Page 95 of Unseen Eye
“What’s your affinity?” he asks, as his eyes meet mine.
My mouth goes dry. “Light,” I manage, barely a whisper. “I’m a light wielder.”
Cleary grunts, as if confirming something he’s suspected all along. “The last light wielder was also from Catalpa.”
The truth crashes over me, relentless and cold. I am Kora’s daughter. A princess? No… it’s too much. I feel dizzy, my world tilting on its axis. All my life, I’ve been nobody, a girl from a small village—now, to find this… I stagger, reaching blindly for a chair, the ground beneath me slipping away.
“The dream…” I hear myself whisper, a distant echo. Pieces of it flash in my mind: the woman’s tear-streaked face, her arms cradling a child, her whisper, “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” I see her again. Her face shimmering, her voice breaking as she clutched her baby. I was that baby. She was my mother.
Cal kneels beside me, his voice barely a murmur. “What is it?”
My chest tightens, my voice trembling, louder this time. “I saw her. In my dream, I saw the night I was born. She held me, she—she loved me,” the words spill out, thick with grief and longing. “I had a mother.” I clutch the necklace, the one thing I have left of her. “Someone who wanted me, who tried to protect me. And now… she’s gone. I don’t know if I want to scream or cry.”
The realization floods me with a strange mix of relief and devastation. I finally know who my mother was, and yet it feels like losing her all over again, sharper and more final.
I don’t have time to process any of this before Cleary asks, “Kendry raised you? Where?”
“Yes, my whole life, in a village called Pinebrook in Providence. You knew him?” Now it’s my turn for a question, my voice tinged with desperation.
“Everyone loved Kendry. He was one of your mother’sadvisers. I honestly thought he was dead, and you too,” he adds with a shrug, the casualness of his tone clashing with the bombshell he’s just dropped.
Cal’s gaze darkens, his tone sharpening as he faces Cleary. “Was it common knowledge that Kora was pregnant? I hadn’t heard even a rumor.”
Cleary blinks, a shadow passing over his face. “Of course you wouldn’t. Kora kept it secret, even within the castle. She was gifted with glammers, able to disguise herself. Only a handful of us knew, and she trusted us to keep it from the world.”
“But why would she go to such lengths?” My voice cracks, desperate for answers.
Cleary sighs, a sadness lacing his words. “To protect you. To shield herself from those who would use her weakness against her. The night Catalpa was attacked was the night you were born… the night Kora was at her most vulnerable.”
His voice drops, almost a whisper. “She gave her life for you. She loved you more than you’ll ever know.”
The weight of it all crashes into me, like a storm I can’t escape. I choke on the flood of emotions—grief, anger, longing—all mingling and tearing through me. She hid me, shielded me from a world that wanted to destroy her. I had a mother who loved me—fiercely and deeply. And I never knew her, not until now.
Cleary stands back, watching the exchange unfold, his eyes softening with a strange, almost reverent understanding. His gaze on me feels like he’s seeing something beyond the here and now, as though he’s looking straight through me into something ancient, something I’m only beginning to understand.
“You’re a seer too,” he murmurs, almost in awe, his words heavy with revelation. It’s not just a statement; it’s like he’s seeing a prophecy unfold before him.
“What do you mean ‘too’?” Theo is the first to recover, though his voice still trembles. He sounds more bewildered thananything else, like he’s grasping at the last shreds of logic in a world that’s gone mad.
Cleary turns to him, his expression darkening. “Kora was a seer. One of the most gifted. In fact,” his voice dips lower, laced with a regretful reverence, “I believe it’s why she was killed. Someone found out—a wrong someone.”
It’s like a puzzle suddenly snapping together, each piece falling neatly into place. Somewhere inside me, it feels like this knowledge has been waiting, dormant, for this exact moment to surface. I see flashes of it—bits of the dream. My mother’s face soft with sorrow as she held me. Her whispered words weighted with a future she knew she’d never see. And yet… there’s still one missing piece, one gaping hole in this new identity I’m trying to claim.
I look up at Cleary, my voice barely holding together. “Who… who is my father?”
Cleary hesitates, a shadow of sympathy crossing his face. For the first time, he seems unsure, as though he’s weighing the cost of his words. “That part… I don’t know.” He says it almost reluctantly, like he wishes he could offer more. “No one knew. Kora was never married. She wasn’t known to have any relationships, so… it was quite unexpected when we found out.”
“The plot thickens,” Izzy mutters, but her usual edge is softened, her voice strained with disbelief.
My stomach twists, frustration clawing its way up. This revelation feels only half-formed, and I need more—I need to know who I am. “But surely you must suspect someone,” I plead, my voice rising, desperation clear in every word. “Someone had to know.”
Cleary shakes his head, and there’s a note of finality in his voice that stings. “I wasn’t privy to any such knowledge. But if I had to guess… it was no one from Catalpa.” He glances at me with a mixture of pity and respect, a silent promise that this, atleast, is the truth as he knows it.
He straightens, clearing his throat, his tone shifting back to something more matter-of-fact. “I’ll have the book transcribed by the end of the week.” He nods in my direction, an acknowledgment, a thank you, maybe even an apology. “Thank you for bringing her here,” he says to Cal before he steps into the back room, shutting the door with a quiet finality, leaving us in the heavy silence of what’s been revealed.
It’s Izzy who breaks the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”
But I don’t have an answer. The world I thought I knew has been ripped away, replaced by a family I’ll never meet, a destiny I barely understand, and a mother whose love I’m only just discovering… and will never truly know.
