by Erin Forbes
The shadows were merely momentary. My amber eyes opened wide as a burst of light and extraordinary color came into view. For a long moment, I believed I had entered a dream. Sudden and familiar memories appeared before me like a screenplay. They came in fleeting glimpses, but I managed to capture every one.
I was standing in the middle of a sunlit room. No one seemed to notice my presence, but my eyes quickly focused on two unmistakably familiar faces from across the room. A little girl with curly red hair stood beside a large vase of sunflowers. She was accompanied by another young girl, who looked remarkably similar to my twin sister. Their laughter echoed in my ears, as though it were something the human mind was unable to comprehend.
I did not understand the purpose of traveling back to this memory. Almost every recent event was connected to the prophecy in one way or another. I was quite confident that this memory held the same importance.
As if to call upon my suspicions, the heavy vase fell suddenly to the floor, spilling water and golden petals across the wood. I barely had enough time to think before my vision spiraled into darkness once more.
Only a moment after they had closed, my eyelids opened to the bright light of new surroundings. I was standing on the front steps of an old stone cottage in the middle of an Aisling village. A dusty- haired woman was hurrying down the cobblestone road. Her balance teetered back and forth under the weight of two heavy baskets, which had been piled high with novels of every sort.
A young girl trailed behind her, skipping through the autumn leaves as her short brown hair blew wildly in the breeze. With every step the young girl took, a trail of miniature wind spirals twirled in her wake. Each footstep swept away the fallen leaves in a curious golden vortex. Her lightly freckled face was home to a pixie-like nose and familiar pair of gray eyes.
“Hurry up, Ariadne! We mustn’t be late!” The woman’s voice echoed throughout my mind before I blinked myself into another peculiar scene.
I was standing in front of another stone cottage. Its vine-covered gate and cobblestone wall traveled down an old dirt road for as far as the eye could see. In the faint distance, the meadow grass danced in the breeze as curious songbirds swept through the trees. I stood for a short moment, listening to their song, until the familiar sound of horseshoes began to beat down the path.
After turning my head, I noticed a figure cantering toward me. The rider was a young girl with sparkling emerald eyes and a mess of curly, golden hair. Her face was slightly younger, and her hair was slightly shorter, but I had no doubt in my mind that she was Juniper Stone.
Her noble steed was oblivious to my presence as he came to a halt in front of the cottage. His gentle brown eyes looked past me with an uninterested expression, while Juniper slid out of the saddle and swung open the gate. I followed her and the old gelding through the grass until we reached a large paddock near the other side of the house. After leading her horse inside, Juniper quickly pulled off his tack and gave him a gentle grooming. The dappled gelding stood quietly as I watched the dust sweep from his coat with every gentle stroke.
“Juniper, where are you?” I heard a woman call from the direction of the house.
“I’ll be right there,” Juniper called back before placing her brush on the old stone wall and glancing back at her horse. “I’ll be back in just a moment, Sampson.”
As Juniper ran toward the house, I watched helplessly as the paddock gate escaped the grasp of the lock. The old steed did not seem to notice, but I was sure the autumn breeze would swing the gate open. Juniper would come back to discover her horse was gone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something move. The tangled mess of vines that grew wild on the gate had begun to weave their way around the wooden fence. Reaching out like a hand, the agile plant began to pull the paddock gate into its keeper. A bright light clouded my vision, leading me to our final destination.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I stood at the foot of a small staircase in the hallway of my old home. I suppose one might say that things looked only slightly different. The kitchen door was a cozy shade of plum, instead of the brilliant blue my sister had convinced our father to paint it just a few years ago. A different basket held the umbrellas, and the coatrack was not quite the same. However, when I looked up, I could still see the giant oil painting that hung above the stairwell.
As I walked around the corner and into my family’s kitchen, I was greeted by a high-pitched scream. The moment I had stepped through the doorway, every light in our white farmhouse vanished. As I gazed through the darkness, my vision could just barely distinguish between the silhouettes of two little girls.
I do not believe anyone understands the definition of the word “surreal” until they experienced it. Between the sight of my ginger curls gleaming in the moonlight and the sound of my sister’s unmistakable voice, nothing seemed stranger than seeing my face as more than a photograph or mirror reflection.
“The candles are in the cabinet under the silverware.” I turned around to see my mother standing in the doorway, holding a flashlight in her right hand. The ray of light shone upon the two young faces, as though the children were a pair of lost travelers. We must have been no more than eight years old, although my hair was just as red.
Giggles filled the air as the two figures ran around the kitchen table. They swung the cabinet doors open and lifted out a heavy little box, which I knew to be filled with our mother’s favorite scented candles.
