Splintering Reality (Breaking Order Series Book 2)

by Catherine Kopf

  Every Dreamer glared in silence, letting their quivered lips and firm postures speak louder than words. Their eyes shifted my way, gazing at me like I’d unlocked a discovery that’d change the course of history. For all I knew, it would, at least for me.

  The stand keeper’s gasp dissolved the silence. “You — you opened it.”

  “Whoah…" my jaw dropped with disbelief.

  “Awesome! You found a reading spot. Decided to pick this up. It might come in handy.” Kuan-yin held a book in her hands, the cover depicting different symbols in various colors.

  “Henry had one of those.” Wes pointed to the book. “Let’s check this new place out and you can read us some!”

  Kuan-yin blew a raspberry. “Read it yourself. I’ve done a little—”

  “Wes didn’t have anyone to teach him to read growing up.” my voice wavered, feeling sorry for Wes.

  “Oh… well come on! Let’s at least check this place out!” she pointed into the opened room.

  “What about Becky and Zeke?” I scanned the area for them. No luck.

  “They’re still shopping.” Wes adjusted his backpack strap.

  Kuan-yin swung the book under her arm. “You grab anything?”

  Wes smirked. “Just a ton of art stuff.”

  Kuan-yin, Wes, and I crept into the new room. A low humming roared underneath us and neon cyan lights illuminated the room’s edges. In the center, a computer like the supercomputers used by The Regime sat; wires hung down the side.

  With this, I can listen to my mother’s flash-key.

  Kuan-yin held the book in her hands. “Well, you going to read it or not?”

  I took it from her and sat on the floor. Kuan-yin and Wes joined me. Opening the book to its first page, a cloud of dust spewed out. I coughed.

  “Geez — How old is this thing?” Kuan-yin whispered to Wes.

  Maybe she was in close enough range to hear this time, but still, being able to hear her well astounded me.

  I shook off the feeling and read the book’s title aloud. “Magic Affinities: Dangers and Uses. It says the guide was written by Astra Knight.”

  Wes tapped my shoulder. “Think she’s any way related to Calista?”

  “Mr. Knight wouldn’t marry someone interested in magic.” I felt along the page’s gold embedded letters. It was similar to contraband books The Regime burned for fuel. The pages were cream, worn, and pictures were hand drawn on every page.

  Flipping to the next page, a girl wielding fire in her right hand was painted under the term Pyrokinetic Witch. The girl’s blonde hair and brown eyes looked nothing like Enya, though she carried Enya’s flame shaped mark on her ankle. The raised texture of the paint against the page left a contrast between the colors and feel of the book. Underneath the drawing it read:

  “Their magical center is in their emotions. Weaknesses are insufficient mental confidence and those who wield ice or water.”

  “Did this book help you learn how to draw all those symbols?” I gazed at Wes.

  He nodded. “The pictures in this book are amazing!”

  Kuan-yin felt along the page. “Think about how long it takes to make copies of this!”

  I flipped through the book some more. Pages of Aquakinetic users, Oracles, Onlookers, wielders of illusion, light, stars, mist, and even about dual elements. There was even a page about those who could create technology or sew using nothing but their passion, willpower, and magic.

  “Why’d you stop?” Wes asked.

  “Sorry,” I glanced at the page. “But Kuan, why are these pages under Shadows ripped out?”

  Kuan-yin grabbed the book from me. “Ambert, even if they were there, you wouldn’t want to look at those. They’re pages of dark magic — opposite to Dreamer magics.”

  Wes blew a raspberry. “Those are just bedtime stories aren’t they? Henry used to scared me every night when I was little.”

  “There are different types dealing with destruction, hate, violence, war, and death. Some even bring out the worst side of yourself through seduction or charmspeak. Anyway, when someone succumbs to that, they lose a piece of themselves. They become hollow and filled with evil. Deadly and cold. Like demons.” Kuan-yin clutched her blade.

  I jolted my head away from the book to face her. “Like what?”

  “Never mind. Just keep reading.” Kuan-yin smiled.

