The Parallels

We had not been the first to seek out Lucent, and for that reason, he created the shell as a sort of test. He’d never lost faith in the return of Arthin, and even after his passing, swore to his remaining children that she’d one day return. After showing us more of the underwater oasis they’d created following the Great Purge, Darius and I retired to our shared quarters while Arthin and Maira caught up, promising to join us again at dinner.

Our quarters consist of a shared living space that houses ample bookshelves mostly filled with tattered maps and a few worn books. A seating area of comfortable blue chairs surrounds a wooden table with coral legs. I fall into an oversized chair that looks out onto the ocean. The last of the day’s sunlight bounces off the coral reef, creating a prism of vibrant reds and deep blues.

I follow a school of finger-sized yellow fish until I hear Darius enter and drop his belongings onto the table. He flops down into the chair next to me, neither of us saying a word to each other. I suspect this is the first bit of silence either of us had in a long time. I let my thoughts ebb and flow as gently as the water. I’m not sure how long I’m lost in the ocean’s rhythm because when I turn to Darius, he’s asleep. His head rests on the side of the chair, and a piece of hair has come loose from the rest, lying carelessly over his eyes. He looks no older than Erique. My eyes come to rest on his full lips that are parted ever so slightly. I trace my fingers against my own thinking about the kiss and the vibrations that hummed along his lips. Only when Darius snores loudly do I notice Arthin watching us.

“Rest easy.” She crosses to his chair and rests her hand on his shoulder. “May you know only good dreams.” She looks to me. “Come.” She starts walking toward the door. I rise and follow her to our suite, leaving Darius asleep in front of the ocean.

Arthin props herself up on the numerous pillows filling each boat that’s been refurbished into a bed. The mattress is surprisingly soft and comfortable, holding me as if I was floating in the sea. I drape a velvet blanket around me and shimmy down into the pillows, wishing I could disappear beneath them.

“Arthin, there’s something I haven’t told you, something I still haven’t figured out.”

She turns. “What is it?”

“Miriam said she couldn’t see into my dreams.”

“Because of your shield,” she adds.

“Right.” I hesitate. “But the night she disappeared somehow, she did, and that’s how I took her magic. It’s how I was able to enter the dreamweave.” Arthin sits up quickly.

“Tell me about this dream.” Something about the way she says it makes me nervous.

“I was sitting by the lake and then she was behind me.” Miriam’s face flashes in my mind. “She said that I needed to wake you up.” Arthin leans forward, listening intently, “I had trouble hearing her because of the noise.”

“What noise?” she asks.

“It reminded me of the vibrations that come from this.” I hold up my wrist where the cassiterite bracelet rests.

“Cassiterite,” she breathes. “How did you come by this?”

I tell her about my village and Oreya. I find myself talking too much about my kin, but she lets me. After I finish, she says nothing for a few minutes, only observes me.

Finally, she asks. “When you saw Miriam, you said you also felt similar vibrations?”

I nod. “Ay, but only stronger. Then Miriam said there wasn’t much time and the vibrations grew stronger and louder. They tuned her out entirely before I awoke.” I touch my palms together. “It was like the vibrations that magic gives off.”

Arthin raises her eyebrows, and given everything that’s happened, I get the feeling sensing magic isn’t normal.

“It feels like lightning.” I struggle to put it into words. “Like a low buzzing fills the air, then works its way through me.”

She folds her hands together contemplatively before speaking. “How long have you felt this?” She asks.

“For as long as I can remember,” I say. “But they’ve been growing stronger these last few years.” Since I started having nightmares about a man with golden eyes.

“And back at the post, did you feel something similar when you used magic?”

“Before I used it.” I touch the spot right above my heart. “When Oz,” I stammer, “when he fell to the ground. I felt it then.” I don’t close my eyes this time, afraid that the gentle reprieve of darkness will be too alluring to return from.

Arthin rises and comes to rest by the edge of the bed. She touches my palms. “Those scars will fade with time.” From her tone, I know she’s not just talking about the physical ones. She smiles solemnly. “I think there’s more to your story than I thought. If Miriam couldn’t enter your dreams, then wherever you saw her was not a dream at all.”

“What do you mean wherever?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“I’m not entirely certain myself, but I hope to find answers for us both.” She lingers by me for just a moment before rising and walking towards the door. “But for now, rest if you can. Our journey is just beginning.” And with that, she leaves.

I sink down into the bed and wrap a velvety blanket tightly around me. Just when I was beginning to think I was close to discovering what exactly my magic is, I suddenly feel as though the truth couldn’t be further from me.

