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Cursed With Power

Page 15

by Lindsey Richardson


  I placed my hands on the bed and tilted my head at him. While Ilena claimed my grandparents had been foreseers, I heard stories that they were no longer common in our areas.

  “That’s nonsense! Besides, I heard rumors that the foreseers have isolated themselves to avoid being used in another magical war,” I countered.

  Alaire smirked and replied, “Many of them have hidden themselves, claiming they will never return to assist in a war and be misused once more. However, legend has it the younger generations of foreseers were somehow spread out from the others. They live among us with the humans.”

  “You believe you’re a foreseer? I’ve had dreams since my sister’s death, but does that make me a prophet? These are our fears becoming nightmares, nothing more,” I said.

  My reassurance was not enough. His face glowed like a firefly. He believed in all of it, and when he spoke again I frowned at just how convinced he sounded.

  “I can’t explain it, but I knew Dyanna died before you told me. I knew you would meet Léal before I had any idea of who you were. Do you not realize what’s happened?” Alaire asked.

  I lay my head on the edge of the mattress. After this nonsense about visions, I couldn’t tell him about what happened with the mirror yet. Tension was rising in his voice, and if he thought I was a foreseer that would only fuel his imagination. There was nothing to prove what he had seen, and Grefin could have as easily told Alaire the same story he told me. While Grefin’s wife was a foreseer, he wasn’t one to be picking out who else had the insight.

  Alaire’s hand lowered, moving away the strands of hair that fell in front of my face. Glancing up, I looked him directly in the eyes and waited, though I wasn’t willing to admit how clueless I was about his thoughts. I was desperate to see in his eyes what I could not ask. What drove him to believe this, or more importantly why did he waste his time believing in it?

  “I am seeing events before they happen. Even you saw what I did last night… Like you said, it seemed real. Maybe it’s a warning,” Alaire whispered as he continued to stroke my hair.

  “Alaire, stop,” I said, reaching out to hold his hand.

  His fingers intertwined with mine; the way he was staring scared me more than everything he said. I had seen a similar look in Adam’s eyes years ago.

  Let him believe it, I thought.

  He could believe in foreseers and visions; it wouldn’t harm him. Perhaps the accident didn’t help clear his thoughts. I would wait until he was well again, and then we could discuss the mirror incident.

  “Léal is lucky to have you,” he said abruptly with a sigh.

  I laughed.

  “No one has me. I don’t belong to anyone,” I answered. Realizing how sore my knees felt, I crawled up onto the bed and lay beside him.

  “Celestria?”

  I smiled, though I hid it when I gazed over at him. No one owned me; I was independent. I could choose to express my feelings for Alaire or I could wait for him to make the first move.

  Saying nothing, I wondered if we could lay there and forget about the rest of the world. If it was only me and him, then we wouldn’t have to plague our mind with the memories of violence and fear for survival. It was wishful thinking, but the thought gave me hope. Maybe someday we would live in such a world where we would no longer be followed by death.

  He dropped his hand from my hair and squeezed my shoulder. He was gentle; his touch was soft.

  “Tell me more about your dreams… or visions,” I said.

  “I can feel them just like I can feel your touch,” he said, pausing while I blushed.

  Gravely, he added, “Celestria, someone wants me dead. I’ve never been more convinced about anything like this in my life, and if I’m not dead tonight I will be soon enough.”

  “A lot of people want us dead. We live in a world that wants to devour us. The important thing is to stay alive, and so long as you are here, no one will ever harm you. That’s a promise,” I responded.

  Though he was silent, he pulled me closer just as I attempted to withdraw. His hands got in the way of mine, and suddenly I was staring directly in his face. My hair fell down over my shoulders, but I worried I had hurt him. Alaire’s facial expression changed; he did not seem to be in pain. He grinned, and I did the same in return.

