by Liz Delton
Nesma returned as Kira finished packing up the leftover oils and herbs. “Are these made of Light?” Kira asked her, holding up the mortar and pestle.
Her mentor opened her mouth, her eyebrows creased. Nearby, Mistress Tori turned to answer. “They’re not,” she said, reaching out to take them. “Sometimes it’s safer to have real stone.”
At Kira’s questioning look, Tori went on. “If a trainee creates something with Light, and their will isn’t strong, the tool could break.”
“Oh,” both Kira and Nesma said.
“Besides, we try to minimize the amount of Light that gets used for mundane purposes—it throws off the balance when excess Light is held captive and not left to nature.”
Kira realized that must be why people like Anzu and the trainees in their combat class only summoned the Light weapons when they needed them. Kira had wondered why they would want to go through the trouble of summoning their weapon constantly, besides the convenience of not having to carry it around everywhere.
“That, and I can’t use Light magic,” Mistress Tori went on, now waving goodbye to a few trainees exiting the clearing. The bell from the square was now echoing across the distant grounds. “I’m Shadow.”
“Kira is from there too,” Nesma said brightly.
“Is that so? Well, I’m doubly glad you’ve made it to Gekkō-ji, Kira. But I’m actually from the Light region, Nesma. I just have Shadow magic.”
“And you didn’t want to go to the Shadow region to train?” Nesma piped up.
Mistress Tori surveyed Nesma for a moment then said, “I did go there, at first. Then, years ago, I visited Gekkō-ji and heard they were looking for a Master healer to teach. But that was before the Fall of Azurite.” Her face fell.
Kira nodded mutely. Not knowing who or what Azurite was, she kept quiet and vowed to seek out Ichiro or Nari as soon as she could. She was beginning to panic a little. She needed to find out more about the Realm of Camellia if she was supposed to try and blend in. She felt like a poorly trained spy who had been thrust into enemy territory.
“You two had better get going,” Mistress Tori said.
Nesma blanched, and Kira could tell she was listening for the bell, which had already stopped ringing. She reached out and grabbed Kira’s forearm. “We’ll be late for calligraphy!”
They both grinned and waved at Mistress Tori before darting down the path and through the immense garden. They flew down the stairs and across the temple square, coming to a panting halt at the entrance to the Moonstone.
The rest of the afternoon passed just as if Kira had been starting a new school in her own world, but instead of writing class, it was calligraphy, and she didn’t think even North Noxbury’s school had a class on horse care. There was, of course, a history class. But when the teacher, a stout, older gentleman with the most wildly bushy eyebrows Kira had ever seen, began speaking of the battle of The Wind and the Five Dragons, Kira’s own eyebrows rose.
After watching some of the other students, she awkwardly tried to write notes with the quill Nesma had gotten for her. The writing was terrible, but eventually she figured out how to get it so she could make out the words.
Kira found no time to track down Ichiro or Nari all day, panicking anytime Nesma introduced her to anyone. What would happen when someone realized she was lying about being from the Shadow region? So far, Kira hadn’t met any of the others who were from there, but Nesma had told her that she wasn’t the only one in the temple. She would be outed once they opened their mouths and started asking questions.
The lesson she had most been looking forward to was Light magic, which, Nesma informed her, was after dinner with the other novices.
“When it’s dark out,” Nesma said after they left the kitchen house, “it’s supposed to be easier to manage Light.”
Kira nodded, watching the faint starlight begin to outline her surroundings as the sun fell. She felt strangely aware of her fingers, as if they itched to try Light magic again.
At the top of the Moonstone, they emerged from the staircase into the open air. A wooden pergola covered tightly in wisteria vines would protect somewhat from the elements above. Kira was drawn to the railing on the western side of the building, to look over the temple square and what was left of the setting sun.
The temple square spread out before her, bathed in the dim brilliance of Light magic, highlighting the shadows of the dorm houses, the insides of the stone wall, and the enormous gate at the other end of the square. The cherry blossom tree was a beacon in the center of the square.
Sudden movement caught her eye by the gate, and she saw a bright blur streak across the square, heading toward the Moonstone.
“What is that?” she asked Nesma, who had come up beside her.
Her mentor looked down in time to see the glowing fox slip into the building.
“That’s one of Nari’s messengers. It’s high Light magic—not even all the Masters can do it. She sends them all over Camellia—it’s how she learns of troubles to send the knights on quests.” Or follow dark beasts into other realms, Kira thought.
The rooftop quickly became filled with novices, all scattered on various cushions on the floor or lingering by the railings. Conversation buzzed easily like a meadow full of bees.
Just as Kira turned to covertly study some of the other novices, she spotted Master Ichiro coming up the staircase. Most of the class noticed him as well, and the conversations died at once as the novices offered Ichiro a bow.
Returning the gesture, Master Ichiro then strode to a low table at the southern end of the roof, the head of the class. “You may begin,” he told them.
With the exception of the history class, Kira had been completely surprised by the Gekkō-ji Masters’ differing teaching styles. She had no idea what to expect with Ichiro.
“Kira, up here, please.”