After a few hours rest, I make my way back to the center chamber. The driftwood table has been decorated with pillar candles that fill the room with a warm glow. Outside, the ocean is entirely dark except for the occasional silver streams of moonlight that pierce through the water. I’m the first to arrive, and feel altogether underdressed when Darius enters wearing black pants that taper at the ankle and a cobalt blue shirt. I, on the other hand, am still clad in my mangy brown tunic that Arthin gave to us upon arrival. He looks at me and smiles, the dark circles under his eyes gone for the moment. There’s a quiet peace I find in seeing him rested.

“Where were you keeping that?” I point to his clean clothes.

“It was on lying on my bed after I returned from washing.” He looks at my plain brown outfit, which also happens to smell faintly of fish. “Maybe you should just sit, at least you’re a bit hidden that way.”

He laughs again, and at this moment I want nothing more than to hear him do it again. My gaze lingers a little too long on his face, so I turn away, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Well,” I take the wine decanter from the middle of the table and sit down, “some of us weren’t taken prisoner, poisoned, and nearly killed, twice.” I pour myself a glass, smugly smiling as he takes his seat.

He leans in close enough for me to smell the evergreen and wood smoke smell that clings to his skin. “And here I thought you’d lost your sense of humor.” His smile is dazzling.

The main doors open and in walks the magistrate and Rhenei. Darius’s lips draw into a thin line, though he rises and meets them. Rhenei welcomes him warmly, but the magistrate takes a seat at the end of the table, staring ahead stoically and ignoring us all together. Maira and Arthin are the last to arrive.

Maira wears a gown that flows like water—it may even be made of water for all I know. Her form-fitting coral top flows into a tinted-blue skirt that billows down to the floor. If she is the ocean, then Arthin is the moon shining upon it. Her dress varies between silver and bronze, depending on how she moves. Her hair is loosely pinned atop her head, which only elongates her graceful frame. No one has seemed to notice my casual attire, and if they do, they’re kind enough not to mention it. The doors on the far side of the room open and the waiters set down two large trays of food in front of us. The first tray holds tiny shells. Darius and I stare at each other confused. Arthin notices our puzzled exchange.

“They’re mussels!” she says delightedly. “They’re a common food here.” She pushes the tray toward us. “You’ll adore them.”

I turn to Darius, who shrugs and takes one. Mirroring Arthin, he tilts his head back, and the wet-looking substance slides into his mouth. I do the same, instantly wishing I had a dozen more.

“Arthin,” I eat another mussel, “how do you know Maira?”

“Perhaps I can answer that question.” Maira smiles wickedly at Arthin, who nods in approval. “My father came to Lanel as a young man and fell in love with a beautiful Lanelian woman. They married, and he settled here in Lanel, never returning to Faren. During his life here in Lanel, he and my mother became close friends with Arthin. They met during . . .” she looks at Arthin mischievously, “where did you meet again?”

Arthin laughs. “Let’s save that story for another time,” she says with a wink.

Maira continues. “During the next fifty years, Arthin traveled throughout Lanel, working alongside the other Primaries as an apprentice, but they all managed to remain close friends.” She gestures to the same shell Arthin was presented with this morning, which now sits in the middle of the table. “They sent messages to each other almost every day. After the Breaking and the death of my mother, both Arthin and my father went into hiding, and that shell remained silent, unused for nearly seventy years.” She takes Arthin’s hand in her own. “Before he died, my father told me that a time would come when the remaining Primaries would need to find strength in unity once again. After the Great Purge, he realized that others would come in search of our bloodline, but the only one we could truly trust was Arthin. He placed a curse on that shell so that only Arthin would hear his message and discover that the Faren Primary bloodline was still alive here in Lanel.”

“Was he right? Were there others that came in search of you?” Darius asks.

A shadow crosses her face. “There were.”

“And what happened to them?”

“If they made it through the courtyard and into the tavern,” she smiles at Arthin, “then we presented them with the shell.” She takes a long sip of wine before continuing. “Remember that physiologically, mages and inerts are nearly the same. Our bodies are nearly all water.” She falls silent.

Darius raises his eyebrow. “And…?” he asks.

“And what does my family control?”

Suddenly, I regret eating so many mussels as the implication of what Maira’s saying hits me.

Her charming smile turns vicious. “If anyone but Arthin came in search of his family, my father made sure the curse took every drop of water from their body.”

The room goes quiet, and I assume most are picturing what I am imagining. I shake the images from my mind.

The magistrate breaks the uneasy silence. “I was ready to have my soldiers clean up another, but it seems that the infamous Arthin has returned.” His contempt is audible. I catch an uneasy look pass between him and Maira before he rises unexpectedly. “I must attend to some matters above ground.” He turns to us and bows. “Excuse me.” Before we’ve bid him goodnight, we hear the door click shut.

“Forgive me,” Maira says. “After all this time, he had thought you’d abandoned us, abandoned father. The magistrate served at his side until his death,” she pauses, “and when my father passed, he took it the worst.”