Mom walked over and lifted the box off the floor before setting it down on the table. She opened the lid and pulled out the first candle she could find. “By the time we are done, the entire house will smell like… Christmas cookies!” She laughed after pausing to read the label.
“That’s my favorite!” I heard a tiny voice and glanced down to see I was standing beside my younger self. Just like the noble steed, her amber eyes were completely oblivious to my presence. My body was still in the courtyard garden, and this experience was nothing more than a dream.
A few moments later, the girls began to distribute candles all around the house. Our mother followed with a box of matches. I made my way into the living room, allowing my skin to soak in the candlelight. Despite it being the middle of springtime, I enjoyed the fresh smell of Christmas cookies and the essence of this memory.
After a moment, something remarkable happened. My eyes just barely caught it, but I watched in fascination as my eight-year-old body placed a candle in the center of the room and turned away just in time to miss the flame that appeared inside. I whipped my head around to see if our mother had been watching, but she was busy lighting the line of candles along the mantelpiece.
It seemed like no more than the blink of an eye before I found myself standing in the courtyard. Every one of my senses came back in a rush as the scent of flowers overwhelmed me into a sneeze. I looked up to see Juniper, Ariadne, and Emery watching me with strange expressions of curiosity.
“This isn’t normal,” I whispered, slumping back into my chair.
“I think we’ve covered that,” remarked Ariadne.
“I don’t believe this is about us being normal,” Juniper said. “We already know we are quite far from ordinary. Normality is much less captivating than the extraordinary.”
“Perhaps this is about us being different,” Emery added. “Everyone is born with a destiny and purpose. The prophecy could be one of ours.”
I nodded in agreement, for my sister was right. My favorite part of Aisling was the fact that every person had been taught to see the beauty in each other. No one had questioned this teaching since the days of Silas Casper and Wolfgang Gregory; however, the curse threatened to bring a terrible change. The prophecy was an important part of our fate. We simply needed to follow our destiny.
I found myself wondering if I should tell my friends about the Four Lone Towers. The prophecy seemed to be unfolding faster than I expected. Unexplainable hesitation and uncertainty lingered in the shadows of my mind.
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br /> “I have something to show you,” I told them quietly as I stepped out of my chair.
My sister looked up at me with confusion. We never kept secrets from each other, and we always trusted each other to keep a secret. Nevertheless, this was the reason why I chose to share the truth.
My friends followed me out of the garden. The castle grounds appeared to be deserted, and the only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath our shoes. We hurried down the dew-soaked hillside and toward the old stone tower. Once we reached the wooden door, I turned to face my Gifted friends.
“You each know the story of these four towers,” I affirmed. “They have been locked without a key for over a century. No one has been able to open the doors since the founder of the Academy.”
“This cannot be possible,” Juniper gasped as I placed my hand on the knob and the door swung open with a creak.
“Somebody must have unlocked it,” Ariadne said as she glanced around to make sure nobody else was watching. “I’m sure you’re not the only one able to open it.”
I thought about this for a moment. The headmistress may have finally figured out a way to break into the towers without destroying them. It was possible she had left the door unlocked, although I was not going to settle upon this idea without evidence.
I swung the door shut before gesturing for Ariadne to try it. She stepped forward until she was standing at the foot of the tower, and she placed her delicate hand around the silver doorknob. I heard the clicking sound of a lock as she turned it sideways, and the door refused to open. Ariadne gave me a strange look before trying the handle once more. But I knew I was right. The tower was locked. I was the only person who had been able to open the door in over a century.
I glanced at my sister. Her pale eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful expression.
“What is it, Emery?” Juniper asked before I had the chance to do the same.
“I’m just thinking,” Emery responded with a quiet voice. “There are four towers, correct?”
“Yes.” I nodded as we made our way back up the hill and toward the castle steps.
“There are four of us as well.” She lowered her voice as we passed a group of younger students. They were too busy laughing at each other to hear anything we had to say.
“I have a feeling each of the towers belongs to one of us,” Emery said as soon as the other students were out of earshot.
“Perhaps Ariadne was not able to open this tower, because it does not belong to her,” concluded Juniper.
Emery nodded as we hurried up the castle steps and came to a halt in front of the door. There was a brief pause in the conversation as I pulled my necklace out of my collar. My sister’s eyes widened with surprise.
“You still have that old thing?” she gasped. “I thought you would have opened it ages ago.”
“I saved it until our sixteenth birthday,” I explained, before slipping the note into my hand and passing it around to each of them. “I don’t know how our grandmother knew about the prophecy, but this letter confirms everything we have been wondering.”
