Chapter 5

Dear Mother,

I don’t know what to say. These last few days have made me begin to question everything I’ve ever known. Strange things are happening that have no explanation, and I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t find some answers. Though I’m not fully convinced that I’m not currently going mad. I just can’t shake this feeling, and it’s only growing with more happening every day. I can’t stay in this place of pretending everything’s normal anymore, I tried that and it worked as well as trying to walk through a wall. Father has been dodging my questions more than he usually does, either pretending he’s busy or changing the topic to school or my friends.

Do you know why Father doesn’t talk about his past? Of course you do, you were probably there for at least a good portion of it. The more I think about it, the more I begin to realise how little I know about him. I know less about you and the rest of our family. I have no explanation as to why I’ve been feeling different lately, and Father only writes it off as me turning fifteen and finishing middle school soon. Not that I’m not happy with those, but it’s really not what’s on my mind right now. I ruined Father and Joseph speaking in person again after all these years, and my eyes lit up gold. Literally. I think the blue light I saw with the dagger was similar, but I’m not sure.

I feel like nothing good will come of me not knowing anything, if this isn’t just me overreacting… no, Jacob was acting like something was weird too, but he’s always a bit strange so I don’t know if he counts. But I’ve also specifically heard his voice in my head on more than one occasion, one being before we were even introduced. That has to mean something. I also figured out why his accent sounds so familiar. It's not identical, but it’s very similar to the way that Father talks and Joseph and Charlotte’s accents. That has to mean something, right?

Maybe I’m just going mad. Is it common to lose your mind before you turn fifteen? Or is it just me? I feel like I should wake up from this dream and find that none of this was real, but at the same time, it feels so real every time. I felt the dagger in my hand, I heard Jacob’s voice, I saw the light in my own eyes… I need to know.

Annamarie Rose Olson

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Ben settled himself beside Rachel, the quiet buzz of the small library comforting. She hadn’t said a word about the bruises that she had spotted on his arm when his sleeve shifted far enough, but the burning rage in her eyes told him exactly what her thoughts were.

Now, she had her face stuck in one of her favorite books, her teeth gnawing absently at her lower lip as she read. He watched her for a second, once again envious of her ability to lose herself so easily to a fictional life, one where magic and miracles happened. She had tried to get him to read so many stories over the years, her excitement contagious when she tried to explain them.

They sat at one of the generically empty tables that were never regularly inhabited by students outside of a class visit.

He nudged her foot lightly with his own, a smile growing on his face as she immediately tapped his back, her eyes still locked on the page. “Rachel,” he tried.

She murmured something under her breath, flipping to the next page. She pulled the book ever so closer to her face, off in her own universe.

“Rachel,” his smile grew, prodding her foot again.

She let out a quiet sigh, shifting in her seat. She still didn’t look at him, but the light touch of the toe of her shoe against his let him know she wasn’t totally gone.

He reached out, waving his hand in front of her face, just above the book. “Rachel, you alive?”

Her eyelids fluttered as she was quickly brought back to reality, looking back at him innocently. “Hmm?”

“Hi,” he couldn’t help the grin.

She snorted, placing her mark in the book before softly closing it. “I was at a good part,” she whined, though they both know that she didn’t mean any harm.

“Too bad,” he deadpanned, a humorous spark in his dark blue eyes.

“Boo, you!” She rolled her eyes.

He laughed a muffled chuckle rather than a guffaw.

“What are you doing here?” She finally realized that this was not usually a class that they shared.

“Research stuff for a project,” he shrugged. “I’ll go over there in a minute,” he had time; his teacher liked him enough to let him go off on his own for a few minutes. “You?”

“Swim unit in gym,” she said as an explanation. He understood immediately; her allergy to one of the chemicals in the pool water was something she had complained about in the past. One year they had shared a class; the teacher forced her to go in anyway. She lasted about ten seconds before breaking out into hives.

“Gross,” he scrunched up his face. He was glad his was over with, being one of the first classes to go through it in the year. The pool in their school wasn’t known to be the nicest, not even bringing students into the picture.

“At least Mr. Smith let me come up here rather than have me sit to watch,” she amended.

He nodded, the follow-up of the allergy incident rising in his memory. She had been queasy from the fumes, and then one of their classmates, a rowdy hockey player, naturally, had decided it would be a good idea to splash her with water.