Arthin rests her hand atop Maira’s. “I will speak with him later,” she offers, “it’s the least I can do.”

“I think that would give him great comfort.” Maira waves her hand, and the next course is laid out in front of us. By the time we’ve eaten what I can only assume is most of the aquatic life in the ocean, I feel full and look forward to a restful night’s sleep a thousand feet below the surface. But Maira has other plans. “So,” she says leaning back in her chair, “shall we discuss our strategy for finding, convincing, and unifying members of a bloodline that your brother hunted and slaughtered? Or, should we just drink?”

To my surprise, Arthin laughs at her honesty. I join in to avoid conveying my growing annoyance with her. Something about her doesn’t rest well with me as my bracelet hasn’t stopped humming since our arrival. Arthin lounges lazily in her chair. After being locked away in her mind for all that time, I can tell she’s happy to be around living, breathing people. Darius, on the other hand, doesn’t even try to conceal his tiredness and nods off every few moments.

“After the Great Purge, I’d heard rumors that the remaining kin of the Saritite Primary fled to Bearmoor,” Arthin says to Maira.

Maira nods her head. “And that’s where they’ve roamed ever since.”

“Roamed?” I ask.

“You’ve never heard stories about Bearmoor?” Maira asks.

“I have,” I say. “But folk know that no one can actually live there.”

“And why’s that?” Maira asks before taking a sip of wine. Given the flush in her cheeks and the loose way she’s holding her cup, I’d say she’s had a few sips too many.

“The Embry roam those mountains. They’ll hunt and kill anything with a heartbeat.” Everyone grew up hearing about the wild ways of the Saritite Primary

Maira smiles, and I want to wipe her sparkling grin from her face. “Do you even know what the Saritite Primary was known for?” Darius, save the Mire, has finally roused himself from sleep and interjects.

“They’re as wild as the animals by now,” he says lightly. He touches my hand under the table, perhaps afraid I still have some fire left to burn off. “More wine?” He extends the pitcher to me.

“We’ll need their help of course,” Arthin interjects.

“Good luck with that. We’ll be lucky if they’ll take a meeting with us,” Darius says.

For someone who was just asleep, Darius seems to have heard everything. He sets down the decanter and touches his temple quickly before tucking a loose strand of his dark hair behind his ear. He and Arthin had been communicating this whole time. Damn my shield.

Arthin smiles and nods her head. “Oh, if I know the Embry, they’ll find you first.”

That gets our attention.

“You’re not coming?” We ask in unison.

“You and Darius will travel to Bearmoor tomorrow,” Arthin says plainly. “If anything should go wrong, you can use the transference stone and come right back here.”

Darius stares intently at Arthin. I wish I knew what they were saying. He clenches his jaw ever so slightly then immediately relaxes it.

“The Embry are wild but harmless; same goes for the remaining Saritite blood ties. They’ve lived in Bearmoor since the Breaking, and will be happy to have some outside company—it keeps them human,” Maira says casually, clearly enjoying the wine too much to notice the silent conversation going on between Arthin and Darius. “Well, as human as they can be,” she finishes.

“And where will you be, Arthin?” I don’t bother hiding my agitation

Sensing my frustration, she explains. “I’m going to try and find you some long overdue answers.”

My anger quiets, and I remind myself that Arthin is not the enemy, the unknown on the other hand, very well could be. If I didn’t find out more about the magic flowing through my veins before we faced Blackthorne, then something like the fire in the tunnels could happen all over again but this time it could consume us all.

Long after the ocean darkens, and the wine carafes empty, do we finally make our way back to our quarters, leaving Maira and Arthin quietly sharing memories of a time we never knew.

“Darius?” He pauses in the doorway. “Do you think we have a chance, reuniting the remaining Primaries?” It’s not like me to doubt myself, but I had been trained to fight with weapons, not with magic.

“More than a chance I’d say,” Darius says. “They’re bound to listen after they know about your magic. And if not and we face Blackthorne alone, it’s not like that shield of yours will let anyone in anyway.”

“No, I guess not.” My voice drops; I was hoping for more reassurance.

He turns from the doorway and closes the distance between us. “When I realized you’d have to break the dreamweave, I didn’t think you’d return. I’ve heard tales about even the most powerful mages turning wild and getting lost in a dreamweave.” His voice drops to almost a whisper. “You are stronger, stronger than most I’ve encountered. I can’t begin to imagine what will happen when you focus your magic and learn to wield it.” His eyes soften and hold me in their gaze.

He’s so close that I feel the heat coming off him. Neither of us moves toward our rooms, and I’m about to say something more when I hear the chamber door open. Arthin stands in the doorway. I turn back to Darius, but he’s already gone. Only the click of the lock fills the silence.