it was I whom Titus chose to train and whom the blessed Island bowed to fill my veins with its magic. You have nothing but a title, old child. And when I'm through you will have nothing at all.”
Abel looked ready to slit her throat with his fangs if he'd had any but Cassandra was spared his pathetic reply by the sounds of footsteps and laughter coming their way. Releasing him at once and putting a professional amount of space between them she turned towards the intruders and all they saw was innocent delight upon her face, no hint of the threats previously poisoning the air.
“Medusa! Kenshin!” she called gleefully. “You'll never guess what Titus taught me this morning.”
The warrior's slender eyes glowed at her lovely smile but Medusa elbowed him out the way. “What element does it derive from?” she asked eagerly. “Is it even cooler than suspending water droplets in the air?”
Cassandra hid a secret smile at her words. For all Kenshin and Medusa knew her magic was relegated to mere parlor tricks but she spent her nights in the privacy of the midnight woods to unleash herself and test her boundaries. Titus' lessons dealt in control and her own explorations focused on creativity.
Linking an arm with Medusa and her other with Kenshin she began steering them away from the glowering trout still lurking in the hall. “Oh much better,” she grinned. “I've been working on manipulating air to move objects or pin them in place.”
Kenshin murmured affirmations while Medusa cackled with delight and began spouting off a list of possibilities for such an ability but Cassandra merely glanced over her shoulder delivering a last warning smile to the Whisper who refused to yield. Cassandra would have a spot on the Council and she would bring changes when she did. If Abel had any good sense then he would give up this ridiculous crusade against her and step aside. A small flutter of excitement rippled through her chest at the strong suspicion that he would not be so acquiescent.
“So are you going to show us or what?” Medusa nudged bringing Cassandra back to the present.
She allowed a light blush to dust her cheeks. “Well it isn't much to behold right now. Any Whisper who chose such a gift could probably do what I can but Titus claims with diligent practice I could move almost anything!”
Gleaming obsidian hair shook ruefully under the sun. “I must say I'm quite jealous of you sometimes.”
“Oh please,” she laughed, the sound a bright tinkle of silver bells. “And what about you two? What are your gifts exactly. I don't think I've ever asked, for which you must forgive me. Here I am going on and on about myself when I'm sure you both have far more interesting displays to share.”
Kenshin's face stiffened as he fought to keep his face from reddening but at a little squeeze of his arm and Cassandra's full attention fixated on his warm brown eyes he confessed, feeling quite sure she would laugh at him. “I can shape-shift into animals,” he answered cautiously as if awaiting her scathing laugh.
“Can you control them? Command them?” she inquired curiously.
“Not precisely but they tend to listen to me. Even when I'm human, I often get the sense that there's a loyalty there between us.”
Silence hung in the air a moment before Cassandra stopped their stroll and faced him fully. “Kenshin,” she said in an impossibly soft velveteen voice. “Why do you look as if you are bracing yourself for something horrible?”
With great effort he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Because your power is so great I thought surely you'd scoff at my silly scrap of a gift.”
Cassandra's eyes widened as her brows furrowed sadly. “I would never do such a thing to you, Kenshin. Never. And just so we're clear, I think your gift is incredible. I can do many things it's true but I do not have the loyalty or understanding of the animal kingdom much less the ability to shape-shift.” She tilted her head with a small smile creeping up her lips. “You can become any beast that roams this island and they'll protect you in any form. If you think about it perhaps this makes you king of the animals. Now who do you think is more impressive?”
Laughter danced in his eyes but he leaned his head towards hers and answered, “You.”
Cassandra couldn't keep the delight off her face. “And which creature is your favorite skin to don?”
As if he could feel the wind combing its fingers through his fur even now he answered, “The wolf.”
“Excellent choice,” she nodded and he stood up straighter at her approval. Subtle enough to go unnoticed but Cassandra was always watching.
Resuming their previous pose and inviting them to continue their walk she turned to Medusa. “And you? What devious gift do you have?”
“Devious?” Medusa protested in mock affront.
“Ye
s, devious,” Cassandra snickered.
“You wound me, my friend.”
“I do not. Now out with it.”
Indeed a mischievous light glinted in her eyes as she said, “I can make any soul confess any truth I seek from them.”
Cassandra stopped with a jolt. “You what?” she asked, her voice a touch breathless, even worried if one knew to look for it.
Medusa chuckled. “I told you I could find out your darkest secrets if I wanted to.” Cassandra's face must have paled because she hurriedly added, “But I wouldn't. Unless it was to interrogate an enemy or a matter of life-or-death then I would never press for anything private without permission. I usually just end up using my gift to help settle disputes between Jourdies. Smuggle the truth from their lips.”
Cassandra forced herself to huff out a laugh and relax her shoulders. “Of course you wouldn't,” she dismissed breezily. “You are a good person and I would believe nothing less.” And though she knew Medusa spoke true it did not comfort her for what constitutes an enemy? Whatever friendship stood between them now would hold no sway if Medusa thought her ambitions were a threat to the others but Cassandra supposed she'd cross that bridge when she got to it.
“I am curious,” she began vaguely.
“About what?” Medusa encouraged.
“About everything, I'm sure,” Kenshin teased.
Cassandra grinned. “Well, I suppose you are not wrong in that regard,” she agreed with good humor. “However at present I find myself curious that the Whispers train with fist, blade, and magic, yet not with guns. Where I come from the peacekeepers all carried such weapons and I confess they seem a rather efficient way to put down trouble.”
Kenshin shrugged. “They do not work on the Island.”
“Pardon me?” she blinked.