“Is Lyle?” I start, terrified that she won’t be there, and all of this will fail. It’s at the top of the list of my worries, next to having to touch that stone table again.
“Lyle will be there.”
The gentle release on my heart eases me. “Do I need to do anything?”
“No. This is your day. Your favourite food, drink, anything you want.” Kyra radiates excitement, and I try to find a similar emotion. But all I have is trepidation. Kyra skips out of the room to do whatever Kyra busies herself with and leaves me.
So, I set the dress ready on my bed and grab one of the books we borrowed from the library.
The pages are old and stained, with a musty smell from the decaying leaves. I’ve been reading about each Order, trying to understand the nuances of each one better, and it’s the turn of the Guard. Ten’s Order—perhaps the hardest to grasp, as their ability or magic is unique and varied. It’s less about physicality and more to do with the mind. Strategy, quick thinking, cunning, and instinct, all heightened and woven into their very being, using the latent powers they were born with as a road map of sorts.
Their documented powers all feel different to reading about the other Orders. They are subtle and less obvious, and I feel like I’m missing part of the code to decipher the true meaning and ability. Warriors are the easiest. Their powers all revolve around physical abilities of increased or improved strength. Speed, physical strength, and sight.
I shut the book and add it to the pile on the side table next to my things.
The teacup, the brooch, and the pebble. I pick up the quartz and rub it in my hand as I think about my old life in Estereah. These were my prized possessions—such small things that I was proud to have collected. They feel smaller here, like they aren’t as special, because everything in Kirrasia is different and spun with magic or riches.
Will I ever go back? Can I go back?
I’ll be a Kirrian—and maybe able to believe it. Not just accepted because of the power that’s erratically tearing at me. Or so Ten, Micah, and Kyra have all told me. I’ll have actual magic from a Goddess.
Yet, with every question answered, there’s more behind it, waiting to fall and crush me under its weight. I hope I can askLyle to explain all the gaps and holes in the world she’s brought me to.
Kyra keeps me occupied after she returns with more food and treats and insists on braiding my hair into an elaborate style for the ceremony. She weaves her fingers through my loose curls, taming strands and twisting them together. I’m stiff and can’t relax the whole time, waiting for something to happen—for her to graze my skin and render one of us unconscious. But her fingers work deftly, belaying her experience of working without the need for direct touch.
I couldn’t be more thankful.
Kyra helps me into the dress, which is far too beautiful. The attention to detail on the bodice puts anything I’ve ever seen before to shame. Secretly, I don’t want to have to take it off.
“It’s time,” Kyra announces.
“Wait, Lyle, she’s not…”
The door opens on my protest, and Lyle is there, in the flesh, just the other side.
Purple shadows darken her eyes, the worry I saw there weeks ago when everything changed now embedded into them, clear and present to witness and dulling the usual bright colour I’m so used to seeing.
I want to run to her, to fling my arms around her neck and take comfort that she’ll be at my side, but I falter, not sure if she’ll embrace my touch or reject me. It doesn’t stop a tear from slipping free from my lashes and splashing my cheek.
“Oh, Ever. I’m so sorry. If I could have been—” She stops as she steps into the room, looking me over.
We both keep a few feet between us, but in my heart, there’s no distance at all. She’s here. For me.
“It’s fine. You’re here now, right?” I don’t ask where she’s been, but wherever it is, she’s lost weight and even looks sick.
“Of course. You look… radiant.” She runs those darkened eyes over me, and the smile on her face is genuine and warm. Familiar. And it sets something to calm in my chest, putting something to rest.
“Thank you. It’s not really me.”
“Nonsense. I won’t hear another word.” Kyra beams at me, and I return the smile gladly, swiping at my cheeks. “Now, come on, you two.” Kyra hustles us out of the room.
My fingers vibrate with restraint to keep them by my side and not snake them into Lyle’s hand as we leave the residence and out into the courtyard of The Tower.
As soon as I step foot outside, I realise what this celebration might mean in the eyes of the Kirrians. People light up The Court as we walk through. Lanterns illuminate the air, music plays, strings and chords, a joyful melody follows us, and the air even feels warmer than it did earlier in the day.
As we walk through the main street and out towards the path that Ten took me on, more and more people join us. They seem as buoyant as Kyra, talking and singing amongst themselves.
The hum of people drowns out my worry, and I look between Lyle and Kyra repeatedly, trying to relax.
