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Chapter 3

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Izdahl was visiting his mother in his parents’ living room. He’d freely admit his bias, but for Izdahl, Hadil was the most serene individual he knew. She relaxed on her favorite chaise with sunlight gracing her dark-brown skin. She’d done her waist-length hair into an elaborate bun. Her silver braids were adorned with colorful ornaments family members had gifted her.

He pulled up a chair by his mother and joined her in viewing the birds playing in the garden’s water fountain. When Hadil was ready, she faced Izdahl and gently grasped both of his hands.

“Some of the colors in your aura are muted.” Hadil held his gaze. “And the light from your soul has changed. It's dimming. We need to understand what’s happening.”

As a highly respected Nitelvosa Healer, Hadil wielded her vast spellcasting skills for the benefit of others. Overtime, she’d gained significant influence among the Nitelvosa Families and with humans. In particular, she was only one of four individuals able to see souls. Along with having that ability, she could reach out and touch souls, determining the best ways to heal a person. Izdahl knew, given Hadil’s level of expertise, she was deeply troubled by what she saw. There was no room for him to pretend he was doing better than he actually was.

“I feel like I’m changing, but I’m not sure how,” Izdahl said. “The roots of my wings hurt. It’s a constant pain and I think it’s getting worse.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Did you think no one would find out about your pain? Not even your mother?” Hadil clicked her tongue. “What if Armando senses you’re hurting, but he hasn’t said anything?”

Izdahl looked down at the wooden floor. “I didn’t consider that. I try not to worry him. He’s already been through a lot with losing his parents. Seeing me die must have reawakened some of his trauma, even if he did bring me back. I’ve watched the footage from that horrible fight so much, it’s burned into my brain. All I can think of is how destroyed Armando looked.”

Hadil put a hand under Izdahl’s chin, tipping it up. “You had a horrible experience. Something’s lingering and affecting you. We must figure it out.” She released a long breath. “We’ve had you checked medically, but that’s clearly not enough.”

“What do you think might be happening?”

“I wonder if it’s a complicated spell.” Hadil tilted her head as she mused. “The stake sent through your heart was enchanted. It destroyed itself, but it might have had a spell attached to it. I’ve had cases like that with a spell entering a person’s body and camouflaging itself. I must be missing something.” Hadil rose and began to pace. After a minute, she looked at Izdahl, with her brow furrowed. “I think we should go to a sanctuary in the Kasykelan Realm.”

Going to such a sanctuary allowed for time to operate differently. An hour in the real world meant a day in that special space. The space had been created by small telepathic creatures, called Kasykelas, who thrived on the energy human and Nitelvosa souls emanated. Over the course of ten millennia, the population of the Kasykelas had boomed, rising into the billions.

“Mother, you know how I feel about that place,” Izdahl said.

When he was five, Izdahl’s mother had taken him to the Kasykelan Realm for the first time. The Kasykelas had been so excited to see him. Hadil had explained it was because he had such stunning spiritual energy, even at a young age. He’d been overwhelmed by the creatures’ telepathy. He’d sat on the stone floor of one of the Ziyad sanctuaries and cried. Some of the younger creatures had copied him, magnifying the sound and further scaring him. Hadil had scooped him up and returned him to the regular Nitelvosa plane. He’d seldom returned to the Kasykelan Realm and his concerns about that space hadn’t changed much over the years.

“Izdahl, I know it scares you, but we need answers. Your spiritual energy is much more stable now, than when you were a child. Being in the Kasykelan Realm won’t feel the same. We’ll only be there for healing purposes.”

Izdahl sighed and nodded. “When do you want to go?”

“Within the next few days. We’ll need two others to anchor us. Sunja and Metienne would be good matches.”

Izdahl let out of sigh, becoming lost in thought. He traced the contours of the gift Armando had designed for him. He’d given Armando a baltium cuff that had the Amasi Family’s seal on it, with the inside engraved with his name and Armando’s. It was a symbol of Izdahl’s love and desire to protect Armando. In return, Armando had designed a similar cuff. On the inside were three feathers representing their past, present, and future. Izdahl repeatedly ran a finger over the feather representing the future.

His mother tapped him on his arm, bringing him out of his musings. “You were born almost two months premature. I was so worried about you. And we knew you’d wield fire because...”

