Chapter Eighty-two

Origins

We gathered into one of our rooms before bed just to talk. After being underground for several days, in constant danger, we needed something a little more lighthearted. Sephra asked Melima how it was that she discovered her powers.

Melima pulled a book out of her bag. "This is a journal entry I had written about my first experience with magic."

She read from the well-worn pages. "It was adolescence when I first noticed obvious differences between me and my siblings. I came into the world early. I was small and still, and unlike most infants, I was quiet, calm, and alert. My soul held immense depth and intelligence that many recognized immediately. In my day-to-day activities, I was timid, obedient, and focused.

"Forever preparing for the inevitable, becoming Her Majesty, Melima Moonfeather, Queen of the High Elven Kingdom, my intense studies and training made a normal childhood impossible. I was mostly on my own or with my tutors studying politics, policies, and the religious reigns of historical Majestys who shaped our ancestry.

"That was the goal at least. As I could get away with it, I found solace in my storybooks. I lived within the pages of worlds without number. Incredible places that were filled with stories of adventure, heroes, and treasure. I soaked my soul in the warrior high and the wander's joy as my favorite characters transformed the dusty walls around me into visions of grandeur I would never know.

"As much as I craved the stories that lead to a world unknown, I personally would never be found in them. I could never leave the palace walls. Never under any circumstances was I allowed to leave the safety of our kingdom. Whenever I pleaded with my parents for just a little leeway, their answer was always, 'not yet. You must train more, and prepare more before you are ready.' That was the end of it. No more elaborating, no more discussion.

"Each midday, I and my eldest brothers had basic defense training. Archery, longsword, shortsword, daggers, quarterstaff, sling, and hand-to-hand combat. It was never fun. They were better— even gifted in their physical abilities. Murios, in particular, showed impressive skill with the javelin. It wasn't long into his training that he was recommended and recruited for the White Guard.

"All the attention humble Murios encountered was not well received. Not by him, or his arrogant and jealous older brother Kahlid. It had been two weeks since Murios' recruitment into the White Guard. Soon he would replace the time he spent training with us to practice with the White Guard. This afternoon's training was brutal. Kahlid, on top of his foul mood, insisted that we compete in every skill to determine our rank between each other.

"Of course we began with all the categories Kahild was best in. Longsword, shortsword, daggers— Kahlid came in first every time, inflating his massive ego exponentially after every win. With a dangerous glint in his eye, Kahlid grabbed the javelin and stared directly at Murios. 'How are you feeling, kid? Ready for—'

"Before Kahlid could finish, Murios snatched the javelin out of his hands and launched it toward the target. The weapon cut through the air in a perfect arc and pierced the target in the exact bullseye.

"The glint was gone, and in its place rage seethed through Kahlid as he gestured for Murios to retrieve the javelin. Calmly and swiftly, Murios returned with the weapon and paused in front of Kahlid. Hesitant, he held it out to his brother. I flinched as he ripped it from his hands.

"I had seen my brothers get competitive, at times the castle walls would reverberate from their all-out brawls. It was normal to have a little healthy competition between us during training. The energy rolling off of Kahlid was anything but healthy.

"Carefully, he got into position and with every muscle taut he aimed at the target. He took a deep breath and launched his weapon. It hit with a resounding thwack. It was a great hit. Any normal athlete would have been satisfied and maybe even a little impressed.

"Kahlid wasn't impressed. He ran over to the target and analyzed the hit. Cursing, he ripped the javelin out. It had hit three inches to the left of Murios' mark and right on the line of the bullseye. 'Again!' he bellowed.

"Lansear and I eyed Murios, but he was still and unreadable. He had gained all the emotional control that Kahlid lacked. After years of temper tantrums and catering to his brother's arrogance and fragile self-esteem, he had become the master of silent self-restraint.

"Kahlid approached and shoved the javelin into Murios' chest. It was obvious this was no longer a friendly competition, Lansear and I could have vaporized into a puff of purple smoke and wouldn't be missed. Murios gripped the weapon and looked into his seething brother's eyes.

"'Kahlid, let's not do this,' he began.

"'Throw it,' he cut sharply.

"Murios sighed, turned toward his target, positioned himself, and threw his weapon. It hit again, directly into the mark he made the first time.