“Are you doing okay?” She switched topics, his face falling slightly at the question.

“No worse than usual,” he met her eyes, letting her know he was telling the truth. After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t lied to her before.

“Will you be okay?” She watched him, her brown eyes more serious and caring than anyone gave her enough credit for. It meant the world to him that she knew his normal was bad, though he could do without her almost daily check-ins.

He hesitated in answering, the night before had been… rough to say the least. That morning, he had hardly been able to motivate himself to get out of bed. His mom had screamed at him until her voice went hoarse and then some, her feet beating into him as she loomed above.

“Stay at my house tonight,” Rachel interrupted his thoughts. “Please.”

He shook his head automatically, knowing that his mom would never allow that, especially with what had happened.

“What even happened this time?” Her voice was quiet, and he knew that some part of her didn’t want to know. He also knew that she was going to imagine the worst if he didn’t say anything, letting her imagination run wild.

“The usual,” he told her. He wasn’t going to tell her any more; he didn’t want to say more.

She bit down on her lip, her eyes growing stormy with the reddish haze she got when angry.

“I was the bigger person; literally and figuratively,” he gestured to his six-foot-tall self, trying to lighten the mood even a bit.

She just stared at him blankly, though a slight glimmer of disappointment showed in her eyes. “I can message my mom and see if you can stay with us,” she pushed again. “It’s not a big deal, and all of them miss you.” Somewhere along the line, her family had all adopted him, unofficially, of course. They did honestly feel more like the idea of family to him, but it felt wrong to invade their space and their love for each other.

“You know I can’t do that,” he felt sick to his stomach every time he said it.

She watched him for a few seconds before picking up her book and bopped him on the top of the head with an eye roll. “Dork,” she told him affectionately. “The door is always open for you,” she reinforced. “Literally, you don’t even have to ring the bell, just walk in and my mom will feed you. She says you’re too skinny.”

He let out a laugh, it sounded a lot like her mom, who had once threatened to have Rachel put him on a feeding schedule throughout the day. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He would, but it didn’t mean he would go through with it. He also knew that she was well aware of that fact. How his mom could ever claim that Rachel and her family were bad influences on him, he didn’t know.

“Now, go find your research you came for,” she scolded him with a small smile. “Before you get in trouble.”

He stood slowly, watching as she reopened her book. “See you later,” he told her, though she had already been sucked back into the other world.

He walked over to join his classmates, and while he searched through mind-numbing titles, his mind couldn’t help but replay the night and the many others before it. Rachel’s offers would go nowhere, he knew there was no escape from his mom. His life would continue to be the same, repeating until the cycle spiraled lower and lower. He knew what his fate was. He pulled out a biography on Earnest Hemmingway, flipping through it before continuing to find more.

He knew his fate.

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Cameron glanced around the council chamber as he entered, his pine-green eyes wary. Slowly, he made his way down the low-leveled steps, finding his seat in the fifth row and taking his seat. He looked to the front of the room, an eyebrow quirked at the fact that the headmaster hadn’t arrived yet, his large empty desk waiting. He straightened his white button-down, his bronze skin dark against the material.

The chamber rose high above his head, the entire structure immaculately carved with old symbols and historical events of the homeland. Wrapping around the walls, carved into the pale gray stone, was a huge mural following the creation of their old nation to the terrible image of the castle half demolished. Depictions of prominent leaders, from Lietasae, their first queen, to Oravinkas, their last king. It reflected them as a people, once strong, now clinging to every bit of their history to keep it from being forgotten.

He heard Amber slide into the seat beside him, her harsh sigh cutting through the polite murmurs of the other members. He turned to his former superior, an amused tick on his lips at her disheveled appearance. Her normally neat, straight, nearly black hair was a tangled mess as it hung around her face, her moonstone-encrusted daeis haphazardly placed on top of her head rather than braided in place. Her dark brown eyes still blurred from sleep without any sign of the traditional black markings she usually displayed. She was slouching back in her chair, dressed in a t-shirt and jean jacket rather than the formal wear that was desired. Her arms were crossed as she glared at him. “It’s too early for this,” she grumbled.