Izdahl laughed. “Because I burst into flames in the midwife’s arms.”

“To her credit, Shion managed to hold on to you, despite that heated surprise.” Hadil smiled. “Your father and I knew you’d be a challenge. So there have been times where I’ve been overprotective. I did let go, through the years. I wanted you to be more confident about making choices.”

“That was the right thing to do, Mama.”

Hadil laughed. “Here you go. You usually call me, Mother. But when you’re about to pull on my heartstrings, you say ‘Mama’.”

Izdahl chuckled. “Mama, please don’t hold back on helping me. If someone tries to hurt Armando again, I need to be able to protect him. I can’t do that, if I’m not at my healthiest.”

Hadil nodded. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Thank you. If Armando’s at risk and I can’t shield him, then I’ll never forgive myself.”

***​

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Armando smiled, as he felt the tension begin to leave Izdahl’s shoulders. They were on their bed, with Armando giving him a massage. The beautiful, two-inch, raised silver wing crescents on Izdahl’s shoulder blades glimmered against his medium-brown skin. Between his shoulders were the tattoos of a flame and the year he’d won his first Fire Dueling Tournament.

“I don’t know what it is about your hands,” Izdahl said. “They’re just so soothing.”

“Good. Your wings have really been bothering you. So, I’ll do anything I can to help.”

The air was filled with the pleasant scent of the healing oil Hadil had given them. Armando gently applied them to Izdahl’s back, focusing on the wing crescent markings on his shoulder blades.

“While we do this, why don’t you tell me about the other Velzos?” Armando asked.

“Oh right,” Izdahl said. “I’d forgotten we were halfway through that. So, there’s Qyana Shabota. She leads a family that’s neutral to the Amasis and closest with the Marnels.”

“That’s Vadem’s mother, right?” Armando asked, referring to one of their friends.

Izdahl nodded, acknowledging Armando was correct. “And last, as well as my least favorite, is Velzo Balvan Terada. The Teradas have never been allies to the Amasis or Ziyads. The Terada Family used to be incredibly powerful, but they lost significant territory to Amasis and Ziyads. Amasis took land through better negotiations. Ziyads took it through war. I happen to be from two families the Teradas hate.”

“You sound like you’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe.” Izdahl sighed with contentment and sat up. He turned to face Armando. “That’s the basic rundown on the Velzos.”

“Thank you for telling me all of that.” Armando looked at him intently. “I know I asked you to fill me in on them, but I can’t help feeling you’re using this now to avoid something.”

Izdahl didn’t respond and Armando poked him in his side.

“If you’re trying to dodge this conversation, it won’t work,” Armando said. “Answer me.”

“What exactly do you want to know?”

Armando cleared his throat pointedly. “How are you feeling? Are your wings bothering you again?”

Izdahl had mentioned that the base of his wings hurt. The colors of some of his feathers had begun shifted randomly, going from black, to blue, and then to silver.

“Yes, but there are other things too,” he said. “I don’t think I know all the ways I’ve changed. I feel like there are layers of changes and others are yet to come.”

“Would you be all right telling me more, Iz? This is the most you’ve said about it, in a while.”

“Honestly, I’m scared. All of this fear, for myself and you, is wrapped in confusion and anger. I don’t know how to get it out. The fury is just there.” He put a hand against his chest. “It feels heavy in my heart, just sitting and weighing it down.”

Guilt lit in Armando’s chest over Izdahl’s confusion. Armando still wasn’t sure if he was imagining what he saw with Izdahl’s soul. Armando had gained the ability to see souls almost a year earlier. Overtime, he’d marveled at and memorized every stunning shimmer of light that made up Izdahl’s soul. It had been easy to tell what had changed, after he’d resurrected Izdahl. There was now a protective barrier around Izdahl’s soul. Armando wondered if that was affecting Izdahl’s heart and his overall health.

Armando had learned from Hadil that there were only four beings, including himself, who could see souls. With Hadil being one of those, Armando had figured she would have mentioned seeing the barrier. Since she hadn’t, he was unclear about the circumstances. 

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” Armando said.

Izdahl tilted his head, looking concerned. “Why would you say that?”

“Sometimes, when you asleep I put a hand on your chest. I always hope that your soul’s protected.”

“As kind as that is, why are you even awake to do that?”

