Page 62 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
seventeen
. . .
Ever
The weight of the chain around my neck feels like a noose, ready to choke the life from me. Drain me. But, out of defiance, if nothing else, I keep my head high as I continue the walk back to The Court, following the few people in the procession ahead of me.
Nobody has uttered a word, provided an explanation, or told me what a Fifth is.
And, alarmingly, I can sense the underlying fear of everyone through the very steps I take, as if the ground is now my personal whisperer, telling me its secrets.
It seems the people who gathered to watch the ceremony—watch my anguish—have spread the news because the happy, celebratory feeling that infused The Court and homes as I walked out here now feels still and silent, all eyes on me as I walk the cobbled streets, much like the first time I came here.
Judgement. Concern. And fear, all etched on their faces, before they turn away from my eyes.
Gosh, how was it only a few weeks ago?
Nobody speaks, but I endure the discomfort, the feeling of wanting to crack open and falter. I won’t let them have this. I won’t let them see my weakness.
The pain on that altar—the sheer terror flaming to life inside of my mind—now tells me that I can suffer far more than I ever thought possible. And I will bend that knowledge into a shield so thick, so complete, that I will never have to feel pain like it again.
Nobody will see that side of me or witness my pain ever again. That is mine alone.
As we reach The Tower, I turn to see the rest of the people who stayed to observe the completion of my Transference. I’d expected some grand words, gestures—anything. Not this… silence. An anti-climax for sure.
Not even the Maker speaks, verbally or through my mind.
She watches me, though.
So, with a newfound courage, I step towards her, seeking her out, and look deep into those scarred and hollow eyes. At least where they once were.“What now, Witch?”I push my voice into her head.
“Now, you train.”
She turns from me and vanishes with the others of her Triune back into The Tower.
I turn to Lyle, who looks as pale as winter. That bleak look she first wore as we fled here, now reaffirmed. I’m not entirely sure what took place between us during the Transference, although I was aware of her. She didn’t stop it. I’m not the same Order as her, or anyone else. But she played a part, and I choose to believe she didn’t know what would happen to me—what has happened to me. I don’t feel… different. There was no rush, no strength suddenly inside of me. Maybe a Fifth is a mistake. There aren’t any mentions in the books I’ve read, and that might be the reason. Micah said not to expect too much.
“Thank you for your service, Lyle,” Orion Ciro bellows, attracting everyone’s attention. “For your crime of harbouring a Fifth, you are hereby banished from Kirrasia.”
“What?” I whirl and look between the people standing behind me, watching Orion. Even in the dim light, his eyes shine with darkness. “No!” I start. “No, you can’t do that. She didn’t know. She can’t leave me.” My panic grips, focusing my mind on the events now unfolding as I tear my eyes from his harsh ones to Lyle’s.
The same look of fear that I first saw when I came to on the floor of our home now coats her face. But there is more. There’s sadness. Heartache. Both call to me in a way only I can understand—recognise—because it’s a mirror of what I’m feeling now.
“She is a Watcher. She was careless. And despite her time under our… care, now she must leave.” His words are harsh and filled with anger as if it is Lyle and not their almighty Goddess at fault.
“It’s fine, Ever. I have our home to return to. My life.”
“Our home. Our life. I can come with you,” I state.
A collective gasp sounds around us. “You must complete your training to master your power. Only then will your path be decided. That is the order of things. We cannot let you go back to Estereah,” Kamari states, her voice firm but kind, unlike the blunt command of Orion Ciro’s.
“You don’t get to choose for me. I can?—”
“You must train, Ever. Understand your magic,” Lyle interrupts me, settling my frayed nerves.
I want to crack. I want to sob. I want to rage.
But the look on Lyle’s face halts everything from erupting. She’s resigned. She wants me to stay.