Nesma gave her a good-natured push toward Ichiro, and Kira found her way to the front of the classroom. Ichiro smiled and gestured at the cushion in front of his low table, and Kira sank onto it.
“Welcome to your first Light lesson,” he said.
“Thanks,” she muttered, suddenly nervous. She felt like she could feel the eyes of the entire novice class on the back of her head as they began to work independently. She always hated sitting at the front of the classroom.
“Did Nesma provide you with books?”
“Oh! Yes.” Kira put her hand on the pile she had carried with her all day.
“You’ll be needing the one titled Light Lexicon for these lessons.”
She retrieved it from the stack and placed it on the table between them.
“Now, as you know,” Ichiro gave her a significant look, “Light and Shadow magic are in everything that makes up the world.”
Kira nodded, knowing no such thing but wanting to maintain her cover.
“Bright and dark, black and white, Light and Shadow are always opposites. Light is visible where Shadow isn’t. Though the one element they both share is fire, because fire is neither here nor there. There’s a balance to it.”
Kira bit the inside of her lip at the mention of balance, remembering her encounter with the old man in the garden. She certainly couldn’t tell Ichiro about it now, surrounded by her classmates.
“There are three basic steps to using Light magic. First, you pull Light energy from the world. It comes from the things around you. You’re borrowing their essence.”
“What, like from plants and animals?” Kira asked, recalling something Mistress Tori had said about the herbs holding a vital essence.
“Not animals, no, or people either. Not from anything with a spirit. Living beings do contain light and dark essence, but the spirit protects it from being taken or borrowed.
“And it’s not just plants we use, either. It can come from the earth, from stones, the wind, even things like this.” Ichiro reached out and grasped the wooden railing behind him. “Everything has the essence of life.
“Now, once yo
u pull the Light energy from something, then you must shape it into what you want: a sword, a staff, a bucket for water. The Lexicon is a compilation of objects you will be required to produce in order to move forward with your training.”
Kira picked up the book and flipped through it, watching a series of illustrations of everyday objects flip by on the pages.
“Then, once you’re done with the object, you release it.”
“How come we release it?” Kira asked. “Is it hard to hold in a shape?”
Ichiro shook his head. “Once it’s taken form, it stays that way. It upsets the balance of nature to hold more than a little in a form for long. Think of essence like a river—if you took one bucket of water and put it back a little while later, it wouldn’t make much difference to the river at all. But if everyone took a thousand buckets of water at once and left them somewhere to sit, the river would suffer. So we put it back when we don’t need it.”
“Oh, is that why you use torches everywhere?”
Ichiro nodded. Kira had thought it strange that a whole temple full of people who could manipulate Light magic needed simple torches to light their buildings.
“What about the cherry tree?” Kira asked, pointing to the Light blossoms in the center of the courtyard.
Ichiro shrugged, smiling. “It’s tradition, and the petals are so small, it’s not a lot of energy to be held.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Kira saw a novice summoning a rope of Light magic. The rope grew longer and longer as the boy ran his fingers down it. Kira’s eyes widened. It was just beginning to dawn on her how incredibly useful it would be to conjure anything she needed out of thin air.
“Yet Light magic can be dangerous too.”
Kira’s excited smile faltered, and she turned back to face Ichiro.
“It’s not as dangerous as Shadow magic, but imagine summoning a Light staff—instead of it landing in your palm, you accidentally summoned it through your palm.”
Kira winced.
“Concentration is key. As is the strength of your will. Now, open the Lexicon to the first page.”
Kira did as she was told. An illustration of a sewing needle took up the center of the page, surrounded by various notes. Kira bit her lip, wondering why she had to start with something so sharp. She wouldn’t forget the image of summoning a staff through her palm anytime soon.
“Now, concentrate hard. First, become aware of the Light energy you see all around you. Then imagine the energy concentrating into a needle—put your fingers together as if you’re holding it.”
Kira did so, hovering her thumb and finger a hairsbreadth apart. Around her, the dim glow of Light energy winked at Kira from the shadows left by the sun’s departure. The wooden floor and railings were particularly bright with Light.
“Picture the needle between your fingers.”
She stared at the space between her fingers, imagining the surrounding energy zooming in to form a tiny silver needle. She held her breath. Nothing happened. She stared at the space, willing it to be there. She avoided looking at Ichiro, not wanting to see disappointment on his kind face. Still nothing happened.
Kira twisted her mouth and bit the inside of her cheek. “How do you do it? Can you show me?”
“Of course.” Ichiro pinched his fingers together, breathed in, and as he breathed out, a silver needle appeared there.
He handed it to Kira.
“How come it looks real? I’ve seen some Light objects that glow all white and other things that look real.”
“That is a matter of will. As a novice, you are expected to merely summon certain items of varying difficulty. When you advance to squire, it will become a requirement for you to produce lifelike Light objects.”
Automatically, Kira tested the point of the needle against her thumb. A tiny prick of blood welled. She pulled the needle away and rubbed at the tiny wound until it went away.
Ichiro leaned forward. “You have to remember to make it sharp and to give it a hole for thread. Remembering the details is important. Try picturing the needle more clearly.”
He took his needle back from Kira and pinched it between his fingers again. In a tiny burst of light, it disappeared and—Kira could only assume—dispersed back into their surroundings.
