A bell echoed in the distance. Its chime, banging every three seconds, was followed by a long and slow hum. It was the only sound in the dining room, drowned in a silverily glow. A family of ten was seated in the long, round table, etched with golden markings.
And as the bell continued to wash over them, they all held their hands joined in prayer. All but one looked like blurry shadows blending in the silvery light. The one, young girl with olive coloured hair.
The tallest figure in the table seperated its palms as soon as the bell’s final chime faded into silence. “Let us be well,” he announced, “today, tomorrow, and beyond.”
In sync, everyone repeated the same prayer and seperated their hands.
Then, this figure, almost as tall as a tower, turned its neck to this one young girl. “You didn’t say it right. Be louder next time, or your prayer won’t be heard.”
Several of the other shadows grew glowing smirks. “She can’t do anything right, father.”
“She is useless!”
“She burned a huge hole in the floor today.”
“Yeah, yeah! And yesteryday.”
“Our keeper had to patch it up. But it didn’t look right. It will never look right, he said.”
The young girl’s palm tensed. “No, father. He said—“
“Liar. You’re a liar!”
“A big liar.”
“All of which you say are lies!”
A loud, womanly voice cut through the cacophony. “Silence!” She shouted. “I will hear no more over dinner. Do not disrespect the lord with your quarrels.”
The bright, glowning smirks vanished, replaced with little frowns and yet more silence. Everyone resumed their supper. Everyone but that one little girl.
And the loud woman, the entire time, watched over her silence. Today, tomorrow, and beyond. Day by day, she became thinner and thinner.
The loud woman, with that one little girl by her side, discussed with the heavily robed witch. “You will correct her appetite,” she demanded, “And for that, you will be rewarded handsomely.”
The witch looked at the little girl, casting her long face at the floor. She turned back to the woman slowly shook her head, capped with a pointy hat. “That I cannot do.”
“You will,” shouted the woman. “It is not a request, but a demand. You must realize who I am.”
“And you must realize that it is a matter of practicallity, not will. This child is not physically ill.” The witch toned her voice heavily. “The problem exist within her psyche.”
The days and the months rolled. The child, standing before that same tall, shadowy figure, had her body tense and straight. She brought her palms close and formed a ball of twitching fire. The ball grew larger, more deformed, before it imploded and sent the girl flying towards a wall with her back.
Her spine cracked and pain surged through her body as she slid flat on the floor. The burning sun rayed clear through the sky before it became obstructed by that tall shadow’s eyeless glare. In the background, a mixture of laughter followed.
“You are no good,” said the shadow. “You will never be any good even with me training you. You’re cursed with inability. You bring shame to our family.”
The girl’s tears rolled down the scorching pavement. “It hurts. My back hurts.”
The shadow shook its head and turned to someone. “Heal her at once. We will try again then.”
“No, please. No more! No more!” She cried. “I don’t like magic. I like… I like… I like m—“
Before she could finish her sentence, she was kicked in the side by a powerful spell that sent her rolling. “I will hear no more! My daughter must master my own magic style. It cannot be any other way. How else will you pass it to your children otherwise?”
The witch, kneeled before the little girl, ran her hand over her scratched up forehead. Her eyes then narrowed. “She is a hard worker. That is for sure. It is not her problem.”
“What is her problem then?” The loud woman demanded to know. “Her siblings advance rapidly with half the work.”
Without an answer, she stood up and shook her head. “I am not sure.”
“You’re never sure! How dare you name yourself the greatest healer of the country?”
“Calm down. I am not without answers.” She went and removed a hardback from her wall-sized library. It had a cross etched in gold in the center. “This is a record of what I have encountered through the years. If you review it, you will see that it isn’t the first time I have come across this problem.”
“Yes, and? What is your point?”
“It’s a rare syndrome with no name.” The witch looked at the girl, who for the first, time looked at her back with wide eyes. “It cannot be healed, and it cannot be treated. You will hear this no matter where you go. Most aren’t even aware of its existance. It is of unknown origin and of unknown cause. In other words”—she paused—“I am afraid this child will never do magic. She should give up.”
The word give up loudly echoed. The witch faded in darkness, followed by an exchange of screaming that blended in both darkness and silence.
Her siblings then circled her. “You are magicless!” They chanted. “Magicless and powerless. You will die in an alley by yourself one day.”
“That’s right! Power is everything in this world! It’s eat or be eaten, kill or be killed! And you will be killed!”
“You’re prey!”
“Dead meat.”
“A lion without teeth and claws!”
The little girl covered her ears. She drowned them in the void of a darkness she rapidly sank into. Words, various words that she’s heard over the years, then echoed and stabbed her.
Useless.
Powerless.
Helpless.
Lost cause.
Lion without teeth and claws.
Dead meat.
Sick.
Naive.
Stupid.
And everything in between. Her father zoomed into view. “You must grow powerful. How else are you meant to survive in this cruel world? Everytime you fail, and everytime I make you cry over it, remember those words.”
She clamped her ears harder, shut her eyes tighter. “Then I don’t want to live in this world.” She tried to overcome their voices with theirs. “I just want to live in peace. If not, then I’ll just—“
“Olive! Wake up!”
Her dream became shattered by a shout. Ravenna stood before her, drenched in panic. Behind her, lights shifted closer and closer as a group of horses marched forward. “What’s this? What’s happening? I—“
“You fell asleep. They’re coming for us! We must wake Katara.”
Olive narrowed her eyes. Among those horses was one person whom she never wanted to see again: Araspeth.
Her body froze solid. “That’s not… good.”
