A/N: So, this is my first KOTLC fanfiction! (Yay!) And I really have no idea about where this is going to go, and Lodestar (that's Book #5 if you don't know) will probably de-canonize this whole thing and I'm planning to try and write 3.5 fanfics at once so I probably wont update that frequently, maybe once or twice a month. And this first chapter isn't that good or anything, and it's really short, but I don't have enough ideas for even my usual 4,000-word chapter and I'm probably going to run this fanfic into the ground so yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts!

EDIT: Now that Lodestar has come out, I have a few things to make clear to readers who found this fic after Lodestar came out. I'm aware now that I've made Linh blatantly OOC. I'm aware now that their house is called Choralmere, not Thorndale, and that their mom's name is completely different. These are only a few of the more drastic inaccuracies. Please know that I wrote all this before Lodestar came out, and had no way of knowing anything about Tam and Linh's home life. So I made it up. I hope you can enjoy it as a product of my own imagination, even though it's now invalidated by the canon.

CHAPTER 1

REFLECTIONS

Linh always knew she was . . . different.

Different from her mother, who was like air — she floated through the Lost Cities, chasing the fashions that changed more quickly than the wind. Different from her father, who was solid as a rock — no expression ever crossed his face, except for disappointment. And different from Tam, the fire that blazed through anything daring to get in his way.

She was different than the other girls, daughters of the nobility, who had older brothers or younger sisters and were never thrown dirty looks on the street or had to lie about their age.

Linh had never understood why being a twin was bad. She and Tam were sister and brother, just like all the happy families she saw walking along the Pure-lined sidewalks. The only difference was that she and Tam had shared a womb. And what difference did that make?

She had never understood why her mother had always claimed Tam was a year older than her, or why, as a Silencer, she had blocked Linh's voice when she took a breath to object.

She had never understood why her father always told her to run along and play with the other girls, as if he never wanted her around. He used the same words every time, even after she had complained that the girls teased her and pulled her hair and called her Freak Girl.

Linh remembered the last time she had dared to venture back to the playground. They had laughed at the blue dye she had dipped the ends of her hair in. "You look like you fell into a kelpie pond!" they had said.

She had spent so much time choosing exactly the right color, and she thought it had looked rather pretty. But when she got home in the evening, the first thing she did was take her mother's sewing scissors and cut all the blue off.

Now night was approaching, and she watched the sun sink below the hills that enclosed Thorndale. The setting sun turned the world red and orange, the color of the koi fish swimming in the pond beneath her feet.

This was the garden — the only place where she ever felt truly safe. It was like the world was holding its breath here; the sound of the fish swimming in the pond was the only noise.

Quiet as a shadow and quick as water, the gnome Nari slipped down from the trees and sat down on the grass next to Linh.

Nari had worked in the gardens of Thorndale since before Linh had been born, and Linh suspected she had been alive for much longer. She was Linh's most steadfast and only friend.

"Your face is troubled, child," said Nari, her soothing voice a freshly watered plot of soil. "What is the problem?"

A silver tear trickled down Linh's face. She was often prone to crying — cried too much, according to her father — but it wasn't something she could help. She let the tears cascade in a silent waterfall, but she did not say a word — actions speak more clearly than the sophistication of speech to the gnomes.

Nari nodded, understanding. "The day is dying," she said. "You should go back to the house, and sleep away your tears."

"I am afraid of sleep, Nari," said Linh. "For seven nights I have been plagued with a single dream — a face without features, two jewels set where eyes should be. One is blue and sparkles like the sea. The other is pure black and reflects no light at all. The face spins, and I feel myself pulled into the stare of the eyes of light and darkness. What does it mean?"

Nari gave a knowing smile tinged with sadness. "It means you will manifest your special ability soon."

If Linh had turned into a fish, she would not have been more shocked. "But I'm only nine years old."

"Dreams are reality's offspring," said Nari. "They reflect into our eyes the truths we cannot see."

But how can it be true? wondered Linh after Nari disappeared back into a tree. She gazed down into the koi pond, where starlight now shone in its stillness. She had not realized it was already so late that the stars had come out.

She spent a sleepless night in the garden, wondering what her dream meant yet afraid to see it again.

Linh did not want to manifest early. It would earn her even more stares and dirty looks, and parents pulling their children away as if she had some contagious disease.

But why? Why would parents pull their children away? Why would the girls think she had a disease? Why did it matter if she manifested early?

Why, why, why? the stars above seemed to mock her.

Because, the whispered flight of fish in the water below her seemed to answer.

Because. That one word should have made her uneasy, made her question, Because what? But that because gave Linh comfort. It was a reason, and any reason was good enough.

"Because." The word parted her lips, wafted through the starry silence. The whisper of a wind rippling against a surface of living glass.

Like she was a puppet being pulled on two strings, Linh reached out a shaky hand to the koi pond. Her fingers brushed the mirrorlike surface, and in the pond she caught a glimpse of the truth she could not see — eyes in a face made of tinted glass, blue as the sky above and sparkling like the sea below.