Squaring her shoulders, Kira sat up straight and pinched her fingers together again. She took in a deep breath, imagining pulling the Light from around her, then pictured the needle as she wanted it—sharp point, a tiny hole for thread—and breathed out.
She almost missed it. Lowering her hand in defeat, she spotted the bright glow almost a second too late. Squeezed between her fingers, as though it had been there all along, was her own tiny needle.
Chapter Ten
Tradition
The morning sun shone brightly down on Kira as she hurried across the courtyard toward the Moonstone. It had been nearly impossible to speak candidly with Ichiro or Mistress Nari over the past two weeks. She had spent the whole time on edge, terrified of what would happen should someone find out that she was lying about who she was. It was already bad enough, people thinking she was from Shadow. What would they do to her if they knew she wasn’t even from this realm? And what of the Storm King, who could have spies or dark-creatures after her?
She had been pleasantly surprised when she was summoned to Ichiro’s office after breakfast today. Every morning, as she and Nesma walked by the wooden cubby holes at the dorm house that served as their mailboxes, she had glanced into the box with her name written on it. Nothing had appeared there until this morning.
Kira wondered if Ichiro and Nari were avoiding her. Was being from the Starless Realm such a bad thing? Or were they trying to avoid singling her out, as a measure to avoid the Storm King’s notice?
She knew Ichiro was constantly occupied with the running of the temple and teaching Light lessons, but hadn’t Ichiro told her that visitors from the Starless Realm were important people? On the rare occasion that Kira spotted Ichiro outside of her lessons, he brushed her aside with a polite—yet firm—excuse to be away.
Of course, she saw him during Light lessons. Yet after the first few days of instruction, she no longer sat with him, but with Nesma and the others, trying her hand at the different challenges introduced by the Light Lexicon. There was no time during those lessons to speak to Ichiro privately.
She hadn’t even seen Mistress Nari since their first meeting. From careful questions posed to Nesma and Hikaru, Kira had discovered that Mistress Nari was in charge of dispatching the knights to where they were most needed in the region. Kira couldn’t tell if the Mistress’ continued absence was normal or not.
Luckily, her cover had held up well over the past two weeks, even without Ichiro or Nari’s guidance. She had encountered only a few other trainees from the Shadow region, but she had been able to avoid any conversations that might display her lack of knowledge of her supposed place of birth. But what she wanted to know most was what Ichiro and Nari’s plans for her were and why they thought the Storm King had gone into her realm looking for her.
She had begun to enjoy her training at Gekkō-ji. She could now summon as many pins and needles as she wanted and had started working on thread too. Each time she perfected an item in the Lexicon, she eagerly showed Ichiro. It wasn’t quite like being graded, but Kira knew he was keeping track of everyone’s progress somehow. She couldn’t wait to try making bigger things, like the weapons the older trainees and knights had. She had tried once, alone in her dorm room, to make a staff, but the hour of focusing so hard she worked up a sweat produced nothing. Clearly, there was a reason she had to start small and work her way up.
Unfortunately, Rabenda’s dislike for Kira hadn’t yet waned. Kira was glad she was a novice and Rabenda a page, because they didn’t see each other too often. That didn’t keep Rabenda from being nasty to her in passing or during chores in the kitchen house. There were times when Kira longed to shout, “I’m not from Shadow, I’m from the Starless Realm!” but s
he restrained herself. She kept silent even when one day Rabenda tripped her in the middle of the courtyard by summoning a well-placed Light stone from a distance, right in Kira’s way. Kira’s palms and elbows were still scraped from the fall. She was reluctant to retaliate with Kuma always watching. She just had to hold out a little longer, and then she wouldn’t have to lie anymore.
Kira brimmed with anticipation as she stepped into the Moonstone. Over the past two weeks, she had filled with so many questions about the Realm of Camellia—one of them being how much longer she would need to pretend she was from the Shadow region. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on Rabenda’s face when she realized she was wrong and that Kira wasn’t a person to be feared or hated, but a visitor from another realm.
She knocked lightly on Ichiro’s door.
“Enter,” came the man’s voice, and she slid the door aside.
“Master Starwind,” she began, wondering which of her many questions she should ask first. Then all the blood drained from her face. Ichiro wasn’t alone in his office. An unfamiliar boy sat at the table across from him, exactly where Kira had sat when she had first arrived at the temple only two weeks ago. She bowed toward Ichiro to cover her awkward pause.
No. No, I need more time, she thought frantically. Her fantasies about being allowed to proclaim her true originations were harshly swept away.
Ichiro gave her a sad smile. He said, “Kira, this is Jun Kosumoso, our newest trainee,” and the bottom dropped out of her stomach, confirming her worst suspicion.
Frozen, she heard Ichiro continue speaking, though his words sounded much further away than they ought to. The boy, Jun, looked at ease sitting with the Master of Gekkō-ji, his light brown hair bleached gold in places as evidence of time spent outdoors. His clothes looked of better quality than anything Kira had seen anyone wear at the temple; he wore a blue and silver embroidered jacket, and she thought she spotted a small knife at his belt.