He watched her, not saying anything. Conversation had been difficult between the two of them since Amber had left their observance, stating that she could no longer hold a position of authority in a system she didn’t agree with. She had made it clear that it wasn’t the real reason, the memory of her holding her younger brother, his new commander, against the wall by the throat with flames licking her hand was burned into his memory.

Her eyes narrowed at his extended attention. “What?” She asked dryly.

“Nothing,” Cameron shook his head, redirecting his attention back to the front.

He could tell she was giving him a look, knowing her, it was probably somewhere between exasperation and disgust. A minute passed before he heard her grumble. “I hate council meetings.”

“You don’t have to come to these you know,” he told her, raising his eyebrows as he turned back to face her. “Only family representatives are required to attend.”

“I’m aware,” she stared blankly back at him. “But it bothers him so much for me to just sit here. It’s hilarious.”

He rolled his eyes at that. He didn’t know much about the situation between her and her father, the headmaster, but it was severe enough to have her thrown out from under her family representation. They had become members at roughly the same time, her fallout occurring only a few weeks before the death of his mother, leading him to take her place. Together, the two of them became the youngest members of the council at nineteen.

“Any idea on what this meeting is about anyway?” He asked her. They had all been woken up in a rush, the headmaster’s messenger going door to door announcing the meeting. It was concerning, just how out of character the call had been. It hadn’t even been such a rush when the notorious serial killer that had murdered his mother and one of his teammates had been caught. He couldn’t help the slight edge of satisfaction at the memory of the sword cutting through the man he had thought of as his friend. He glanced at Amber after that thought, remembering her screams as she cried over her friend whom she had thought innocent of the horrifying crimes.

“I have no idea,” she shrugged. “No one’s reported anything suspicious lately. Kesritae says the borders have been pretty secure, besides that one drunk incident last month. Maybe they’re announcing that Maishear’s finally lost it.”

Cameron ran a hand through his coarse black hair, trimmed short, his shoulders shrugging loosely. He had gotten over her calling her father by his name, but he didn’t want to fight her for what she saw the man to be.

He redirected his attention to the other members, most of the seats now full, but many still coming in. He recognized all of them, their small community leading to familiarity he hadn’t seen while living beside humans years before. He could see Kesritae in her seat in the front row, her curly auburn hair making her easy to find. Though he couldn’t see her face, the tight way she was holding her shoulders, her chin up in defiance, did not help the unease he felt about this situation.

Many saw the young woman as their rightful queen, though her father’s abdication from the royal line back in the homeland made that impossible. She had still managed to work her way to being their military tactician, their general to look to. Many had doubted her, as only one other royal had held such a position. The years had hardened her soft soul, the attack leaving scars on her as it had all of them, but it was the murder of her sister, Roselle, another victim to the killer, that had finally turned her turquoise eyes cold enough to cut through stone.

Finally, all members were seated, only a low murmuring filling the space as they waited. No less than ten seconds later, the headmaster closed the chamber doors with an echoing slam, his large figure making his way calmly down the steps. He could hear Amber’s snort beside him at her father’s obvious show of a relaxed state. Even he could see, from the way he clenched his hands together behind his back, that he wasn’t nearly as composed as he was attempting to portray.

He moved to his desk without a word, his golden eyes scanning across the small crowd that had gathered in front of him. Maishear, their leader in the darkest times. Former right-hand man to the hero Seniar Ocoltha, one of the most recognized and heroic generals, and royals, in recent history. No matter what Amber thought of her father, he couldn’t help but admire the man’s accomplishments. He had gone to such lengths to protect their remaining people and cultures, his telepathic abilities allowing him to understand his followers' challenges better than anyone.

“Thank you for coming in today,” he spoke smoothly in their traditional tongue, the language of the old capital. “As you are aware, I do not make it a habit of mine to gather you in such haste, but I assure you that this is justified.” He stood, barely moving as he spoke. “This morning, I received an urgent message from my son.”

Cameron heard Amber stiffen in her seat, while he sat forward, waiting to hear the news of his commander and friend.

“It appears,” the headmaster continued. “That in his… gallivanting, he has discovered something we had thought to have been long gone. His reports describe a man matching the description of Seniar Ocoltha in- '' He was cut off by voices erupting from around the room, Cameron froze in his seat at this news. “In the company,” Maishear raised his voice, persisting as the noise died back down. “Of a teenage girl that matches his daughter Allenesaia Ophelie.”