"At this point, we all knew how this would end. After countless setups, varying distances, every excuse in the book, Kahlid would surrender and either take off enraged to vent out his frustrations, or if it was a bad day, get into a physical altercation with one of us. He was much bigger and stronger than all of us, and when in a mood, terrifying. None of us could beat Kahlid in hand-to-hand combat when he was in a good mood and we knew from awful experience he would never let us go when in a bad one.

"'How about the quarterstaff next?' I quickly called out, 'I'd love to get a few whacks in before you go, Murios!' I grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards the other side of the arena.

"'I'm not done with him yet,' Kahlid muttered as he yanked Murios' other hand. He started to drag both of us back towards the javelins.

"'Kahlid... stop,' I grunted as I tried to pull against him. 'Let it go... You will never be better than him!' I screamed.

"Murios, in addition to my brother, was also my best friend. It wasn't a secret that I favored him above Kahlid. I think most of the family were pretty clear that they preferred Murios, and were elated but distraught at his promotion and eventual leaving for the White Guard.

"Kahlid stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders tensed and he began to shake. His hand was white from gripping Murios so tight. 'Kahlid, stop... Let go... Ow...' He cursed. 'She didn't mean it!" Murios tried desperately to get his hand free.

"In the blink of an eye, Kahlid had him on the ground and began drilling his fists into his head and chest. Murios started screaming and thrashing in obvious pain, but it only made Kahlid more aggressive.

"'Please, stop! You are going to kill him!' Lansear cried as he grabbed him from behind and tried pulling him off. Kahlid yanked him over his shoulder and threw him on the ground and began beating him. Murios lay motionless on the ground bloodied and bruised, knocked unconscious.

"I stood there, frozen. Barely an adult, I watched my grown brother beat his younger brothers out of sheer self-loathing. I was in shock and completely disassociated from myself when I began walking towards him. I felt a spark of something hot and wild course through me. It made my blood boil and nerves crackle and the corners of my vision sparked with bright blue light. With every step I took, the energy intensified until I stood right behind Kahlid.

"'You need to stop now.' The words left my mouth, but sounded nothing like me. Powerful, demanding, electric.

"He whipped around and tried to pull me down, but I was faster. My hands wrapped around his neck and I felt white-hot crackling energy drain from me. He let me go and immediately began to convulse. As if being electrocuted, his limbs went rigid and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"I let go and he fell to the ground, limp. From a distance, I could hear someone calling out to me, but my vision was swimming and I was fading into myself. I fell to the ground as someone approached us and everything went dark.

"The air was musty and damp in the medical wing. Hardly any natural light filtered in from the small windows. I just wanted to be outside. I was fine. Other than hallucinating and passing out, nothing happened to me. My brothers on the other hand apparently needed more intense medical attention and were being attended to separately and in their own rooms. It was honestly completely unfair I had to sit here alone, cold, worried for their safety, and unable to see them while they enjoyed recovery in their familiar beds.

"I was trying desperately to not think about what had happened. When I pictured my brothers—Lansear being pulled to the ground, Murios lying limp, the anger in Kahlid's face—the tips of my fingers began to prickle. I took multiple deep breaths to calm whatever was bubbling inside me.

"'Right... Outside. Warmth. Light. Trees. Birds...' I repeated the mantra in my head and tried to insert myself into the fantasy.

"'Melima, your father will see you now.' Clareen, the resident nurse, broke me out of my meditation.

"'My father?' I gaffed. 'I'd like to see my brothers first if—'

"'You need to meet with your father before you visit with your brothers. He must speak with you about what happened today,' she cut in.

"Oh no, they're dead... My eyes wide, I stared at her horrified. She could sense my thoughts and smiled.

"'Melima, the boys are fine. They will be back to their regular antics by tomorrow. You, on the other hand, have some intense self-discovery to unravel.'

"'What? I'm sorry, I went into shock and passed out. What is there to "unravel" about that?'

"She chuckled. 'Shock... Yes, there was a lot of that. Here...' she grabbed my hand and turned it over. 'Look here at your wrist, were these blue lines here yesterday?'

"I examined where she gestured and sure enough, a faint blue scale pattern developed that wasn't there before.

