Page 108
Story: What Blooms from Death
“That sounds…horrifying.” I stepped closer, until our reflections were side-by-side.
He glanced my way for half an instant before fixing a determined stare back on the mirror. “They’re only nightmares. I know they aren’t real.”
I could hear the thinly-veiled fear in his voice in spite of his obvious efforts to hide it. I wanted to know more about his nightmares and all the other scars he’d collected as a child, but I didn’t want to force him to relive those things—or to admit, out loud, that I was curious about any of it.
“…I should go find my cousin,” he said. “It’s never a good idea to leave him unsupervised for too long.”
I couldn’t think of an excuse quickly enough to keep him. And he was probably right, besides; the gods only knew what sort of trouble Zayn was getting into.
Aleks hesitated one last time before stepping away from the mirror. His expression was difficult to read, hinting at a thousand different things he might have said. But he only nodded toward my shoulder and told me, “Be careful with that. The wound is deep.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He was gone a moment later.
Gingerly, I touched the bandage again. The ache underneath was almost completely gone. I was more convinced than ever that he’d soothed it with his magic. Something that must have been exceptionally difficult to do given his exhaustion, especially under the weight of whatever protective spells surrounded this palace.
Two days, Aveline had said. Two days I’d been asleep. Two days he’d been in here, comforting and watching over me. And now he’d tried to heal me, too.
But that was inside of this room.
Outside, the pressures of our separate worlds awaited, and I could already feel their weight threatening to crush the fragile truce we’d started to build.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nova
“There are two swords, actually,”my brother said as he led me, Aleksander, Zayn, and Thalia down a narrow corridor with a set of double steel doors at its end. Phantom perched on my shoulder, shifted into the form of a small dragon with a lanky body, sharp claws, and feathery wings. Red had stayed behind in the parlor on the other side of the palace, where she was being doted upon by Aveline, who seemed thrilled to have a willing taste-tester for the copious amounts of baked goods she’d originally, unsuccessfully tried to foist off on me.
“Luminor has a counterpart—Grimnor,” Bastian continued, stopping before the doors and running his fingers along the swirling designs etched into them. “Both swords were made by the same divine hand. Both once belonged to the first Vaelora of their respective worlds. The swords channel all sorts of magic, but the most important facet of their power is their ability to guide the Aetherstone on the Equinox—though accounts differ as to preciselyhowthey help control its power.”
“A power that isn’t enough to support both worlds, you claim,” Zayn said.
“And hasn’t been for many millennia. A growing population and an increasing reliance on magic were the original culprits, and then, even as these things stabilized, it never fully recovered.”
“Perhaps because the turning weakened it further?” Zayn mused, speaking in his usual easygoing tone despite the tense mood hanging over the rest of us. “That’s what they get for trying to share, eh? One of the worlds should have just been greedy from the beginning, and then we wouldn’t be dealing with this mess, now.”
Bastian didn’t comment on this, keeping his focus on running his hands over the doors before us, working to break what was apparently an elaborate sealing spell. The tension thickened with his silence, settling over us like a heavy, itchy blanket.
Despite their connections to the Light Keepers, my brother had tentatively agreed to allow both Zayn and Aleksander to accompany us and learn more about the swords and the legends surrounding them—mostly at my insistence.
Thalia, however, seemed less enthusiastic about their presence. Not one to bother with hiding her true feelings, she’d been staring daggers at the two of them for most of our walk. Zayn appeared oblivious to this; Aleksander had been glaring right back at her.
“How many of these turnings have been missed?” I asked.
“According to most records we’ve deciphered, it’s been five-hundred and ninety-six years since that fateful moment when the Aetherstone’s magic didn’t turn toward us as it should have,” said Thalia, stepping closer to my brother, positioning herself as if to shield the movements of his hands from Zayn and Aleksander’s sight.
Finally, the etchings Bastian had been tracing and tapping began to shine with a faint silver glow.
My turquoise bracelet shivered as they did. I was distracted before I could wonder too long about the reaction, however, as the doors pulled apart, revealing a large room on the other side.
Phantom bounced anxiously back and forth between my shoulders, occasionally stretching his long neck out, taking a cautious sniff of the air only to quickly draw back. I clamped a hand onto his wriggling body, holding him still as I gathered my courage and stepped inside along with the others.
The room was cold enough that I was surprised I couldn’t see my breath. Its walls were paneled in dark wood; its floor was smooth, reflective stone; and in the center of the space, suspended in mid-air above a pedestal of polished metal, were two swords.
I drew as close to them as I dared, coming to a stop some ten feet away. Nothing was holding them up, that I could see—they were simply floating, being slowly spun by some unseen hand.
Phantom curled more closely to me, wrapping his scaly body against my neck. His talons caught in the waves of my hair, but I was indifferent to the painful pulling his tangling caused.