Silence.

Cameron didn’t immediately recognize the name, but he had already begun piecing together whom he was speaking of. He remembered his mother telling him of the shame of the royal family, and rumors of a monster among their ranks. It was thought that every member of Seniar’s branch had been wiped out in the attack, though no bodies had ever been found.

“I have called upon you now to determine our course of action on this matter,” the headmaster leaned forward over his desk, palms flat against the dark wood. “Especially with the girl at that age, we must decide quickly to avoid potentially disastrous consequences. I immediately open the floor by proposing we follow the old council’s verdict. The girl is too dangerous and should be taken care of per this judgment.”

“I place the opposition.”

The entire chamber leaned forward in anticipation at who had stood up to Maishear, the woman’s black hair and deep tan complexion making her identity clear, Amber let out a gasp at her mother’s action.

Maishear’s eyes were sharp as he looked at his sunairan, his sworn companion. “What is your stance?” His voice was measured, though his hands curled into fists on the desktop.

“I say we need more information in this situation,” Mesaiad proclaimed, her contradicting icy white, and reddish-brown eyes flashing. “We don’t have any idea of the nature of this girl, or exactly how powerful she is becoming. I refuse to give a death sentence to a child we know nothing about.”

“She was determined to be dangerous when she was an infant,” the headmaster raised an eyebrow, pushing off the desk to stand straight. “How is the situation any different now?”

“I must point out that she has been raised under the guidance of Seniar Ocoltha,” Mesaiad reminded them all. “I would go to argue that if anyone would tame such a ‘danger’ as you call her, it would be him. The man that we,” she shot a look at Maishear. “And many others knew, would never allow for such a volatile nature in anyone, much less his own daughter.”

“Maybe not purposefully,” Maishear opposed, golden eyes narrowed. “Yet, we also can’t assume that Seniar is the same man we knew then. None of us are the same as we were before, along with thirteen years unaccounted for. As he would be our rightful king, he has gone against his responsibility and sworn duties already.”

That point caused ripples to spread through the council, all eyes daring to look at Kesritae, who had continued to sit in silence. It was as though they weren’t discussing the fate of one of her only living relatives; the conversation had nothing to do with her.

“It is only reasonable to answer these questions by getting a better hold of this situation,” Mesaiad hardly seemed fazed. “I would go to say that Seniar staying away is strictly for his daughter’s safety, as he would know this is our first response to her survival.”

The headmaster didn’t have a comeback, instead standing with a stony expression on his face. “Please discuss among yourselves and prepare to bring forward your judgment.”

Cameron pulled his paper for the vote from the table before him, his decision written out in his bold, unmistakable handwriting. He had made his choice before the arguments had even started, the idea that one’s fate can be chosen in this manner was abhorrent. The girl had no specific charge or threat to her name, only the vague possibility of such a thing. He turned to Amber to tell her so, stopping when he saw the pale look on her face.

“Are you okay?” He furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

She nodded, wordlessly, her eyes locked on her mother. “I am,” her voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper. Her hand shook as she reached for her paper, quickly scribbling her answer in a smaller, messier print.

He watched her with narrowed eyes, curious about her change in behavior. Amber was always strange, in fact, all three of the headmaster’s children had some level of strangeness to them, but this was different from what he had seen before. She looked like she had just seen a ghost, and for the life of him, Cameron couldn’t figure out why.

Yes, the topic was much grimmer than most of the council’s decisions, but the setup and tone were no different. The only reason he could begin to see affecting her was the fact that it was her parents going against each other, though he wasn’t sure if she even saw them as her parents anymore.

“Which way are you voting?” She didn’t look at him even as she asked the question, her dark eyes unfocused. Her voice was softer than he was used to from her, a distant quality to it that picked at his nerves.

“I’m opposed,” he murmured, his gaze trying to find more clues to her sudden distress.

“Me too,” she lowered her face, swallowing. “Either way, I guess it means that he’ll be coming back then.”

“Yeah,” Cameron couldn’t help the image of the siblings’ last meeting from returning. “Elaine should be happy about that.”

The humorless laugh she let out chilled his blood, the telltale reddish tone to her brown eyes present when she finally looked at him. “I hope so,” the tone held none of the warmth Cameron knew she had for her sister. “And you’ll finally be set free from your extra responsibilities?”