"'What the...?' I started to rub along my wrist with my other hand. The nurse gently placed her hand on mine.

"'Go speak with your father. You have much to discuss.' With that, she got up and began to bustle about her duties.

"Clareen gave no indication of how my father was going to react to the incident. Whatever fault I perceived I had couldn't be real because what I thought happened, didn't. It just doesn't make sense. But if it didn't happen, and if I didn't hurt anyone, why would my father want to meet with me before I saw the boys? Was he just as concerned as I was that I had gone mad? Was he upset I didn't intervene sooner?

"I paced the hallway outside my father's study. My mind was running in circles as I tried desperately to unravel them. Was it all a panic-induced vision? Choking my much larger brother out while in a rage seemed pretty far-fetched, even more so to think I somehow... electrocuted him. That can't be possible.

"But he was 'recovering,' from what? Could I have somehow actually hurt him and only imagined the impossible? Did he and Lansear get into it after I was out? No way would I have been able to choke... strangle... shock Kahlid because of the sheer size of his neck alone. My hands would never have been able to fit—

"My thoughts were interrupted as I examined my wrists again. I skimmed my fingers along the faint blue lines etched into my skin. It looked like armored scales, all carefully linked together. Its synchrony was delicate but powerful. If it wasn't so bizarre, I'd think it was pretty. The appearance of the pattern was irrevocable proof that something had changed within me. Whatever happened in the arena awoke something within, and I was no longer the same woman I started the day as.

"Just then, I heard my father's thick, wooden study door swing open. 'Melima, would you please stop pacing? You are making the rats dizzy,' my father called out.

"I could hear the smile in his voice. At least he didn't sound mad. Sure, he was the King of the High Elven Kingdom, but he was still a dad. And not even he could escape the opportunity for a terrible joke. Whatever he wanted to discuss, he was anxiously anticipating it and possibly... looking forward to it?

"As I entered his office, the familiar scent of burning incense greeted me. The aroma invited decades worth of memories to surface. So many times, I sat here and counseled with my father on every topic imaginable. No matter the tone of our conversation, I could always trust he would be wise and kind and have the answers I sought. I inhaled deeply as I sat, hoping the cleansing scent would calm the fluttering in my chest. 'Melima, how are you feeling?' he began.

"I shook my head, 'I wasn't expecting you to start with that.' How was I feeling? Conflicted, worried, anxious. But also a little excited and itchy? I absentmindedly scratched at my wrist.

"'I don't think I can sum it up into words. I am worried for the boys, ashamed for what happened—' I added.

"'How about physically?' he interjected.

"'Physically?' I asked incredulously. 'I feel fine. Nothing happened to me. I fainted. I thought you knew that.'

"'Before you lost consciousness, explain to me what happened. Carleen said you think you hallucinated?'

"'Oh, that.' It was only the most intense and incredible experience of my life, I admitted to myself. "'It was nothing. Just me intervening during the fight.'

"My father just stared at me and patiently waited for me to continue with the truth. He knew when I wasn't being completely honest and didn't have to speak a word to remind me. The warmth and twinkle in his gaze gave me all the permission I needed.

"I gave in, I spilled my heart out to him. I described every detail of my experience. I felt the tightness in my chest release as I expressed my amazement and wonder from the power I felt. I told him of Kahlid's expression of bewilderment as the energy rumbling inside me transferred into him. As I recounted my experience, I could feel my heart begin to race and my hands begin to tingle. I wanted to feel it again. I wanted whatever was inside me to take over once more just to feel that high again.

"I abruptly stopped, embarrassed at my intensity. I glanced towards my father. To my surprise, he was smiling. 'What are you so happy about? Doesn't it concern you that the heir to the throne is having violent visions of harming her loved ones?' I demanded.

"'I would be, If that were the case,' he replied coyly.

"'I don't understand," I admitted cautiously.

"'Right now your three brothers are each being treated for the injuries they sustained during the fight today. Murios and Lansear both sustained blunt force trauma, as to be expected. But Kahlid is receiving extensive treatment for burns he received after being electrocuted.'

"My jaw fell open, and I stared at him in bewilderment. 'So, it wasn't a hallucination? That actually happened?'

"'My dear, what happened between you and Kahlid was real, and very powerful.'