  I lowered my head down to his, and I desired just once to read his thoughts. His hair was soft like a dove’s feather, and his skin was warm like the sun. I caught my breath at the thought, the momentary yearning to carry a secret of his that he had never shared with anyone before. The look in his eyes reminded me of the first time we met when I could have sworn he recognized me.

  If only I had known you in another lifetime; if only I could know the man you were then to understand who you are now.

  He murmured my name, and at that exact moment the door creaked open.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  World Inside My Head

  A maid entered the room and gawked, then I looked at Alaire; he glanced at me, and we both burst into laughter. The maid stood motionless halfway between the room and the hallway, but I couldn’t control the laughter to pay attention to her. I could not remember any other time in my life I had been laughing with such giddiness. There were tears of joy streaming from my eyes, and Alaire’s laughter was louder than anything I had ever heard.

  “Breakfast is ready; the master will be waiting for you in the dining hall,” the maid said, and then in one swift movement she stepped out of the doorway and closed the door behind her.

  Sliding off the bed, I straightened my posture and turned back to Alaire. He continued snickering.

  In a serious tone, I said, “I want you to show me how strong I am. We’ll discuss it when I return.”

  He stopped laughing and returned a grave stare.

  I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. As I made my way to the dining hall, I feared the ideas Alaire had given me. At what point would I no longer be able to determine dream from vision? Even so, I assured myself it was all nonsense. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that I had been born with the gift of foresight.

  Turning the corner by the staircase, it suddenly struck me that I had no idea where the dining hall was. I stood still for a moment, glancing around everywhere, and then I noticed a servant opening two doors which revealed a large room. The smell of bread filled the hall, and I immediately followed the scent.

  From the moment I entered the room, anyone could see it was massive—much larger than the bedrooms. There was one long, dark brown table in the middle, and to each side there were smaller tables filled with plates and bowls. There were vast amounts of food from fruit to bread, to muffins and cooked eggs.

  Looking at the food, I thought I would drool over myself before I could grab a plate. Suddenly I bumped into Grefin, who tapped his foot as he waited for me to take the plate and cup he was offering. Once I took it, he stepped away to sit at the front of the large table. To his right was Emeria, sitting properly. Nearby one of the small tables, Daciana was gathering together small amounts of food which I assumed were for Alaire.

  “Celestria, come sit,” Grefin called, pointing to the chair at his left.

  I obeyed, and once I was at the chair Grefin jumped up to hold it for me. Gathering up my dress, I sat down, and then he pushed me in closer to the table. His manners surprised me, but I lost interest in everything the moment the servants gathered around us with food. They placed the plates on the table, one by one, and then at last we could eat. While there were matters to discuss with Grefin, I could have cared less with the amount of food in front of me.

  Extending my hand out with a fork, I stabbed it into a corn muffin and dropped it onto my plate. I tore it into pieces and, before I could think about how impolite I was acting, I devoured the muffin. Emeria and Grefin ate silently, picking at their food with their forks gently.

  “There are sausages and eggs…” Emeria began to say.

  It was too late. I saw the eggs and sausages ly
ing on a plate by themselves and bolted up to grab them before anyone else could. I had not meant to be hasty, but I ended up keeping the entire plate for myself.

  “You certainly eat as if Alaire has been starving you,” Grefin remarked. He chuckled at his commentary, but I barely paid any mind to him.

  The eggs were perfectly yellow and the sausages were juicy and thick. I munched on them as I tore off a piece of bread and threw it into my mouth. Grefin and Emeria stopped eating; they watched me in awe with their jaws dropped.

  At last the eggs were finished and the last sausage stared at me, waiting to enter into my mouth. I licked my lips and considered if I needed to eat it. I had already eaten too much, and surely Grefin or Emeria would rather I offer it to them. Piercing the piece of food with my fork, I placed it down on Grefin’s plate. He smiled at me, but then I snatched the sausage and shoved it into my mouth. His smile quickly faded. Liquid dripped from my lips as I wiped away the mess with the white piece of fabric wrapped around the spoon and knife.

