He looks between the two of us again, and as he nods and walks away, guilt swirls in my stomach at dousing his enthusiasm and support.
“Come on then.”
My heart skips a little as Ten beckons me with the tilt of his head.
“Now?”
“You’ve got, what, two days? I’m surprised you’ve waited this long. Come on.” A flash of heat rolls over me, but I tamp it down, not wanting to show Ten how much that comment annoys me. It’s his indifference that’s kept me from asking, nothing more, and he made it more than clear that the Transference, at least his, wasn’t an open topic for conversation. However, even with his warning, I want to share this with him. The urge to find the details of what it will be like and the need to know what I’m going to face beyond the generic ‘you’ll get your magic from Aslendrix’ line that everyone tells me is like a burning sensation in my chest. This way, I can find another piece to help build my puzzle and spend time bridging the gap that’s opened between me and Ten.
I’ll leave him to offer his experience when it’s time. This is for me.
“Is it far?” I set off after him, catching up to his long stride, with a new hope in my step.
“Not really. It’s a clearing just outside the border of the forest, in sight of the mountains and before you reach the edge of the lake. There’s an ancient plinth there. We all gather?—”
“Everyone?” I want to get back to the thought of seeing those places I’d seen sketched on the map, but the realisation that I’ll have an audience extinguishes the excitement building inside of me.
“Well, the members of The Chamber, trainees, and anyone else who wants to pay witness. It’s a custom to welcome another person under Aslendrix’s protection. Usually, it’s a gathering of people from The Court and a way of celebrating.”
“It’s so odd hearing you talk about the moon as someone.”
He grins. “Not just someone. A Goddess.” His voice sounds reverent. Awed. And then it’s gone. “Preparations start at moonrise. The Transference takes place when Aslendrix reaches her apex.”
“So, in the middle of the night?”
“Well, during the night, yes. Many of our traditions happen under the cover of darkness.” His grin grows, and my cheeks respond with a flush, pleased that the connection between us is still there.
I follow as he leads me past the entrance of The Court and the sprawl of the Naturals living outside the stone wall. It’s the furthest I’ve stepped foot since being here.
There’s a faint path that weaves past the edge of the Variscite Forest. The trees look peaceful, glistening in the light, and to the other side of our track is the ever-present dominance of the mountains.
The quiet grows, and the further away we travel from Court, the more at peace I feel. Like the questions consuming me don’t weigh so much here.
Colours are brighter, clearer, filling me with hope at their beauty, and every step forward feels purposeful and true. It’s almost magical.
The silence grows, only the sounds from the birds and the breeze disturbing the trees, but I want to hear Ten’s voice. I want him to talk to me and be open and free like we were under the stars that night before everything got so strained.
“It’s further than I thought,” I cave.
“Perhaps. Do you want to turn back?” he asks.
“No. Of course not. I’m enjoying seeing more of Kirrasia.”
“Calix and I used to hunt in the forest, usually south of the stream. Or climb the mountain’s foothills.” He sounds nostalgic.
I look out into the shapes and forms of the trees, the depth of darkness growing after walking only a few trees deep. A shiver runs over my skin as I imagine playing in the dark.
“What’s on the other side of the forest?” I ask, thinking back to the map.
“The ocean. There’s a coastline that’s rough and rugged. Not many go there, and it’s more than a full day’s trek to the other side.”
“Let me guess, something you used to do as a child?”
He grins back at me, and for a moment, I can picture a younger Aten Ciro, afraid of nothing. “Sort of. Spending dusk and night in the forest isn’t for the faint of heart. But we were kids and didn’t like to back down from a challenge.” The grin morphs into a cocky smirk, and my eyes slip to his lips. “The forest is a place of myth and memory and magic.”
As if answering him, a cool breeze carrying salt in the air stirs around me, picking up and blowing strands of my hair around my face. It chills my skin, and I struggle to think of anything that would make me volunteer to navigate through that forest. Mythical or not.
“We have forests. Or at least I thought we did until I saw these. It’s more woodland in comparison. Our house is far on the outskirts of our village, on the edge of a glen.” I was never fearful there. It was home and familiar. I knew the shapes and hidden paths only trodden by me or Lyle, and they were not like this place.