  I flipped to a page that caught my attention.

  “Wielders of Sound.

  A rare element known for vast powers and influence on the general population. Powers over frequencies and above average hearing capabilities. With enough focus, a sound wielder will crack or even break glass using friction and different pitches even the human ear has trouble hearing.

  Despite these calculated abilities, sound wielders also carry a huge connection to music and its instruments. It’s said that you can give a sound wielder an instrument and they’ll master it within a few days, sometimes less if the practice is focused enough. Not only that, but a blood transfusion from a sound wielder temporarily allows others to do the same when they touch a piece of music.”

  “This reminds me of the cracked glass we saw before, Wes.” I pointed to the page.

  Wes placed a hand on his chin. “You think a sound wielder cracked the glass that night?”

  “That’s my best bet.”

  “You sure you didn’t do it?” Kuan-yin’s leg fidgeted.

  I plastered on a smile. “Kuan, we talked about this. My sister’s the one with magic.”

  “Magic runs in families. And your mother wielded sound. Your father was the one with fire,” Wes nudged my shoulder.

  “Guys, we can't prove it was me. Besides, The Regime has posters of me all over the country. I don’t need anything making me stand out. More people would die and—” I started.

  “But you quickly learned to play the violin to open this room.” Kuan-yin raised her hands.

  Wes nodded. “And you wrote that song with Enya in a span of four hours.”

  “Because I’m determined enough to do it. Besides, I’ve given Cal a blood transfusion before and—”

  Wes grabbed my thin arm with worry in his eyes. “Calista needed a blood transfusion?”

  I lowered my head. Yes, Cal needed a blood transfusion. She could’ve taken any blood type, but the hospital in Fortress was slow on getting blood bags during the blizzard. She was so small. What was she? Ten?

  Our normal route home was blocked off so we crossed a river. I promised I’d keep her safe, but she was smaller than me. I didn’t realize she was bleeding after cutting herself on a sharp section of the log. I also didn’t see her untied shoe.

  The sound of her splashing into the water made my heart stop. Using a branch, I rescued her and rushed her to Fortress’ hospital. She came down with a severe case of hypothermia, and she needed a transfusion fast. Being low on supplies, I was the one chosen for the transfusion. Me. A scrawny, thirteen-year-old who just so happened to be a universal donor.

  The Regime should’ve taken the hospitals more seriously, but they were too busy with projects like Project Dark Phoenix to care about the safety of its own people. The point of being a doctor or a nurse was to save lives but where was that?

  For The Regime, it was to save supporters. To save loyal people. Not two children. Not a child who couldn’t even get his last name out to the doctor before quivering for them to save his sister.

  CRASH!

  “Sweet paintings!” Wes jumped.

  The computer screen in front of us, the one I was going to use to play my mother’s flash-key, shattered. Shards of glass clinked on the floor and splintered into thousands of pieces. Wires from the computer dropped from where they were suspended, and — a dizzy spell came over me.

  They didn’t have to look for proof that I was a sound wielder. The proof found its way to me.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Ambert

  “Guess that confirms ou
r suspicions.” Kuan-yin’s eyes shifted away from me.

  Wes placed a hand on his chin. “I just don’t get why you didn’t show any signs before.”

  I took off my backpack and sighed. Even if I refused to accept it, there was a possibility my Antiserums delayed or even stopped my powers. I took a vial from my backpack and held it up to where they could see.

  “You still take the meds the dream-killers gave you?!” his eyes widened.

  I let out a harsh breath. “You don’t understand. The Commander will execute Cal if I don’t.”

  “And even in Safe Haven, you kept taking that poison! Don’t you know how to be yourself?” Wes drew in a long breath to calm himself down. “Did you skip a dose yesterday?”

  “... Guess so.”

  “You okay?” Kuan-yin cocked her head. “We could paint an outside wall if you want. Calista did it in Jīnlóng. It’ll take your mind off of—”

  I plastered on a smile. “You and Wes can go ahead. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  When Wes and Kuan-yin left, I placed my head in my hands and released a sigh.

