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I could listen to Aeinya talk about her adventure with magic and life in Spryv all day. Their training was done differently there, in Turin we focused on fighting and war, there they worked with their magic and helped others. As a vio, Aeinya often found herself moving land and tilling soil.
“So, you flooded a village?” I said through a mouthful of cake, sending crumbs everywhere. Aeinya laughed harder.
“Yes! But don’t worry, they were glad for the extra water and so helpful as I built the new berm. Poor Carry was exhausted though.” She nodded back to her Catalyst, handing her one of the remaining cakes. Carry grinned and took it, the two of them toasting the delicacy like they were mugs of brew before they took a bite.
“Delicious!” They said in tandem before giggling. Someone in the kitchen gasped and Carry shoved the rest of the cake in her mouth before returning to her post, Aeinya rolling her eyes in clear frustration.
Everything was different in Spryv, starting with the fact that Catalysts got to keep, and use, their names.
“Catalysts can get tired?” I quirked an eyebrow. I had never heard that in all my years of spying on the trainings, although it was possible I missed something. Hell, I hadn’t even known about evening gowns until a few days ago.
Aeinya nodded, “Yes, they are a conduit to your power, and it can be exhausting work. That’s why touch is important, if they get tired it gets harder to reach that connection, but touch will always reinstate it.”
I nodded again, that I knew. I had seen it both in Batian when he would spar with the soldiers, and with Father and Uncle Jahn before Aeinya’s arrival. The way my Uncle Jahn was touching Father’s hand was almost like he was healing him.
Healing him from the hours spent away from him, reconnecting their magic. Lðt. The white light of the Ramal… and the same as what had flown from my hand.
I nearly choked on the blueberry scone as I made the connection, that line of white fire shimmering over my skin as I watched it in my mind’s eye.
“So, technically, I still have magic, I simply have no conduit to access it.” I spoke through my coughing, staring ahead as that line of light shot through my mind again and again.
“Yes,” Aeinya spoke as slowly, looking at her Catalyst before leaning in to me. “But you can’t access it without a Catalyst, Elara. For all I know it will fizzle out and die inside of you without a way out.”
Or, I would die if you believed my Mother. Or, it would find a different way out. I took another bite, if only to stop myself from saying something I would regret.
“Your magic, Elara… it’s…”
“I know, I know,” I mumbled, waving the scone to the side. I had heard it all before, it had been beaten into me, and yet I clearly hadn’t dreamed last night up. “I just wish it wasn’t. Then maybe mother would see me as anything other than sick and useless.” I gave a fake cough there, which sent Aeinya laughing again.
I really didn’t want to care what Queen Dalyah thought of me, but no matter how hard I tried to push it away there would always be that part that wanted to impress her. Wanted to show her exactly what I was.
So, I guess I did care.
“Don’t make me remind you what you are, Elara.” Aeinya pointed her finger, pulling me out of my depressive spiral. “You’re strong and powerful in other ways. You are stronger than most Requisites I know, even without your magic. Don’t let your mother and her foolish expectations define you, don’t let her dampen that bright light inside you. Not that you ever have.” She winked and leaned in again, gesturing for me to mirror the movement until we both leaned over the table, scones and cakes in hand as she whispered conspiratorially.
“You still training to fight?” I doubt even Carry could hear with how low she spoke.
“Yes,” I whispered back, suddenly concerned about where this was going. “But I am not going to fight my mother.” Even if I could control whatever happened last night that would not be a good idea.
“No, no, that would be foolish. But there might be another way to show her what you can do. To show everyone and stop those rumors once and for all.”
Her smile spread, still leaning over the table.
“What way? Short of fighting her I don’t see an option to show her what I can do.” That would be a very bad idea. For all I knew I’d find myself locked in my room again, and now that my mother’s Catalyst knew of my secret exit I would truly be stuck there.
Bad idea.
“Three nights from now there will be a welcome feast once the last family from Syran arrives. We eat, and then–”
“The Pankreatin,” I filled in the blank for her as I sat up, eyes wide, my stomach instantly turning into a nest of tiny knots. “Are you mad?”
I had said that far too loud and Aeinya shushed me, pulling me back down to the table and thoroughly ignoring all of the kitchen staff who, while they had been giving us side glances the whole time we were down there, were openly staring now. Even a boy with sandy hair stopped his sweeping to stare.
“Not mad. But think about it, The Pankreatin would be perfect.”
“Perfect if I wanted to die,” I countered, she rolled her eyes.
“Don’t be dramatic. You won’t die.” I fixed her with a look that made it clear I knew how inaccurate that statement was.