Ravenna looked outwards to the approaching laterns. “I know. We must act quickly.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Olive shook her rapidly. “We’re screwed. We’re screwed. We’re not stronger than them. We’re weaker. We’re done. The weak can’t defeath the strong.”
“Don’t say that!” Ravenna pulled her into standing position. “We may not be strong, but we can out smart them. Never say never. Now, quick!” she said, but Olive didn’t move a pinch. Her feet trembled and she started to visibly sweat.
Before anything more could be said or done, a ball of fire sweeped through the cobalt sky. Ravenna rapidly analyzed its trajectory. It was heading straight for them. She grabbed Olive’s arm and pulled her by force. “It’s—“
The ball rapidly accelerated at hyper speeds. It hit the ground near them and exploded into a cloud of fire. Olive and Ravenna were pushed far into the ground from the shockwave. Farther away, Katara woke to the sight of a fireball and approaching horses—now mere meters away.
Araspeth and her crew assessed the scene. She had a large spear in her hand. Olive watched as she locked her eyes at her. The ball of fire burned brightly behind the smirking High Priestess. She wipped her jet-black horse and came forward to Olive, still frozen on the ground.
“Well, well…” she dismounted her horse. “Look at who we have here.”
Olive trembled in silence. She made no reply. In her head, this was the end of the road. Araspth was strong, and she weak. The shadowy figure briefly replaced her.
“The queen wishes to have your head,” she pointed her sharp spear at her. “So I must take it. Any last words, little miss?”
Last words? Olive’s body lost her tension. Her heart beat slowed down and she tilted her head to the side. There were no words to be had. Her life was nothing but a catalogue of bad memories.
But, something did flash in her mind. “Just… just don’t kill my friends. They’re not dangerous.”
Araspeth smiled. “I see how it is. What a good samaritan you’re. I am almost sad to do this to you but it must be done.” She readied her spear, which caught flashy fire. “If there is an afterlife, I hope you find peace. Goodbye.”
Peace. The word calmed her more than anything. The golden coast and the violin flashed through her mind. Is there peace somewhere beyond? Olive closed her eyes.
And then, Araspeth stabbed her.
Olive stood before a golden coast, wrapped in warm sunset colours. The sea waves rolled back and forth, almost reaching her feet. A warm, salty breeze ran through her, and she spread her arms to have more of it.
She lowered them and looked around the blurriness. As usual, only one portition was visible. The rest was buried in the depths of her memories.
A shadow stood behind her, holding a violin. A sea wave washed into the shore, louder than the others, and the shadow spoke. “Are you happy with this?”
Olive speechlessly lowered her head.
The shadow put its hand in her shoulders. “I’ve been watching your dreams. You want to find this place one day. You want to find the real identity behind this shadow.”
She nodded.
“But I am not that someone. You just can’t see my real form.”
The coast disappeared. Darkness envolved them. All of a sudden, a white-winged cat floated in front of her. “I am Yuuna, the spirit of light, and I reveal myself before you.”
Olive stared, then broke the silence. “Are you here to… take me?”
Yuuna shook her head. “That isn’t my job. Long ago, I simply brought light into the world. Since then, I’ve been watching over you humans, fightning and killing each other. It disgusts me. This world is beautiful. There is no reason to stain it.”
“I— I feel the same way!”
“Many have said so. I do not trust you. But there is something enticing about you. That human wasn’t wrong. Perhaps, you are a true follower of peace. You appear to want it more than anything. But—!” Yuuna shouted. “It might be so because you’re weak. Because you’re scared of the strong. If you were strong, would you still desire peace?”
Everything Olive saw, the latest set of memories, rolled over her mind in a single second. “Yes,” she said without hesitation, her face as solid as stone.
“So you say. But I do not trust you. I do not trust humans. Still, I think it’s a shame for you to die.” Yuuna extended her paw. “I will lend you my power. With it, you can escape. Hurry and join hands before I change my mind.”
Olive raised her hand and then stopped. “I-Is it gonna hurt?”
Yuuna stared with her jaw half dropped. “You’re strange. Just do it. A spear hurts a lot more!”
She extended her hand further and a ring of light enveloped both of them. Thus, for the first time in millenia, Yuuna joined with a human.
“There is something about you,” said Yuuna with her eyes closed. “Something in you. You can’t shape magic. You can create it but you can’t shape it. Yes, I clearly see the problem. You will never be able to use magic the way others do. But I will be compensating for that. You’ll use magic. My magic. You will now have control over Ether but you it will be long ways to go. You can’t defeat Araspeth but you can scare her off. Now, listen closely.” Yuuna opened her eyes. “This is what we have to do.”
Araspeth removed her spear from Olive’s heart. She stared at its blood-coated tip. Nobody can survive that. She looked down to Olive’s heart, expecting a pool of blood, only to find that she didn’t even have a scratch. There was only a hole in her clothing.
Then, something glowed brightly in Olive’s forehead. The light faded to reveal a symbol that represented a set of wings. At that exact moment, Araspeth’s smile faded completely and her eyes went wide.
She jumped several meters back and placed herself in a defensive position. Olive opened her eyes as if nothing ever happened and slowly rose back to her feet. Araspeth stabbed the ground with her spear and coated it in aggressive blue fire.
“You—!” She pumped even more Ether to assert her power. It made perfect sense then, the reason her mother seemed to favour her. Everything started to add up. Araspeth removed the spear and pointed at her. “You don’t scare me! I’ll kill you right now!”
Olive brought her palm close to her heart and clenched it. She then extended it slowly, forming a rod of light. Solid light. Araspeth, in all her years, had never seen anyone do that. Even with her advanced knowledge of magic, she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