"I stared at him blankly, attempting to process the impossible. 'You have shown an aptitude for rare abilities our family hasn't seen for generations.'

"'Abilities? Are you implying, I have... magic?' I asked dubiously.

"'Something like that." He grinned.

"'But... how? I always read magical abilities manifested way early in life. and I am already of age and I'm just now experiencing them?'

"'I agree,' he confessed. 'It is rather strange your powers—'

"I interrupted with a short laugh. 'Oh, sorry Father. I am just not used to hearing those things together.'

"'Whatever do you mean?'

"'Me, and powers. Compared to the boys, I have never felt "powerful." At least not as powerful as I did at that moment...' I trailed off, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"He didn't say anything, but gently gestured for me to continue.

"'I feel absolutely awful for the pain I caused Kahlid. Part of me never wants to see that side of myself again. The energy... My powers... It came from such an intense feeling I doubt I could ever organically replicate it...' I stared at the floor in frustration.

"'And the other part of you?" he urged.

"'...hasn't stopped thinking about it. When I focus on it, I can actually feel my hands prickle. I'm craving to experience it again. It's like I didn't know I was hungry and as soon as I had a taste, I am absolutely starving for more. Dad, I don't know how to control it. I'm scared of what it means and who I'll become if I embrace it but... I don't think I have a choice.' Just saying it out loud seemed to shift something inside me. The flicker inside my chest grew hot and the tingling intensified.

"'Melima, my dear. You have always been immensely powerful. These abilities only add to the greatness already there.' He grabbed my hand and looked directly into my eyes. He was filled with intensity when he said, 'I know what Kahlid did and why he did it. You acted in self-defense and profound love for your siblings. Whatever feeling you experienced, though intense, was good. You are good to the core and I know as you embrace this part of yourself you will come to see how powerful being good can be.'

"I let out the breath I was holding as I settled into my new reality. My eyes glistening, I gave his hand a squeeze."

She looked up at us, then turned forward several pages in her journal. "Then, several years later...

"'Ha!' I barked. 'Ya wanna see something "good?"' I snapped my fingers and a blue fireball ignited in my palm. 'OooOooo,' I called as I sloppily maneuvered it from one hand to the other.

"'And watch this!' I threw the flame in the air, spun in a circle then held my hand out to catch it.

"The fire was long gone, it had fallen right past me and into the dirty puddle at my feet. I stared at it menacingly. It had been two decades since that first fateful incident.

"Kahlid had thrown himself into a new hobby, one where he could take out his aggression and power trip over the high he experienced controlling others. Sometimes it even turned out well for his subjects. Kahlid had become our family politician. That, and a specific blend of calming botanicals from our resident alchemist, and Kahlid was doing very well.

"I, on the other hand, was sloshed, completely out of control, and talking to a cat. 'Ah... Mister Friskywhiskers, can you believe it? Here he comes, captain of the arse, himself, here to save the soggy princess. From whoooo you ask? Why, herself.'

"I curtsied and grinned dreamily at the cat as Kahlid approached. 'Let's go, you swampy witch. You smell like a tavern.'

"'Mmm, yes. You would know... And it's sorcerer to you, Kahlid!'"

Melima snapped her journal shut. "I went crazy, I went really chaotic. I was running away from my gift, my curse. It was completely changing me. I didn't know how to handle it. I went into a self-destructive spiral and lost a lot of myself. My experience with my powers manifesting— The High Elven kingdom is incredibly racist, and my powers were seen as risque or inappropriate because it was a representation of infidelity up the line. People started being cruel, bitter, and awful to me because I started really looking different. I think my father saw that I just needed to get out, both to help me calm down, but also to learn more and find myself."

I glanced at her arms. I realized that her scales were darker and more pronounced than when I'd first met her. Had I not noticed because I was with her all the time?

Ari'yasa broke the silence that had flooded the room. "So, did your father explicitly tell you that you are no longer in line for the throne? Or was there just an understanding that you were asked to leave and they're leaning towards your brother now?"

"That's a heavily loaded question. What my father told me in a note was it was for my safety, but he didn't explicitly say 'you won't be heir to the throne,' it was just, 'you gotta go. You're not only a danger to yourself, but putting yourself in these situations is making yourself vulnerable to others that would harm you. And, so, you gotta go figure yourself out, but also stay away from the kingdom because it's dangerous.'"