“Yes,” he said simply. As the most senior member of their observance, it had been his responsibility to step up in their leader’s absence, a position he had turned down after Amber had left. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do the job, but that he held no desire to be in such a position. His actions had been in vain, as it was only a few weeks later that he had taken his place on the council, followed by his temporary leadership not long after.

“That will be nice for you,” she had begun to grind her teeth, her fingers flexing in and out of a fist at her side. He recognized the gesture, the sudden urge to find a fire extinguisher rising in his gut.

“Amber,” the warning was clear in his voice as he met her intense gaze. “Maybe you should take a break.”

He was surprised to see that there was no anger in her eyes when she stared back, instead, there was only fear and despair he could barely understand. “I’m fine,” she assured him.

He raised an eyebrow at that, while his thoughts were lost in trying to figure out why she was acting like this.

“What do you think of the king still being alive?” She redirected the conversation, her eyes darting to look back to the front.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, humoring her. “I can hardly remember what it was like before.”

She hummed in agreement. Both of them had only been five or six at the time of the attack, blurs of memories and stories were all that remained. He would never forget the suffocating aura of death he had on that night, the memory of the muddled gold and silver eyes of a woman staring down at him. He had been in the Wotakouran capital with his family when the screams had started, his father and a few other teleporters opening gateways for them to escape. It was the last he had seen of him; he could only assume that he had died along with the millions of others that populated the homeland.

“A Hecathian with more power than any other,” She mused. “One would think she would be celebrated.”

“It’s only natural that one fears what they cannot control,” Cameron pointed out. “And if she’s as powerful as the rumors say, it could get ugly fast.”

“But to kill a baby?” She turned back to him, doubtful.

“She’s not a baby anymore.”

“Not the point,” she huffed. “But can you imagine if she hadn’t been born into the Verairacur family? She would have died straight out of the womb.”

“I don’t think it would have made too much of a difference since she was assigned to be destroyed anyway.” He shrugged, lifting the pen off the desk to hold it between his fingers.

“I guess,” the frown was back on her face, her eyes darting to where her mother was seated in the front. “She was lucky the attack happened when it did, huh.”

The signature bang from the headmaster’s desk sent the room back into silence. Cameron looked at the man, unease stirring in his stomach at the stiff way he was holding himself. Maishear already had the determination of the council, his telepathic ability allowing him to see the members’ opinions. It was only tradition that led the members in the front to stand and bring their votes forward to place in one of the two boxes: one for, one against.

Cameron waited for his turn to stand, holding his vote tightly in his hand. He watched as the row in front of him rose to their feet, solemn in their path to the front. All too soon, they stood, his feet heavy on the steps down.

As he placed his vote, he tried to see the leaning of judgment, but the levels were too even to tell. He returned to his seat; his hands folded in front of him on the desk as he waited for the rows behind him to complete their journey.

Amber sank back into the chair next to him with a grim look returning on her face. She was deep in thought about something, though not the decision that was being made. 

The two members appointed to the responsibility of counting were quick in their work, conversing for only a few moments before one nodded.

“With a close margin, the final decision on this matter will be delayed as the opposed have requested. The girl is to be observed here before her fate is chosen.” Maishear’s voice held hardly any inflection as he spoke the words, his golden eyes narrowed and focused on the front row. “Kenesul Roiel.”

Cameron sat up at his native name, his heart jolting in his chest. “Yes sir,” he projected loud enough for his voice to echo slightly in the chamber.

“As you are currently covering my son’s responsibilities, it is your responsibility to retrieve him and the others he has discovered along with your… observance.” The headmaster’s eyes burned into him expectantly.

“Yes sir,” Cameron bowed his head, holding back a wince at the subtle jab at the state of their team.

“In my son’s company, you will find the girl, as well as three others. You have until next midweek to bring them here, along with any family who is willing to return to our ways. Seniar will be dealt with separately from this matter.”

“Understood,” he fought against the urge to sink back into his chair as the man looked away.

“You are all dismissed,” with that, Maishear stalked back up the stairs, all but throwing the chamber doors open when he passed through them.

Conversation immediately exploded in the room, some excited, while others reflected the obvious disappointment of the headmaster. Cameron sat in silence, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind.

“So,” Amber’s voice was low when she spoke. “My brother’s coming back.”