  “Would you like to eat my food, as well?” Emeria asked, holding her plate out to me.

  I reached my hand out for it, but she seized it away from me.

  “How old are you?” she shook her head in disbelief.

  A servant came to stand beside me and said, “Would you like some wine, mistress?”

  A curved smile formed on my face as I nodded vigorously. The man took the empty glass by my plate. I sat, waiting, as I debated what to tell Grefin first. While I wanted to know more about Aldemund, I knew the only way anyone would start talking was if I planned to challenge him.

  “Well,” I cleared my throat. “I thought it over, and I have decided that I must travel to Belsgar to fight Aldemund. Alaire said so himself that he had planned for us to venture there.”

  “Perhaps you took Daciana’s warning too lightly. No Dark magicians have entered into that realm for centuries now. You’ll be killed before you find out anything valuable,” Grefin replied.

  I shook my head.

  “Aldemund is the reason for the scars on my body. He attacked me while I was harmlessly wondering the streets,” I pushed down my sleeve, revealing the scars from when Aldemund burned my skin. The area was still darker than the rest of my skin.

  Emeria held her hand against her chest, as if the breath had been knocked out of her.

  “I’ve met Aldemund many times before, but I wasn’t informed his tactics of ‘defense’ had come to this. Even so, he’s too dangerous for you to challenge on your own,” Grefin said.

  “Everyone has been talking about the man he is, yet I seem to be the only one who is clueless about it. In Aldemund’s eyes, I’m insignificant, hence making me the best one to target him,” I countered.

  Grefin tapped his finger on the table. “It is one thing for Aldemund to challenge you, but if you decide to rise against him you may be starting a war. The war between light and darkness is most certainly unstoppable now; I’d be lying to tell you otherwise. You’ll be risking everything in order to defeat him.”

  I pouted and thought over what he said. Aldemund had willingly given me his name, and by doing so he ensured that even if I wasn’t killed I would have a way to find him. As for what reasons he would have behind this I had no idea, but if a war must start then so be it. This war was all about survival, and someone would have to start it so that we could determine who lives and who dies.

  “If Aldemund is the beginning of this war, shouldn’t I take the risk? I have nothing left to lose except for Alaire, and I’ve already lost him once before. I’m opening my eyes to the reality of this situation: Aldemund is a serious threat,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

  Emeria joined in on the conversation, and with a smile, she said, “I could take Celestria to Belsgar. After all, who would question her if we said the great Grefin DeVilly sent us?”

  Grefin glared at her and then turned to me. “Emeria is a student of mine, as well as a Light magician. She is the best student I’ve mentored, and she has gone to Belsgar before.”

  Slamming my hands down on the table, I yelled, “Wait a minute! I never said I need company for this journey.”

  Snickering, Grefin responded, “And what exactly do you plan to do? Whether you like it or not, the truth of the matter is you cannot enter Belsgar on your own. That place is heavily guarded day and night. To enter without any name for yourself would soon have you killed.”

  I was bewildered at his suggestion. They honestly expected me to take the young girl to a place where I would be closer to death than ever before. There was no chance I would trust Emeria, and regardless of my trust, everyone around me was in danger. Emeria could enter into Belsgar and reveal my true identity, and, once she said that, I’d be dead.

  While I sat and thought it over, the servant returned with the wine. He placed the cup in front of my plate, but I had no interest in touching it now.

  “You are asking me to depend on an enemy to risk their life for mine?” I asked as I came to the realization myself.

  Grefin stroked his beard. “Yes, it would appear so. Considering the circumstances, I do not believe you have many other choices.”

  “What about Alaire? If he heals in time…” I stopped midway through, wondering how I could even think to volunteer him. It would take a miracle for him to heal quickly, and even then it’d be cruel to throw him out into the battlefield right away.

  “You,” he said in all seriousness, “make your own decisions, but you will have to return to this manor for Alaire. He’s in too fragile of a place to go anywhere.”

