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Chapter 10

Forgotten Memories

Desperation consumed me as my lungs screamed for air, and I tried to think through the crippling fear. Blackness crept in as the lumis orb still hovering above us seemed to wane.

Was death the darkness my mother claimed was coming for me?

“No!” I screamed in my mind as I fought with every fiber of my being. I hadn’t survived the last decade to perish in a glowing pool. A fierce sense of energy and purpose rose from depths I hadn’t known existed, buried under layers of trained obedience. I gathered the last of my strength, trying to pull my mother down too in a last-ditch effort to survive.

As the world darkened further, a fierce, bright light washed through me, stunning me into stillness, and bringing with it a flash flood of awakened memories.

A beautiful woman with golden hair, a painting come to life, glowing from within. Holding my hand as a child and telling me stories. She’d made tiny creatures out of light and let me hold them—striking creatures with pointed ears, sharp teeth, and twitching noses that had curled into my hand, and one that looked like a giant lizard but had scales, a snout full of sharp teeth, powerful wings, and breathed fire. Creatures that didn’t exist within our floating city.

“One day, Alula, you’ll see them all. You’ll help free them. The Neven and the humans too,” Nur had whispered to me.

Her touch had felt like warm sunshine on chilled skin, while her voice had sounded like bells ringing, and her piercing blue eyes had been brighter than the sky. I’d adored her.

A hard yank on my arm pulled me above the water again, and I came up spluttering, desperate to breathe yet too stunned to do so.

“Goddess above,” I gasped, after finally heaving in a breath. The glowing water seemed to coalesce around me, hugging me tighter. It coaxed my body to ease its panic and urged my mind to accept in a whisper that sounded familiar. It wrapped me in a feeling of love so deep it cracked every wall I’d constructed around my heart. The well of tears I’d capped long ago poured down my face in a silent cascade to mingle with the glowing water clinging to me.

Nur was real.

My mother reached over and brushed at the tears as they trailed down my cheek. “I know, child. She has immense love for you.”

The hand on my cheek was such an alien gesture from my indifferent mother—the one who had just seemingly tried to kill me—that it shocked me back into the moment. The look on my face must have brought her back into the moment too, because her eyes slid away, and her hand dropped back into the water.

“Don’t look at me like that. I did not harm you.”

“What did you do?”

“Nur dimmed and bound your light, along with your memories of her, when you were young, but she didn’t want to leave you defenseless. She designed a failsafe for them to return if ever your life was seriously threatened.”

“Surely there was an easier way than drowning me?”

My mother shrugged. “You needed to let go of what you have become and remember how to fight to reclaim who you are, as well as your memories. I know you may not believe me, and I’m painfully aware I have not been the mother you deserve, but the goddess told me many things too. She never gave me glowing creatures and smiles. Her gift for me was nightmares that have stalked me ever since.”

Bitterness laced her every word, but a profound sadness etched itself into the frown marring her face.

“What in the light are you talking about? I don’t understand.” A mix of adrenaline and shock had loosened my tongue as I dug my toes into the pebbles at my feet, trying to ground myself. The newly awakened memories were fading, but not disappearing. It felt like they were settling into me somehow, rekindling something inside me. Like I was waking up from a bad dream, only there was someone there to hold me this time. It was disconcerting.

“I know. We deliberately kept you ignorant. I still cannot tell you why.” She sighed in frustration, or maybe regret—I couldn’t tell. Any kind of emotion other than indifference from my mother was startling enough that it set my nerves on edge. “All I can say is my path has always differed from yours, but it had to be walked to keep you safe.”

I watched my mother for a moment. She seemed emotionally raw and more than a little defensive.

“Safe from who?” It felt like the more pressing question of the many crowding my thoughts.

“The elders.” She looked at me with a more familiar, disdainful look, like she couldn’t believe that was the question I was asking.

My mouth fell open as disbelief coursed through me. Nobody had protected me from the elders, not for years.

Suddenly, she grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her, as if she desperately needed me to hear her next words. “It could have been so much worse, Alula. You don’t understand. Had we not protected you, you would not have survived.”

I wasn’t sure I was going to survive this conversation with my mother.

“Then explain it to me.” My words were soft but held a new firmness as I jerked my head out of her grip. I wanted answers, and I was getting riddles.

The mother I knew reappeared as she sighed in annoyance and dropped her hands back into the water. This was the harsh one who didn’t suffer fools. Weirdly, it made me feel on a more even footing. There was only so much strangeness I could deal with at once, and my mother outwardly appearing to care for me was unsettlingly strange. “Everything Elder Welkin taught you was passed down by people given unimaginable power with no rules or boundaries. The entire Lumière Codex is a lie.”

At a loss for words, I shook my head in denial. Questions had always simmered in my mind about some of the harsher teachings in the codex, but I struggled with the idea it was flawed at its very core. Yet the Fallen last night implied much the same thing—that the codex was a tool of the elders. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“How could it all be a lie, and why would they do that? What are you saying?” I meant beyond the obvious. I got the lie bit.

