Page 10

Bria

I rose early again this morning from the nightmares that tore through my sleep, keeping me from any true rest last night.

Though this time, the nightmare involved only my sister.

She had been so young, only thirteen, when we were separated.

But even then, she had the darkest hair I’ve ever seen—ebony, but so lustrous it appeared tinged with blues and purples.

Her eyes have always been green, like our mother’s, resembling moss fresh with morning dew.

In the dream, she was just as I remembered her, but older, more mature.

Nimai was graced with the same soft features as me—round cheeks but on a more slender and taller frame, a lithe body more on the skinny side as a kid.

My mind was playing tricks on me, showing me a girl who had grown into her figure, a beautiful young woman that bore a striking resemblance to my sister.

What I imagine she would look like now, but with fear in her eyes.

And she had been screaming, a blood-curdling sound that ripped my body into consciousness.

It was the worst nightmare I’ve experienced yet. It felt vivid. Real. And it left me with a fierce bout of nausea that had not let up until my run this morning, where I emptied the contents of my stomach halfway up the path. Maybe I did have too much to drink last night, come to think of it.

“And what has your attention today, dear Prophecy?” Cato’s voice draws me back to the present. Gods, I’m tuning out far too much lately. Too much in my own head.

I don’t even have the chance to scold him about the nickname before he continues, “Focus on the bones, Bria.”

Shit. The bones. I’m supposed to be working on reanimation right now and instead I’m zoning out. The nightmares are really getting to me.

“Right,” I say before turning my attention back to the graveyard in front of me, blaming my absent mind on the pressure of my role.

We are on the edge of the village today, far from where anyone might stumble upon my session with Cato. No one ventures out this far and none of the roads leading out of the camp would take them in this direction. We are alone on this quiet morning.

The frigid air holds the crisp smell of snow, and I’m certain there will be a new dusting of snowflakes coating the ground by the end of the day.

I understand why this part of my training needs to be outside, but I miss the warmth of the library and the crackling fire.

My toes ache from the cold as it seeps through the leather and wool protecting them and I long for this to be over.

“Use your mind to move the energy into the ground,” he coaches.

I close my eyes, gathering the bright light inside of me, calling it to the center of my core.

It warms my body from the inside out, freeing me from the teeth of that biting cold.

I feel the tingling start in my hands and my palms begin to itch as the flames of energy grow, spreading through my veins.

I concentrate on the feeling, the burning.

It doesn’t hurt but I need to move the energy quickly or the heat will become uncomfortable rather quickly.

Beads of sweat pop to life along my brow despite the chill, signaling that my body is ready.

“Focus, Bria,” I can hear Cato softly speaking, though he sounds far away now as I pull on my gifts.

Fire roars in my ears, muffling his voice, and I sink to the ground, my knees colliding with the frozen dirt.

A twinge of pain radiates through my kneecaps and up through my hips, but I barely register it.

Slamming my hands into the earth, I let the heat pulse, let it build.

I push the wave of energy from my core through my veins and to the tips of my fingers, the process burning a trail through my body.

“Sew the bones together,” the command whispers through the thrumming in my ears.

I feel the earth shudder beneath me. Unable to keep my eyes shut, I pry them apart just a little to see the ground split in front of me in an upheaval of dirt and bones that spills from the snowy gap.

Quickly, I snap them closed once more and do as Cato said, I visualize the bones.

Ivory limbs tinged with pale yellow stack upon one another, forming a fearsome monster.

Sitting back on my heels, my eyes flare wide, and I know.

I know that the flames are there. Cobalt and sapphire fire reflect the skeletal warrior in front of me.

It’s there. It’s real. I’m struck with awe at what I’ve just accomplished, gasping at the sight.

The skeleton falters, stumbling forward a bit.

“Shit!” I yelp and scramble backward when I see it move. The bones clatter before me in a heap, splintering with the impact.

Cato claps his hands together in delight. “Well done, dear Prophecy. Well done!” he exclaims, showering me with praise.

But I sit there shocked, panting from the effort. “Stop calling me that,” I growl out through shallow breaths before slumping all the way back on the cold, hard ground. I look up at the gray sky and listen to the faint laughter coming from Cato.

He lets me lay there for a few moments, heaving air into my lungs and staring into the sky. Fucking bones. I can’t fucking believe it.

“You’re going to need some rest after that,” he remarks, stretching out a hand to help me up from the where I lie.

“We can practice again tomorrow.” I take his hand and stand, my legs shaking with the effort, threatening to give out on me at any moment.

The fire within is no longer a roaring flame, now a mere flicker of energy.

My body feels as if I have run through every peak of the Kaanos Mountains and back, slack with fatigue.

The pile of shattered bones stares back at me as Cato speaks. “We used your own store of energy today, so you need to build it back up. This would be easier if you were willing to pull energy from something living,” he explains, a clear disdain for my choices in his tone.

“I said no,” I bite back.

The old man wants me to learn how to pull energy from others so that I can hone the skill of draining energy to raise the dead, but I refuse. There are no other people around with magic aside from him, so how could I even do that?

Cato lets out a “tsk” and throws his hands up in exasperation. I’m not an easy student, but he need only put up with me a few more days before he will be rid of me. Nimai will be far better behaved. She always has been.

We walk back to the village together, slowly now, as my drained body barely manages one foot in front of the other.

As we near the door to the inn, I feel the first flake of snow fall on my face and am happy to be back, delighted to get out of the cold now that my body is cooling off from the burst of energy.

The surge of heat always leaves after my energy stores are depleted, leaving me cold and tired.

Cato walks inside with me and finds Ashbel to tell her I need food and to make sure I spend the day recouping.

I want to tell him to shut up and that I will be fine on my own, but I appreciate his explanation as I don’t know how much longer I can remain upright after this.

Having Ash to help is probably better than me collapsing in my own bed, tired and hungry.

Ash listens to the crouched figure with her arms crossed before she shoos him away and helps me to her room.

I melt into her soft and worn sofa and close my eyes while she covers me in a warm woolen blanket.

I feel her tuck an arm around me, sliding her body next to mine, and I drift into a deep sleep, pulled down by exhaustion and the smell of vanilla.