  I took my new violin and played some notes. The chords flowed through me and let me think about what was going on. I played a scale up and down. Then faster, then in patterns. Up and down, just like my emotion, I weaved through the music as if it was my own blood.

  I smiled. If I had magic, at least it was one I liked.

  I snatched a spare piece of scratch paper and wrote down the notes as I liked them. The notes themselves strung together like bread and butter. Using a notebook, I jotted down a few lyrics for Enya later and continued playing the melody again and again.

  Someone clapped behind me. “Stunning. You’re getting good at that.”

  “What are you doing here?” I turned to face Becky.

  “Tragic isn’t it — to want something so badly and never feel you can get it? You craved to be normal to bridge The Regime and Dreamers together, right?”

  “I want no one to die — no matter what cost that is. It’s why I’ve taken bullets, played by the rules, and urged other people to change things: so The Regime, The Commander, and my friends wouldn’t fight. The rebellion they want will kill them.” my eyes scanned the room. Becky and I were alone and that made me on edge. “… Where’s Zeke?”

  She placed herself against me and brushed the side of my face. Her neon-pink eyes flashed crimson before returning to normal. “Wouldn’t it be great to come back to Fortress? With me?” Becky whispered, “You don’t need them.”

  She brushed my face again and placed a hand on my chin. Near her neck outlined a black, jagged heart. This design crept up the side of her face like it was alive. Becky leaned forward and puckered her lips, her icy hands touching my neck—

  “No.” A discomforting feeling coursed through me and I turned away. “I’m not interested in this. Never have been. Never will be.”

  Becky placed her hand on my chin again and caused me to look into her eyes. The color flashed again. She wasn’t just being flirtatious, and by the ice cold skin and the sweat traveling down her face, it exhausted her.

  I brushed her away and escaped from the wall. “... You’re a charmspeaker. This is dark magic.”

  “Wow, I expected you to fall for me like that.” Becky snapped her finger. “One kiss would’ve done you in too if you weren’t… ace. Too bad — guess that means I’ll have to play dirty.”

  Play dirty? What’s her next play?

  “Zeke!” Becky called out.

  Golden eyes pierced the darkness. A blade laid in his hand, a sharp and sheen look on its side. Zeke’s playful face looked more sinister — a corrupted soul no longer the doctor who saved my life.

  “Should’ve played nice, Ambert.” Zeke slashed his blade and cut my upper right arm; blood oozed out the wound and stained his old lab coat.

  I grabbed onto my arm and flinched. “Zeke, snap out of this. This isn’t the doctor who saved my life!”

  “I’m still trying to save your life.” Zeke clenched the blade in his hands, now dripping in crimson. Drops spilled to the floor, one after another, and a desire for more flickered in his eyes.

  Despite all the training in Fortress, despite the trauma I’d known, every fiber in me trembled. This was serious. Seconds ticked away. Each brought back feelings and plans.

  Of all the people to be Regime spies, I wasn’t expecting this betrayal. Drip — more blood splattered to the floor. I reached into my back pocket. Nothing. Crap. I forgot Zeke and I switched clothes.

  “True, the good doctor did save your life, but that was before he met me. Once I got him to The Science Department, he changed — evolved even.” Becky extended her hands and reached into her bag. “It surprised me that you didn’t suspect us in the storage room. Guess your heart made you naive. Pity.”

  “You’re coming with us back to Fortress.” Zeke lunged again, this time barely scraping past my leg.

  My breaths quickened as I scanned the area for an escape. “I won’t hurt either of you.”

  “Sweet. Too bad we’re not reciprocating.” Becky chortled.

  If there were any time to have controlled powers, it’d be now. How did Enya do it? I opened the palm of my hand and concentrated. A glass vase shattered to my right. I needed to try again. Concentrating once more, I shattered Zeke’s sword, shredding my old polo’s sleeve on Zeke’s arm. A smile formed on my lips.