"So, your dad's hoping that because you're out of sight, it's going to be 'out of sight, out of mind' kind of thing? You're going to focus on something else and hope that nothing bad happens to you?"

"I don't know. I feel like I've been ostracised and kicked out. I have to go figure myself out. I've wasted my opportunity to reign and everyone is disappointed in me."

"Do you think your brother wants you dead?" Ari'yasa asked.

"Probably. He's been better about hiding the fact that he's a sociopath lately, but he still is one."

I shook my head. I hated politics, they made my head spin. That was part of the reason I usually let Melima talk for our group. Kahlid sounded like a psycho. It was crazy how similar Melima and I were too. Royals who could be killed by their own people.

"I want to know more about your story, Tawariell," Melima said. "I know you have this royal blood and your parents defected."

I grimaced. "I don't know a lot about their history. Growing up, they were just woodcarvers that lived with the humans, and that was just how I grew up. As we've been traveling, I've found out that my dad was part of the White Guard and that my mother's name was the royal family of the wood elves, and then found out that she was the daughter of the matriarch. Not the heir, but close. That's about what I know, other than there's been this coup and my family is no longer in charge and has kinda been chased out. That's about all I know."

"That's interesting."

"And then there was Shadow..."

"Who's Shadow?

"Have I not...? So, backing up further— One day I was out in the woods, just exploring, because that's what I did, I loved it. Exploring new lands, learning new things, meeting new people. One day I heard a snap and looked up to see what it was, and it was this beautiful young green dragon. And I was so excited, I'd never seen a dragon before. I tried to sneak a little bit closer, but I stepped on a twig, and it saw me. And it flew at me, and it just started attacking me, tearing at me mercilessly, biting at me. I tried to fight it off as best as I could with my quarterstaff, but it was the end for me. I couldn't get out, I was done.

"Right before I passed out from the pain, I saw an arrow hit it in its side, and it fell on top of me and I passed out. When I woke up, it was right next to me on the side. There actually was an arrow—I wasn't sure if I'd been hallucinating or if there actually had been an arrow—but there was an arrow. And the first thing I saw was its mouth, and I was like, 'it's still after me!' Then I realized, no— there's an arrow in its side, it's not moving, it's dead.

"There was something heavy on my shoulder, and I could hear fire. I looked over and there was somebody in a cloak just sitting at a fire. And he said, 'so, you're awake.' I was like, 'what?'

"He said, 'I wouldn't move too much if I were you, you took quite the beating. But you defended yourself well. Not many would have survived before my arrow hit.'

"I asked him what his name was, and he said, 'that doesn't matter, you can call me Shadow.'

"Shadow, he nursed me back to health. He took care of the dragon remains, but before he did that, he showed me different parts of the dragon. He cut off a claw and he made it into a necklace. I still wear that necklace all the time.

"I begged him to teach me. His ways of medicine, his ways of fighting, and he trained me to be a ranger. And we traveled for a couple months together, for a few months. Then one morning he was just gone. No idea where he went.

"I never heard of him again. I'd ask around, I never heard of him again."

I laughed quietly to myself. "Until I talked to E'ran. One of the Guards at the White Tree. And he said that another friend, another one of the Guards, would call my father Shadow."

Melima gasped. "It was your dad!"

"It was my dad! I had no idea."

"Did he know that you were his daughter?"

"Oh, yeah. I was just me. I looked the same when I left home as when I came back home, because I would leave home for a few months at a time, maybe."

"That's awesome!"

"What threw me off most was that it was a human that trained me. Shadow was Human, so I never would have thought that it was my father."

"So, are you Human?"

"No, my dad was a high elf. I found out that one of the Guards taught him how to disguise himself with the race. I was so enamored with going out and learning about new cultures, I didn't realize how much was in my own house!"

"Again and again, I find that elves are manic about their perfectness," Jörgen muttered. "This is good chicken!" I looked over. He wasn't eating chicken, he was eating pork.

We prepared for bed, Melima and Sephra taking one room, Jörgen, Ari'yasa, and I taking the other. I offered to put my bedroll on the floor— It wasn't going to be any worse than what I'd been sleeping on.