Armando rubbed his forehead. “I just wake up worrying. I think about how I returned your soul to your body. The way I felt when you died. How I felt when you were alive again.”

“So checking on me while you sleep makes it easier to deal with those worries?”

“Yes...It looks like I made a barrier appear around your soul.”

Izdahl placed a hand on his chest. “My mother hasn’t said anything about it. She’d be able to see it.”

“Maybe she can’t. We should talk to her.”

“Right. We’ll remember to do that.”

Izdahl slid off the bed to stand and stretch. Armando watched him, admiring his muscular figure.

“I think what I need now is a flight,” Izdahl said.

“I wish I could go with you.” Armando heard the wistfulness in his voice and laughed self-consciously. “Flying must do so much to clear your mind.”

Izdahl sat next to him again. “You have your ways too. You like wandering through the city and visiting your favorite buildings.”

“You noticed that about me?”

“Of course. I know when something’s heavy on your mind, but you’re still deciding what to say. Maybe you should just get it out.” Izdahl bit on his bottom lip. “I’m just sorry I didn’t say anything about my health much earlier.”

Armando tapped him on his knee. “If you really feel sorry for holding back the truth, you have to make it up to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know you made me worry about you. So you have to balance things.” Armando looked off into the distance, as if he were taking something into serious consideration. “You have to take me flying.”

Izdahl chuckled. “I can arrange a trip in one of Amasi Inc.’s nicest shuttles.”

“No. I mean using your wings.”

All of Izdahl’s humor faded. “I told you there’s something wrong with my wings. I don’t know if—”

“Then get better, so you can take me flying. Even before this issue, why didn’t you ever take me? Have you been worried you’d dropped me?”

“No. Taking you never crossed my mind. The danger is—”

“I remember your tournament performance,” Armando said, his voice filled with envy. “I was so jealous about what you did with Koraiy.”

As part of the opening ceremony for last year’s Elite Fire Dueling, Izdahl had needed to create a crowd-pleasing performance. He’d done so by transferring some of his ability to Koraiy, giving his steed wings and flying on him over the crowd. It had been an impressive show, as no one else had displayed that talent since the warring period between the families, almost a thousand years ago.

Izdahl chuckled and shrugged. “Well, I can’t transfer wings to you. It’s not safe and—more importantly—it’s forbidden for Nitelvosa to do that to humans.”

“You don’t have to give me wings. My point is about flying.” Armando studied him, before casually adding, “Ryoma went to visit Nymel’s family this weekend.”

Armando smiled as he spoke of Ryoma’s excitement while he’d explained the experience. Ryoma, an associate at Armando’s architectural firm, had even taken a video of his flight with his partner. The two of them had stopped periodically to tour different territories and enjoy leisurely meals. Armando hoped to do the same with Izdahl.

“Okay.” Izdahl’s brow furrowed. “Well that’s good for Ryoma and Nymel, but weren’t we just talking about—”

“Do you know how they traveled? She flew him through three territories using a harness. I want to do something like that.”

Izdahl’s lips twitched with amusement. “Is that so? I’m sure if you ask Nymel, she’d do the same for you. She’s very nice.”

“You know what I mean.”

Izdahl laughed. “I do. Let me consider the logistics.”

“When are we going to do it?”

“I haven’t even had a chance to research the gear or pick a day or...” Izdahl sighed in light exasperation. “All right, ‘Mando. I know that look. Tell me what you’ve found.”

Armando grinned, as he grabbed his mobile and pulled up the information he’d gathered. “Here’s a list of places selling flying gear. A few will give lessons.”

Izdahl took Armando’s mobile and read what Armando had researched. He clicked on a few images, which projected as holograms. He looked at them, stroking his jaw as he imagined which harnesses could work for them. He glanced back at Armando, whose eyes were keen with interest. “You’re serious about this.”

Armando nodded firmly. “How about we look this weekend?”

“I can’t do it that soon. I have a meeting with Father to review ship prototypes. I know I don’t usually work weekends, but Father’s going on an interstellar trip soon. This weekend is best for us to meet.”

“It’s okay.”

“I promise I’ll carve out some time.”

“That’s all I need to hear.” Armando took the mobile from Izdahl and put it aside. He opened his arms to Izdahl. “Come here.”