  He summoned another sword using materials around him. His arm revealed a scarlet blood-drip design, jagged at the edges. This was dark magic too — just like Kuan-yin said. This concept was new; yet, at the same time, something about this magic was cold, familiar. It didn’t seem like the evil Kuan-yin painted. There were many layers, just like a song. Each jagged mark was different, just like Dreamers themselves.

  “Can’t get your sound to work, sweetie? I should’ve just captured you after finding you with those witches!” Becky brushed a curl out of her face.

  B… So Becky was the person who left the letter in my backpack after I drank the chalice. Her appearance with Zeke afterward should’ve raised an alarm. Why didn’t I think of it before?

  It didn’t matter. I couldn’t take on both Zeke and Becky. Not by myself.

  “Hey, blade master!” a voice called. “How about you take on a real challenge?”

  I turned. Kuan-yin put her long hair in a ponytail and removed her katana from its hilt. Her blade struck Zeke’s sword.

  “Once you were a small boy who only wanted to live. You said you’d do anything. Even though you bash and claw for your survival, the darkness will catch up to you, and when it does, you’ll drown in it.” Becky raised her chin. “Let The Commander have his dues.”

  “You don’t know me at all.” I clenched my fist.

  She snapped her fingers. Regime soldiers surrounded the marketplace, dressed in uniform black and gray. Gunshots blared through the market. Dreamer screams reverberated in my eardrums.

  My eyes darted around the store and watched the stand keeper who gave me the violin nodded at me with a small smile before meeting a dreadful end — one he didn’t deserve.

  Something pinched at my neck. I winced. “Ack!”

  Becky put a high tech syringe into her bag. “I hope you’ll understand this is for the good of both you and The Regime.”

  The guards tripled in number, and my vision blurred and spun. It had to be from that injection. Was it one of my vials of Antiserum? Poison? A sleeping draft? No! I had to get to Cal. If she was anywhere in this city, even with Enya, she wouldn’t be safe.

  The pain lacerated from the inside — slashing, piercing. Each breath grew shallower and scorched like one of Enya’s flames. The world shattered, even reality itself splintering beneath the cracks. Just like the computer screen. Just like the window. Every fiber ached, every breath harder, and each second passed like an hour of agony.

  I stumbled into someone’s arms. A familiar pair of blue eyes c
overed by blond bangs caught my attention.

  “Wes—” I croaked. “Get out of here.”

  “Kuan! I’m not losing him…” Wes lifted me with a tear-stained face. “He’s my best friend!”

  “On it.” Kuan-yin retreated to his side, beginning to deflect bullets and slash at incoming guards.

  I panted as they carried me to the train car, and then, with a flash of red, I collapsed.

  )

  A young woman around my age rubbed a pale lotion on my neck. “He should be stable now.”

  Kuan-yin embraced me. “So glad you’re okay.”

  I sat up and placed my hand on my head. “What happened?”

  “... You blacked out and your temperature dropped.” Wes went poker-faced. “We think Becky was trying to kill you.”

  I winced. “Where are we?”

  Kuan-yin’s face lit with anticipation. “On a train heading to Serre.”

  “My painting showed Calista and Enya are in Goldcrest right now.” Wes placed his hand on my shoulder. “Calista won’t think to come to Weisheit. When all the fighting broke out, I’m sure The Regime put it all over the news.”

  The young woman’s blonde hair reminded me of Becky’s, yet she wore all white, and the outfit covered her from her neck to her wrists and ankles. Her expression was nurturing like a mother’s as she tended to my wounds.

  “This is Angeline. She’s the one who saved your life,” Kuan-yin gestured to the young woman.

  She took my hand. “Wes and Kuan told me about the vials of Antiserum in your backpack?”

  I scrunched up my face. “What about them?”

  “They could seal away your magic again if that’s what you choose. However, they also might be hazardous to your bloodstream like what you were injected with in Weisheit.”

  I nodded. “That’d be for the best, regardless of the risk.”

  “I already gave you one this morning, and it calmed everything down. Strange considering it's a Regime manufactured serum. Do you have the same as other people?” Angeline placed a cloth over my laceration.