My hands shake as I try to remember the calming techniques my mother taught me.
“You are stronger than stone, fluid as water, powerful as fire, and sharp as the wind.”
I land sharply on my bedroll.
The memories of life before Kathera’s rule flash before my eyes. I should have been killed for being a seer. If it were not for Kathera, I would be.
Suddenly, I see it again, our tiny desert home. My mother stands in the kitchen, her long braids hanging low down her back, each one telling the story of a battle won. Earned beauty, learned grace.
“Mother!” I yell, running toward her.
She opens her arms wide and wraps me in a hug so tight it wraps around my heart.
She laughs. “My dearest Amiranthia,” she always calls me by my full name, “what trouble did you get into today?”
A smile spreads across my dirt-streaked face. “I chased down some Antron lizards. I almost caught one.”
“Well, you will need to be quicker next time to catch them.”
I turn to see my father standing tall in the doorway, looking as though he could move a mountain itself. He forces a smile, though it is usually effortless.
My mother’s face changes; that unreadable mask she wears only during council meetings with the people of Calin—the face of unmoving stone.
“What happened?”
“Two strangers have entered the village.”
“What do they want?”
My father glances at me. “Amiranthia.”
My blood goes cold. Me? Why? Is chasing Antron lizards illegal? The ground feels like it is tilting toward me.
“Me?” My voice sounds small, too small for someone ten winters old.
My parents look at each other, a silent conversation between soulmates.
“Talk to me!” I yell, stomping my feet.
She meets my eyes, her voice trembling despite her calm expression. “Just a moment, Amiranthia.”
A knock sounds at the door, soft but steady.
“Do not let them take me!” I shout and run to my room.
I hear the door open, the soft creak of floorboards, and muffled voices.
I creep to the door and open it a crack, just enough to see.
“We have come because the future Empress needs your daughter.”
“But she is only ten winters old!” my father says, shocked.
“Ewind,” my mother murmurs, placing a hand on his shoulder, “she has a duty. So do we. We will prepare for the day she returns to her people.”
Then she turns to the strangers. “You must promise she will be protected. Swear the pact of Hithis, god of agreements and treaties.”
The man is the most rigid person I have ever seen, standing beside a woman who looks as though she could float. He extends his hand. “I will protect her with my life, as if she were my own.”
My mother clasps his hand. “A promise made must be kept.”
A bright light fills the room. Both of them wince as markings sear into their forearms. My mother now bears two crossed swords, the man a crescent moon, the symbol of our village.
I burst from my room, throwing myself between my parents. I cannot believe they are letting these strangers take me.
They kneel, eyes level with mine.
“Amiranthia,” my mother begins, “everyone has a destiny, a duty to fulfill.”
She glances at my father, tears welling in her eyes.
“I thought I was meant to take your place caring for the village,” I whisper, my voice thick with fear.
“You will,” my father says softly. “But first, you must complete your duty. One day, when the world is safe, you will return to us.”
He cups my cheek. “You are forever our daughter of strength. Do not let anything steal your spark. You are my little light, and now, you will be our world’s light.”
I left that night with two strangers, each bearing the glowing marks of their vow, and I would soon learn what those symbols truly meant.
I land sharply on my bedroll again, the past still clinging like dust to my skin.
I stare toward the nearby grove. Midday light filters through the canopy, sprinkling gold across dark, glistening leaves. I lie back and exhale, a heavy breath that feels pushed from my lungs.
I hate when the memories come so fast. It is like I cannot breathe, even when there is plenty of air.
I steady my breathing, once, twice, before more memories flash behind my eyes.
The years that followed.
The endless training.
The discipline of blade and magic.
They told me I was to be Kathera’s right hand, her protector, her equal in battle. I never planned for her to become my friend.
Now time has stopped. And every day is a repeat of the day she left us.