Her breathing sped up, and she hissed her next words, conviction blazing in her eyes. “Two centuries ago, when Lumière rose, the elders destroyed the balance between light and dark that existed within the world. I know because I hold the memories of it. The balance must be restored, Alula. To do that, darkness must also rise.”

That hadn’t been what I was expecting from a Vessel of Light. I stepped back, shifting uneasily.

“Before you dunked me, you said darkness would come for me. Come for me how?” I narrowed my eyes at her, not willing to let her escape my question.

“That has not been revealed. The goddess is purposely and infuriatingly vague.”

With a groan, I tipped my head back to the glittering ceiling. The goddess wasn’t the only one being infuriatingly vague. “What else did she say, then?”

“That she has woven many threads with the help of the fates, but yours is the strongest. That you were needed and your actions would matter, one way or another, no matter the choices you make.”

My chest tightened at her words, and I rubbed at it as I tried to get it all to make sense. They were like pieces of a child’s puzzle scattered on the floor. They didn’t seem to fit together. “I’ve been told all my life my light-wielding skills are erratic and unworthy of our family line. I’m nobody’s savior.”

My mother had the nerve to scoff in a very uncultured fashion.

“You can lie to yourself, but not to me, Alula. I watched you wield light from within you as a child. You’ve only struggled because your abilities were bound.” She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in. “Now your light is free once again, and your ability to wield it will grow as you learn it and yourself, whether you are ready or not.”

For a decade or more, I’d yearned for answers. Now that they were coming, I wasn’t sure I liked them.

Her casual mention of the light deep inside me—the one that had seemed indistinct and half dream, even after I’d used it with Mara—was startling. I focused inward, and the path to that deep space within me was no longer murky or hidden. I didn’t need to hunt for it, or risk getting lost. It was a bright path with a straight drop.

“Mother,” I started, not even sure if I was planning to deny her words or agree with them. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I had to admit at least some of what she was saying was true. The memories still settling within me were testament to that.

She shifted toward me, not letting me finish, but didn’t grab my face again. The determination in her blazing eyes was enough to halt my words. My mother was done easing me into things. “You need to listen to me, Alula. This is the most dangerous time for you. The goddess warned that if your light were to be discovered without darkness there to protect you, it would be disastrous. I cannot stress this enough. You need to keep playing the part of the dutiful potentiate for a while longer, even though your light is free. Do you understand?”

The time for me questioning my mother had passed. This was the nexus vessel, and she wasn’t messing around. The tentative nod I gave her felt unconvincing, but she didn’t push.

Thoughts of the Fallen from last night popped up, but I wasn’t about to mention that forbidden meeting right now, not until I’d figured out what it all meant. I didn’t trust her enough, and a part of me I couldn’t yet understand felt weirdly protective of the encounter, even if I didn’t trust him either.

She plowed on without waiting for a response from me anyway.

“That’s not all. The Goddess of Light tasked me with making sure you never become a vessel.” She held up her hand to silence me as I gasped, a hundred questions trying to spill out at once. “Before you ask why, she believes it’s imperative you don’t share your light with the elders. That your light in any hands other than your own would have severe implications for us all.”

Considering sharing light was the duty of every vessel, it would be hard to avoid if I became one. My mother had known this since I was a child and had let me pursue this path anyway. Her mention of Elder Welkin’s rebuke was the bit that stung, though. “Did I ever have a chance of becoming a vessel?”

My mother shook her head, that welling sadness lingering in her eyes. “No. I’m sorry. I know it’s what you thought you wanted, and you endured much to gain it. You’ll still serve our goddess, but your path will be different.”

“Why did you let me become a novice, then?”

She swallowed hard. “Because our family line has always been so strong, and people could sense your light early on. I was given little choice in the matter. All I could do was wait and deflect attention from you as much as I could. It gave me no joy to watch you suffer knowing you would never fulfill your goal.”

A sharp burst of grief had me pursing my lips together. Even knowing I no longer wanted to become a vessel, hearing it put so bluntly was hard to take.

Being a novice, then acolyte, and finally a potentiate, they weren’t just words to me. I’d lived and breathed those roles, shed blood and tears to become them. If I couldn’t become a vessel, I didn’t know who I was anymore. Or how to reach Nur, for that had always been my true goal. At the time, becoming a vessel had been the only path available. Yet, according to my mother and my awakening memories, the goddess herself had been guiding my steps all along.

A lone memory of the goddess embracing me when I’d made her laugh shone brightly in my mind for a moment before fading again. I’d been someone different once, vibrant and alive, even if I’d been a child at the time. I had to believe I could find that part of me again. Letting the memories settle into that void for now, a sense of completeness stole in too. Maybe their absence had been what was driving me all along. It was something to think about later.

If I could trust anyone, it was the goddess; I felt sure of that. I finally looked up at my mother, and she raised her eyebrow, silently encouraging my next question.

Trust aside, I still intended to seek answers. There was more at play here. That seemed to be all I was going to get on this subject from the vessel or my mother, though. She was ready to move on, and strangely, so was I.