He glanced my way for half an instant before fixing a determined stare back on the mirror. “They’re only nightmares. I know they aren’t real.”
I could hear the thinly-veiled fear in his voice in spite of his obvious efforts to hide it. I wanted to know more about his nightmares and all the other scars he’d collected as a child, but I didn’t want to force him to relive those things—or to admit, out loud, that I was curious about any of it.
“…I should go find my cousin,” he said. “It’s never a good idea to leave him unsupervised for too long.”
I couldn’t think of an excuse quickly enough to keep him. And he was probably right, besides; the gods only knew what sort of trouble Zayn was getting into.
Aleks hesitated one last time before stepping away from the mirror. His expression was difficult to read, hinting at a thousand different things he might have said. But he only nodded toward my shoulder and told me, “Be careful with that. The wound is deep.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He was gone a moment later.
Gingerly, I touched the bandage again. The ache underneath was almost completely gone. I was more convinced than ever that he’d soothed it with his magic. Something that must have been exceptionally difficult to do given his exhaustion, especially under the weight of whatever protective spells surrounded this palace.
Two days, Aveline had said. Two days I’d been asleep. Two days he’d been in here, comforting and watching over me. And now he’d tried to heal me, too.
But that was inside of this room.
Outside, the pressures of our separate worlds awaited, and I could already feel their weight threatening to crush the fragile truce we’d started to build.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nova
“There are two swords, actually,”my brother said as he led me, Aleksander, Zayn, and Thalia down a narrow corridor with a set of double steel doors at its end. Phantom perched on my shoulder, shifted into the form of a small dragon with a lanky body, sharp claws, and feathery wings. Red had stayed behind in the parlor on the other side of the palace, where she was being doted upon by Aveline, who seemed thrilled to have a willing taste-tester for the copious amounts of baked goods she’d originally, unsuccessfully tried to foist off on me.
“Luminor has a counterpart—Grimnor,” Bastian continued, stopping before the doors and running his fingers along the swirling designs etched into them. “Both swords were made by the same divine hand. Both once belonged to the first Vaelora of their respective worlds. The swords channel all sorts of magic, but the most important facet of their power is their ability to guide the Aetherstone on the Equinox—though accounts differ as to preciselyhowthey help control its power.”
“A power that isn’t enough to support both worlds, you claim,” Zayn said.
“And hasn’t been for many millennia. A growing population and an increasing reliance on magic were the original culprits, and then, even as these things stabilized, it never fully recovered.”
“Perhaps because the turning weakened it further?” Zayn mused, speaking in his usual easygoing tone despite the tense mood hanging over the rest of us. “That’s what they get for trying to share, eh? One of the worlds should have just been greedy from the beginning, and then we wouldn’t be dealing with this mess, now.”
Bastian didn’t comment on this, keeping his focus on running his hands over the doors before us, working to break what was apparently an elaborate sealing spell. The tension thickened with his silence, settling over us like a heavy, itchy blanket.
Despite their connections to the Light Keepers, my brother had tentatively agreed to allow both Zayn and Aleksander to accompany us and learn more about the swords and the legends surrounding them—mostly at my insistence.
Thalia, however, seemed less enthusiastic about their presence. Not one to bother with hiding her true feelings, she’d been staring daggers at the two of them for most of our walk. Zayn appeared oblivious to this; Aleksander had been glaring right back at her.
“How many of these turnings have been missed?” I asked.
“According to most records we’ve deciphered, it’s been five-hundred and ninety-six years since that fateful moment when the Aetherstone’s magic didn’t turn toward us as it should have,” said Thalia, stepping closer to my brother, positioning herself as if to shield the movements of his hands from Zayn and Aleksander’s sight.
Finally, the etchings Bastian had been tracing and tapping began to shine with a faint silver glow.
My turquoise bracelet shivered as they did. I was distracted before I could wonder too long about the reaction, however, as the doors pulled apart, revealing a large room on the other side.
Phantom bounced anxiously back and forth between my shoulders, occasionally stretching his long neck out, taking a cautious sniff of the air only to quickly draw back. I clamped a hand onto his wriggling body, holding him still as I gathered my courage and stepped inside along with the others.
The room was cold enough that I was surprised I couldn’t see my breath. Its walls were paneled in dark wood; its floor was smooth, reflective stone; and in the center of the space, suspended in mid-air above a pedestal of polished metal, were two swords.
I drew as close to them as I dared, coming to a stop some ten feet away. Nothing was holding them up, that I could see—they were simply floating, being slowly spun by some unseen hand.
Phantom curled more closely to me, wrapping his scaly body against my neck. His talons caught in the waves of my hair, but I was indifferent to the painful pulling his tangling caused.
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