Page 39 of Shattered Heir
“What—?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as if he were studying me, as if he did not know what to make of me.
Am I really just a bird in a broken cage? Am I so obviously strange and broken? Is one of my wings injured? Will I never escape? Will I never fly away?
“You coming, highness?” Ryker called from the driveway.
That seemed to break the spell we were under. Shad shook his head, turned, and walked away, down the steps.
I didn’t move as I watched them drive off; I sunk to the ground in a heap upon the steps.
Chapter Seventeen
“Iam focusing on my entire melody.”
“No, focus on each note as an individual entity. Every single note represents a different part of who you are. Name each one of them. Remember each one as an individual piece, and call to it; accept that it is you, part of you.”
“What?” I asked, opening my eyes. The week had been a long and draining one. Between dodging Cade and trying not to cry every single time Shad scowled at me, I didn't know what was going to become of me, or of the people I cared about. Even though I didn’t know if there was a real chance for Shad or a chance for us, I was willing to work as hard as I needed to work in order to get him back. If that meant training with Keil and learning about my Magical race, then so be it. I also was determined to get the annoying voice—the voice that was Cade—out of my head.
I let myself think and focus. The first note I knew the best, so I thought of it. I called to it. I could see its image and shape within my mind. I gasped, as I saw it right there before me. That first note was a memory.
I looked at Keil.
“What is this?” I said
“Do you see the note?”
“Yes, it is a memory.”
“It isn’t a memory, exactly; although, I guess, yes, it may be that, too. Still, it is a piece of who you are. You need to learn what it really is, and then you must accept it as a part of who you are.”
“Okay.”
“This isn’t easy, Emma. It takes years to come to know who you really are. You do not need to know every single note right now. It could take a lifetime to come to know each one clearly, but you do need to accept yourself for who you are, for what you know, and accept who you could possibly become.”
“You know, you sound like some weird psychic or something.”
“Emma, the Ancients ask us to love, and that love includes loving ourselves: self love.”
“I have to love myself?” I asked, laughing.
“Of course.”
“Isn’t that a tad conceited?”
“It’s all about balance. You can love yourself and still know that you have your flaws as well as your strengths.”
“This is too much,” I breathed out. Mostly, it was too much because, I mean, I wasn't a big fan of myself.
“Just consider the first note. What does it look like?”
“I don’t know—shapes, people?” I said, unable to reallyseeorunderstandexactly what I was actually seeing.
“Okay, do you recognize these people?”
I played the note again in my head, calling it forward. Suddenly, the note seemed to burst out in front of me, and I saw a baby in a cradle. I saw my mother and my father, looking over her—or well,me, but it wasn't as if I was experiencing it, myself, first hand; it was as if I was watching it happen to someone, like in a movie, but I knew itwasme. I saw my mom and dadsmile, and I saw the bottle in my mother’s hand. I watched them as they cared for me—me depending on them, having feelings of needing them, having no other choice but to depend on them to feed me.
“I see myself as a baby. My mother and father are caring for me.”
“Dependence,” he smiled. “You depended on them for every basic need. They had to change your diapers, feed you, and care for you. One of the first things we learn is to depend on others—although that lesson doesn't always stay with us.” He paused. “I sometimes forget that your melody is still in a sort of infancy because it was shielded from you for most of your life.”