With my memories settling in place and a renewed connection to the light within me, that numb emptiness I had carried was fading. I already felt stronger.

“So, what does that mean for me?”

My mother’s expression turned sad, and she raised her hand to stroke my hair but dropped it again awkwardly. “It means you have to take part in the potentiate ceremony in two nights’ time. There’s no way out of it at this point, but we need to make sure nobody offers for you. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

When I didn’t respond, I could sense her impatience as she shifted in front of me, making reflected stars ripple out into the water, yet I needed time to choose my next words.

“Haniel told me he was going to offer for me,” I admitted. I wouldn’t tell her more than that. She was spilling her secrets, but I wasn’t ready to reveal mine.

“We must avoid you becoming a vessel at all costs, Alula. I’ve taken care of Alastor. He won’t be an issue. You must make sure Haniel doesn’t offer for you either. I would rather not destroy him too. Your reputation and Elder Welkin’s rebuke tonight should take care of any others.”

“It’s already done.” As relieved as I was to hear I didn’t need to worry about Alastor, I was only now realizing how ruthless my mother was. Haniel was taken care of, mostly, but I wasn’t about to admit any hesitation and unleash her on him. I’d talk to him again myself if I had to.

“Good. Once the festival is over, I can help you disappear into the town, where you will be safer. I have a network of allies in place who will help you.”

A network of allies was something I wanted to know a lot more about, but it wasn’t the first question that came to mind. “Why did you unbind my light now, then? Surely it would have been safer to do after the ceremony, or not at all?”

She frowned, and her thoughts seemed to go inward. “Because my path differs from yours, and I’m unsure how much longer I’ll be able to help you. I waited as long as I could.”

Her evasiveness when it came to herself made me uneasy. I realized where I got my stubbornness from, which made me think of my brother. “Does Kiran know any of this?”

“No. Your brother is smart, though. He has long suspected something, but I managed to hold him off, for now.”

There was no way I was disappearing anywhere without talking to my brother first. My mother glanced over my shoulder toward the stairs, and I followed her gaze. A lumis orb hidden in a crevice briefly flared to life and winked out again.

I narrowed my gaze at her. I’d never seen an orb do that.

“Someone’s coming.”

My mother spun me around and pretended to rinse out my hair. She made a quick motion with her hand, and the light swiftly dissipated around us until it was just inky dark water again, with only the barest glow clinging to our skin.

“I take it lighting up so much of the pool isn’t something most vessels can do?”

“No. Not to the same degree.” Her abrupt tone put an end to my questions for now.

“I have questions I’m going to need answers to later.” I had so many of them that I barely knew where to start. We hadn’t even touched on the taint I felt within the light.

“I have no doubt.” The sarcasm was clear in her tone, but there was an underlying affection there I wasn’t used to, and her hands on my hair were gentle.

The sound of footsteps reached us, and I couldn’t help glancing in their direction. Another vessel was making her way down to the pool, an orb spotlighting her descent. She was about the same age as my mother, but with prematurely silver hair that fell in gorgeous waves down her back. She halted between steps when she saw us, her eyes flicking between us before she glared at my mother. There were layers of politics amongst the nobility I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, yet the vessels had always seemed beyond that. I wasn’t sure why this vessel was so disturbed by my being here.

“She is a potentiate now, and allowed to be here, Adrita.” My mother intervened before the other vessel could say whatever was on the tip of her tongue. It looked sharp, from the way her mouth was pinched.

My mother made her way out of the water with a grace I could never emulate. “We are done, Alula. There is no need to get too cleaned up. Tonight will not be about you.”

The reappearance of my cold, snide mother had me stiffening as her mask settled firmly back in place. Adrita frowned at the barb, watching every movement we made as I followed my mother in a lot less smoothly, stumbling in the rocky shallows.

We toweled off with soft linens hidden within a natural shelf in the rock while Adrita entered the water. A soft glow surrounded her as she swam, tiny reflected stars trailing in her wake.

“Come, Alula.”

Spinning away from Adrita, I swallowed a sigh as I followed. Playing the dutiful daughter, while already missing the small signs of affection from the mother in the pool.

When we reached the top of the stairs and exited out the secret door, a young female thrall was hovering around the bend. Intrigued, I pulled up behind my mother. I’d caught sight of a human thrall once or twice while exploring the citadel late at night, but they’d always fled as soon as they spotted me. Humans looked so similar to the Neven, apart from their lack of wings, slightly shorter stature and rounded ears, so I’d been curious as to why they were treated so differently. This one stood her ground. She was wearing a threadbare shift with no shoes, and her hair appeared knotted and dirty. Her hands were moving in quick, agitated movements in front of her.

The movements were familiar—similar to secret gestures Kiran had taught me a few years before I became a novice so we could communicate behind my mother’s back. Her movements were fast, and I was rusty, but I caught mention of something being ready.

When the thrall’s eyes caught sight of me, they widened, and she made a garbled sound before shifting her focus back to my mother.

At my mother’s abrupt nod, she retreated and disappeared into the gloom.

It was clear my mother has been hiding more than just my secrets.