I watched each of their expressions change as they examined the elegant handwriting. The silence seemed to echo through my ears, as though it were begging our voices to speak. Nevertheless, words did not seem necessary.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The next few days were unusually quiet. I avoided all interactions as I hurried down the castle corridors. My mind was comparable to the afternoon sky, clouded with ideas and the occasional concern, which popped into my head like a bird soaring through a never-ending sea of blue.
I was not sure why I had entered the library, although my thoughts were often organized between the enchanting bookshelves. Skimming through the history aisle, I found myself face-to-face with a collection of books dedicated to the Four Lone Towers. I reached out and pulled a volume from the shelf.
A few of our professors had mentioned the towers in class; however, they never spoke about the structures in much detail. I always assumed this was because the Academy preferred to keep the students away from the ancient doors. Even so, as the prophecy was beginning to unfold, the concern was understandable.
I gathered more of the books into a pile and carried them over to the librarian’s desk. A familiar boy stood behind the counter with his back toward me. His curly brown hair and green wool sweater seemed well acquainted to my amber eyes. As he turned around, I recognized a very familiar face of freckles.
“Hello, Alice,” Ronan greeted me with an expression of surprise.
“Ronan, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I thought Kade already told you,” he responded awkwardly. “I started working here last weekend. The librarian was searching for volunteers.”
“Oh.” I nodded, dropping the heavy pile of books in front of him.
“Is there a new assignment of which I am unaware?” the boy asked suspiciously as his blue eyes rested on each of the bindings.
“I’ve just decided to do a bit of extra studying.” I attempted to think of a valid excuse for such a curious history topic.
“You hate studying,” Ronan reminded me as he began to check out each of the books.
“I do not!” I retorted.
“Yes, you do!” Ronan laughed. “You told me just the other day when we were in class with my uncle.”
“There isn’t any extra homework,” I said firmly. “I’m doing this for myself.”
“All right,” Ronan spoke with a tone of suspicion. He watched as I gathered the books in my arms and headed for the door.
“Alice,” the boy called. “Please do not take Kade personally. She may be upset with you now, but she will forget about the matter in a few days.
I nodded with the slightest bit of a smile before walking down the spiral staircase. Ronan was trying to ease the tension between his sister and me, but I highly doubted that Kade would be over our feud so quickly. Grudges are often worse enemies than pain.
When I arrived in my room, it was almost time for dinner. My shoulders felt heavy under the weight of my books, and I barely made it into the bedroom before dropping them on the surface of my mattress. The other girls had already made their way to the dining hall.
After a few minutes, I heard a soft knock and looked up to see that Augusta had appeared in the doorway. Her curly brown hair had been tied into a messy bun, and her wide-framed glasses rested gently on the bridge of her nose.
“It seems like the rest of Lancaster Hall has already made their way down to the dining hall,” she announced. “Would you care to join me?”
I nodded with a smile.
As we wandered through the castle, neither of us spoke a word. I found comfort in the presence of another quiet spirit. My heart found solitude in the tranquility of silence, for those were the rare moments when I was able to lose myself in the freedom of my surroundings.
Upon entering the dining hall, I found a seat beside the other Elementals. The room was bursting with laughter and conversation from our fellow students; however, the three of us ate our food in silence.
Juniper stared blankly across the dining hall as she took a bite out of a plump lionberry. Her emerald eyes held an unreadable expression as they wandered through the crowd of students. There was no doubt the attack was still haunting her mind.
“What will each of you be doing this summer?” I asked, feeling the need to break the unnerving silence that lingered in our corner of the hall. It was barely the middle of February, although the seasons of Aisling changed much faster than they did in my old world. Springtime would be ending soon, and the semester was drawing to a close.
“I’ll probably be working at the Moss Shop.” Ariadne sighed heavily.
“Not if I can help it!” Juniper laughed.
I envied the two of them, for they had both grown up in the realm of Aisling. I found myself wondering what it would be like to stay for just the summer. After gulping down the last spoonful of soup, I grabbed a lionberry from one of the f
ruit baskets and stood up from my chair.
“Where are you going, Alice?” inquired Emery. “I’m not feeling very well,” I responded. “I think I’ll head back to the dormitories.”
Truthfully, I was feeling fine. I simply could not keep my focus on the conversation with my friends. My mind was racing with curiosity for the towers and our prophecy.
As my feet carried me through the dining hall doors, I nearly collided with Zara Hawthorne. Her sapphire eyes did not seem fazed. I bowed my head apologetically.
“Good evening, Alice,” Zara greeted me. “Are you leaving dinner already?”
“Uh… yes,” I responded with an awkward pause. “I’m afraid I have some extra studying to finish.”