  Leaning over to me, he added, “To have love and war is treacherous. In love we will sacrifice anything for those dear to our heart, but in war you must sacrifice everything you aren’t ready to lose. Are you prepared to lose Alaire? If you enter into a war, you can’t turn back for him; that is the price you must pay if you love the man.”

  I stared at him with my jaw hung open. Grefin couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to mix my emotions for Alaire. While Alaire was probably sitting up in his bed nibbling on food, I was agreeing to go to war behind his back. I felt like I had betrayed him in some way by not confiding in him first. Then I remembered in the dream Alaire had died while I was present. No matter my view on visions, I wasn’t going to risk Alaire’s life by staying.

  Considering it was possible, Grefin was suggesting I would lose Alaire in a different way. By battling Aldemund, I jeopardized the chance of returning to Alaire. Conflicting thoughts would have me killed, and in that sense I would lose Alaire too.

  Abruptly Emeria’s cheerful voice spoke up once more, but I paid no attention to her words. I studied her hair, feeling mesmerized by it.

  “Dyanna?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on her blonde hair. However, when I looked again I could not see myself or Emeria.

  Dyanna’s golden hair flowed past her shoulders and down her back. It was combed perfectly, as she always maintained it to be. She was in a dark tent with a candle lighting the area. There was a dagger in her hands, but she held it up to her hair. She wore the same ivory dress she had left in, but there was a golden locket around her neck I did not recognize.

  In the background there were men shouting. Their voices were unfamiliar and the words they spoke were foreign. A foul odor filled the humid air, reminding me of the stench of sweat and blood.

  One man called for Dyanna, seemingly close to her tent, and after a few moments she answered him. She too answered in the foreign language, like it was her native tongue.

  A man not too far away screamed in agony.

  Dyanna ignored him and slowly began chopping strands of her hair away with the dagger. The gold locks fell onto the grass piece by piece. She continued until her hair was above her shoulders, but it was an unusually short hairstyle for a lady.

  A man wearing a complete suit of plate armor suddenly slipped into the tent, and she placed the weapon in the sword carrier hanging from the belt around her waist. The man threw off his steel helmet
, revealing his brunet hair tied back, and then held out his bloodstained hands. With a huge grin on her face, Dyanna ran into his open arms. Before I had a better glimpse of his face, he buried it into her shoulder. She rubbed his back while his body shook.

  Backing away with his focus on the ground, he said in Romanian, “I’m leaving to return to the war again.”

  Suddenly all of the joy in Dyanna’s eyes dissolved.

  “When do you leave?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow, but this will all be over soon. We’ll make it through this time, I promise,” he said, and then he wrapped her in his arms again.

  Though Dyanna couldn’t see it, the man bit his lip and a single tear dripped from his eye. He was bluffing.

  I blinked and it was gone. Dyanna was gone. The men, the tent, the screaming, the stench… It all vanished into thin air, as if it had never been there and seemed real. I felt like I might vomit at any given minute. I had not believed Alaire about the visions, but this was the second time I saw something that was not real.

  What frightened me even more was that I had seen Dyanna with a man, though during all the time I knew her she never cared to be involved in a relationship. She also did not know how to speak any other language beside Romanian. And the man mentioned a war… What could it all mean?

  “Celestria?” Grefin called. “What has gotten into you, and who is Dyanna?”

  “This is why she needs someone with her, Grefin. Acting like that, she’s bound to harm herself,” Emeria said.

  The words she spoke were meaningless to me. I pushed back my seat, stood up, and started toward Alaire’s room. In no time at all I could hear Grefin and Emeria following close behind, but I no longer cared about them. Seeing Alaire was mandatory now, and the only excuse I could think of for why I needed to see him was to help with walking.

  I heard Daciana’s voice before I saw the door was ajar. When I walked in Alaire was sitting up in bed with gauze covering his shoulder wound. There was dried blood covering his pillow, and I noticed Daciana holding up a clean white tunic toward him.

 

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