Page 47

Chapter 46

Selestina

T he combat field glistens under the weak sunlight, the dew on the grass clinging to my boots as I take my place opposite Nasarea. Students circle the practice area, some stretching, others murmuring with half-hearted attention as Professor Karr begins his instruction. I’m not listening. My focus is split, scattered, weighed down by the growing unease I’ve carried since overhearing the kings.

The prophecy.

The Shadow Reaper.

My murder.

The shadows.

Rhyker.

Tomas.

Matheus.

Nazriel.

Kaelion.

Me.

Even Etzli.

Even with all the chaos unraveling around me, there’s a nagging sense that it’s all too good to be true. It’s like standing in the eye of a storm, knowing the winds will come crashing back any second. I’m holding my breath, waiting for the inevitable, because when the other shoe drops, and I know it will, it’s going to shatter me.

And this time, I won’t survive it.

Nasarea glances at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, a silent question. I give her a curt nod, letting her know I’m ready, or as ready as I’ll ever be. The familiarity of combat practice is a welcome distraction, the routine of it soothing in its own way. The weight of my daggers at my hips brings me comfort.

Professor Karr steps back, signaling for the sparring to begin. Nasarea moves first, her blade slicing through the air with precision. I block easily, the clang of our weapons ringing out like a sharp symphony.

“You’re distracted,” Nasarea mutters, lunging again. Her blade grazes my arm—not deep, but enough to sting.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” I reply, forcing a smirk, though my mind is anything but present.

The match intensifies, the rhythm of our movements becoming faster, more erratic. Sweat beads on my brow as I push back against her relentless attacks, each strike pulling me further from my thoughts and into the moment. Until it happens.

Nasarea’s blade arcs toward me, faster than expected, and I dodge, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground. My hand instinctively reaches out, grazing the cool, damp earth for balance. That’s when I feel it—a pull, a strange vibration under my palm, like the hum of magic.

Before I can fully process it, something white catches my eye. A small, lifeless bird lies on the ground ahead of us, its delicate wings broken and muddied. I crawl to it. I don’t remember seeing it there before. My hand hovers above it, and without thinking, like my body is doing its own motions, I press my palm to the ground again.

The whispers start. I can’t understand the words—if they’re even words—but they seep into my bones, chilling me to the core.

And then the bird moves.

Its wings twitch first, a fragile, jerky motion, followed by its head lifting unnaturally. The once dull eyes shine now with an otherworldly light, too bright, too wrong. It lets out a sharp, piercing cry that cuts through the din of the combat field.

Everything stops.

The sparring. The conversations.

Even the wind seems to hold its breath. All eyes are on me, and the thing at my hands that should not be alive. My heart slams against my ribs, and I stagger back, my hand snapping to my side as if I can undo what just happened.

“Selestina.” Nasarea’s voice is low, urgent. She steps forward, her movements careful. “What did you just do?”

“I—” The words die in my throat. My mind is racing, screaming at me to make sense of this. The magic, the whispers—it wasn’t shadow magic. It wasn’t elemental. It was something darker, colder. Something I didn’t even know I could do.

“She’s fine,” Nasarea says suddenly, loud enough to cut through the murmurs of the other students who are now gathering closer, their curiosity quickly morphing into suspicion. She steps in front of me, her body a shield. “The bird was stunned, and Selestina helped it. That’s all.”

Professor Karr strides over, his piercing gaze darting between me, Nasarea, and the bird that now flutters weakly to the nearest tree, as though mocking me with its newfound life. “What’s going on here?” he demands.

“Nothing,” Nasarea replies smoothly, her voice steady. “Selestina slipped. Probably startled the bird into waking up. Isn’t that right, Selestina?”

I blink, trying to find my voice. “Y-yeah,” I stammer, hating how unconvincing I sound. “It was just… startled.”

Professor Karr narrows his eyes, but after a long, tense moment, he nods. “Focus on your sparring next time,” he snaps before turning back to the other students, barking orders to resume practice.

Nasarea waits until the crowd disperses, her hand gripping my arm tightly as she pulls me aside. “What the hell was that?” she snaps, her voice low but fierce. “That wasn’t normal magic. That wasn’t any magic I’ve ever seen.”

I shake my head, still trembling. “I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“You brought it back, Selestina,” she interrupts, her tone deadly serious. “You resurrected it. I felt death around it. I’m sure all the Tonalacas did.” She pauses and looks around. “That’s not just magic. That’s?—”

“Impossible.” I finish for her, though the word feels hollow even as I say it. But I know what I felt. The power. The whispers. The cold. It wasn’t a mistake, and it wasn’t chance. It was me.

Nasarea’s grip tightens, her nails digging into my skin. “No one can know about this,” she says firmly. “Not Alexander. Not the princes. Not anyone. Do you understand?”

I nod, my throat dry, but I can’t stop the storm of questions swirling in my mind. What is this magic? How did I do it? And why does it feel so… familiar?

“Nasarea.” I start hesitantly, glancing at her. “What if… what if I’m not…? ”

She stiffens, her eyes locking onto mine. “Not what?”

“Not human,” I say quietly, the words feeling foreign, unreal. “What if this… this thing inside me isn’t normal? Isn’t me ?”

Her gaze softens for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by determination. “I already told you that you’re not human,” she says. “We’ll figure it out. But for now, we keep it buried. Got it?”

I nod again, though the unease lingers, coiling tighter around my chest. Nasarea might be willing to help me hide this, but I can see the fear in her eyes, the unspoken question hanging between us.

What does this mean for me ? For everything I thought I knew about myself?

As we leave the combat field, I glance at the tree where the bird now perches, its bright eyes following me with an intelligence that feels almost accusing. It shouldn’t be alive. And yet, it is.

And so am I.