At the touch of her hand, the silver water clung to her fingers and spun itself into a ball, hovering over her hand.

Linh gasped and backed away. The water-ball shattered and droplets of moonlight rained down on the grass.

Why am I manifesting already?

Because, the pond assured. Because.

"Tam!" Linh tore open the thick curtains from the windows of their shared room, letting the early morning light stream into the room. She shook him. "Tam! Wake up!"

Tam squinted and raised a hand to his eyes to block out the light. "Wossgoingon?"

"You have to come with me!" There must have been something in Linh's voice that said urgency, because Tam got up without another word and let her drag him outside into the garden, still rubbing his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked when Linh finally stopped.

The koi pond was now painted fire-gold by the sunrise, and the reflection of their faces rippled and blurred in the water. Linh kneeled down on the grass. "Watch this."

She cupped her palms and dipped them into the water. She pulled her hands up and, with a single sculptor's stroke, fashioned a golden ball out of the water, which lay rippling in her hands.

Tam staggered back. "How did you do that?"

"Nari says I manifested."

"That's impossible. It can't be."

"Look in the water, Tam." She held out her hands for her brother to see. "It reflects into our eyes the truths we cannot see."

Tam's eyes widened even more, then his brow furrowed as if in confusion. Almost as if he had seen something in his reflection that Linh had not.

"It's some trick," he said, still shaking his head. "You haven't — it's not possible —" Curious, he poked the ball of water with his finger. It burst and shattered into a million pieces, dotting the grass with sunlight.

"It's true, Tam," said Linh, gathering up the golden drops and pulling them back together in her hands. "I'm a Hydrokinetic."

Tam was silent. Linh waited in anticipation for his question — How? or You're too young! maybe. But instead he said, "Can I try?" He held out his hands.

Linh gently rolled the water-ball out of her fingers. But as soon as the ball touched Tam's skin, it burst again.

Tam looked defeated — a look Linh had never seen on his face in all her life. "It's okay," she said, to comfort him. "Maybe you'll manifest soon."

"But why do you get to first?" he asked, sounding like the petulant child their father often made him out to be. "We're supposed to do everything together!"

"I can't help it, Tam!" Her eyes were glistening and his face was red. A fire had been lit and the water beneath was bubbling and boiling. "It's not my fault I got my special ability before you! You're just jealous!"

"I don't even want a stupid ability like yours!" he burst. "I don't want a special ability at all, if what I saw in that cursed ball of water is the truth!"

"What did you see, Tam?" A sudden dread came over Linh. "Are you a Pyrokinetic?"

"What? Of course not." He shook his head vehemently. "No, I saw . . . I saw Father's face reflected there, instead of mine. But it was odd. It was like he was encased in fog — or a shadow."

"Is that what I think it means?"

Tam nodded grimly. "I'm going to be a Shade. Like Father." He put his head in his hands. "This is terrible."

"What are you talking about? He'll be so happy! And proud; he'll be proud of you."

"Being a Shade won't change his opinion of me," he said dejectedly. "He's already decided I'm a disappointment. Having his ability would just increase my chances to mess up."

"That's not true. Father thinks —" Linh stopped. How did she know what their father thought of her and Tam? Maybe it was the way he looked at only Tam when they were together, or how he brushed Tam's hair from his sleeping face at night when he thought Linh was asleep. The smallest of indications, but Linh needed no reflecting pool to be certain of the truth. "He has always preferred his son to his daughter. It's me who will increase my chances to mess up. He's always wanted you to follow in his footsteps, to be the next Shade in the Song family."

"But I don't want to be like him, Linh!"

"You never were, you're not, and you won't be," she said. "Having the same ability doesn't mean you're the same. You're more than Father will ever be. You're smart, caring, brave —"

"— disappointing."

The wave of longing had borne Tam down years ago, had made him crave his father's approval, even as he shoved Tam aside and turned away. "That's not true. What Father thinks of you isn't true."

Reflections show the truth, but truth is in the eye of the beholder.

And two pairs of eyes, Shade eyes, stared at the truth in reflections of each other.

The next night, Linh was still afraid to sleep. But the wave of fatigue finally bore her down, and she collapsed in the garden, where Nari sang to her and carried her back to her bed.

She again dreamt of the spinning face, where shadows now poured out from the black eye and water from the blue one. And Linh could only watch in horror as a jeweled city she had never seen was swept off its feet by a dark tide.

Linh woke up drenched in sweat and cold as the sea. The moisture on her hand sparkled silver and, in front of her disbelieving eyes, changed into the jeweled city, drowning in her deluge.

She blinked hard and the image vanished. What was it?

Shades could sense potential for darkness in people. She had never heard of anything like it, but maybe Hydrokinetics could see that sort of potential in water. Linh wouldn't know; she'd never met another Hydrokinetic.

She did know one thing though, in her heart of hearts.

No one can know.

A/N: So . . . yeah, that was the first chapter! I hope you liked it, and I'd really appreciate it if you could take a moment to jot down a quick review! I welcome all criticism as long as it is constructive, and I hope to have Ch2 up soon-ish. Bye!