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Continent of Panaerth
20th Day of Month 6, Year 1628 DG
Terror plagues her again. The horrific visions bring discomfort, cold sweats, and tightness in the chest. Two small girls hiding, a green-skinned Mega with one arm, barking wolves, and burning flesh.
The cool, calculated voice of the Facilitator. “I need them alive.”
Salessa shoots up from the cot, heart thrumming painfully, tears painting her cheeks. She takes a few deep breaths and wipes them quickly. Naina, Gina, and Symin remain undisturbed in their cots, but Zakia’s is empty.
A flickering light illuminates the clearing. The bonfire lives, and just over the tops of the licking flames, Salessa makes out the pixie’s face. The chaitender cannot blink; her eyes are afraid of losing even a momentary glance.
The embers of the bonfire flow up and down rhythmically from the logs and weeds on which they thrive. Zakia’s royal purple skin gleams and coruscates, shining in the light, then deepening in the shadows, back and forth, on and off.
Salessa can either attempt to sleep again, potentially inviting another visit from the green pixie, or she can spend time with the purple one.
Green or purple? Nightmare or dream? Past or future?
She can still see Zakia’s face shimmering over the tops of the flames when she walks around the raging fire, toward the log on which the pixie rests. It isn’t until she’s entirely around the flaming mound that the realization strikes: Zakia may be up in the middle of the night for solitude.
Salessa stands frozen, as if remaining stationary will make her invisible. Inevitably, the pixie notices her, spawning discomfort in Salessa’s chest, until Zakia smiles. Not a soft, polite smile—a wholehearted, toothy smile. The kind of smile Salessa finds on her customers’ faces when she brings their chai to their tables.
Zakia taps the spot beside her on the log. Without any words spoken at all, Salessa no longer feels unwelcome. Heat burns her cheeks as she walks, but she’s unsure if it’s coming from the bonfire or from within.
As they sit beside each other, eyes on the flames, Salessa tries to think of something to say. The longer she thinks, the more silence fills the air.
“Thank you,” Zakia says, abruptly breaking the quiet.
Salessa’s eyes widen. “For what?”
“For coming.”
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I saw you over the flames and—”
She’s cut off by Zakia’s laughter, and the true meaning of the pixie’s words hits her like tumbling timber. Salessa turns to the bonfire and wonders if it would be more painful to die in the flames, or in embarrassment.
“I was thanking you for coming on this journey. For the mission.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that either. Naina and I were intending to leave MoonSide anyway, but we didn’t have a plan until Symin knocked on our door. I suppose we should be thanking you for the direction.”
“Well, I wish the direction we provided you wasn’t so...” She pauses, searching for the right word.
Salessa comes to her aid. “Dangerous? Terrifying? Unpredictable?”
“All of those things,” Zakia agrees. “But I know Symin chose you for a reason. It was his idea to return to Aerthomni for Doruh assistance. He wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t think you were the best option.”
It occurs to Salessa in this moment that she’s never questioned why Symin chose them. Was it because he genuinely believed they could help? Or was it because he was able to leverage the twins’ history with the Facilitator to make them comply?
She shrugs. “Perhaps. We’re certainly familiar with danger, living under the occupation. Skilled at lying low and keeping a distance. It’s the only real way to survive. The only time I leave home is for work and, even then, it’s difficult to feel safe.”
“What do you do for work?” Zakia asks.
“I teach at the village schools and orphanages during the daytime. And then work the evening and night shifts at the local chai house.”
Zakia’s eyebrows soar up her forehead and her smile widens. “You’re a chaitender?”
Salessa nods.
“I love chai!”
“You’ve had chai?”
“Of course! When I was a little girl, there were chai houses in the Doruh districts of Larso. I would go with my mother and”—her smile fades and her volume drops—“brother.”
Salessa recalls what Symin told her about his friend, Zabeza. “I’m sorry. Symin told us about him, and everything following his abduction.”
“I was four when it happened,” Zakia responds, her tone subdued, “so I didn’t have a lot of time with him. That’s why I joined Symin’s team. To honor him. Avenge him. Do anything I can to find some semblance of justice.”
“That was a brave decision at thirteen years old.”
The faintest hint of pink sparks on her purple cheeks. “Thank you, but I don’t think everyone feels that way. At least, not at first. Gina was angry with Symin for allowing me to join.”
“Well, Kruga speaks very highly of you. He called you a prodigy and told us about the safe house you built in Larso.”
The faint pink glows brighter. “That’s embarrassing.”
“You don’t have to be modest. It’s evidence of how powerful your connection to the Radiance is. I’ve seen you use it with an intricate fluidity I haven’t witnessed in any other Mega.”
“We all contribute to the team in different ways,” Zakia echoes Symin’s words.
Salessa laughs. “Symin said the same thing earlier.”
Zakia rolls her eyes. “And I’m sure the humble nymph never even mentioned what he contributes.”
Salessa thinks back, but doesn’t recall any mention of his own contributions. “I didn’t realize it before, but you’re right, he didn’t.”
“He doesn’t admit it, but Symin is the soul of this team. When we start to lose a sense of who we are, and why we’re here, he brings us back. When we need a break or a shoulder, he’s always ready to hoist us up.”
She turns to the fire. “Above all, he reminds us that this cause, this mission, is bigger than us and our lives. He prepares us, so if the day comes when any of us has to give our lives for a hundred or a thousand others, we’re ready to do so.”
Salessa is silent, taken by her resolve and devotion. She’s in awe of the pixie who is willing to sacrifice anything for the good of others.
Zakia continues. “And his connection to the Radiance is quite strong, as well. It may not be as strong as mine, but he’s a Siphon, and I’m not.”
Salessa’s forehead scrunches in confusion. “A Siphon?”
Zakia nods. “He can feed off the Radiant energy of others in close proximity. It’s incredibly complicated, but after decades of practice, Symin’s mastered the art. He can stand behind a Mega and feed, and they’d have no idea.”
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Salessa admits.
Zakia leans in closer. “Enough about us, tell me more about you and Naina, and your life back in MoonSide.”
Salessa’s smile fades and she releases a deep sigh. “There isn’t much beyond the walls, the checkpoints, the shortage of resources, the lack of safety.” She raises her hands and gestures at the towering trees surrounding the clearing. “There isn’t any natural beauty like this.”
“Natural beauty?” Zakia responds with a quirked eyebrow. “These old, hollow trees and crispy, fallen leaves?” She smiles. “I can show you natural beauty.”
Salessa hesitates a moment, but Zakia’s smile puts her at ease. The pixie stands and holds her hand out, and Salessa places her fingers into the warm purple palm. A jolt of elation buzzes from where their hands touch, up Salessas’s arm, and into her chest, as the pixie leads her out of the clearing.
Hands clenched, they travel through the forest with a cloaking circle around them. As they make their way through hordes of trees and over carpets of leaves, they talk more about their experiences and ideas for the future.
With minor differences, Salessa and Zakia hold parallel visions for what’s to come: a world without walls, without violence, without too much distance between them. Salessa basks in the infectious light of the pixie’s aura, feeling hopeful for the future she describes.
They arrive at a tall, thick tree and Zakia releases Salessa’s hand before floating up to a sturdy branch. Salessa remains on the ground, staring up at her, wondering how she’s going to scale the trunk.
I can’t shift and fly up. Naina would kill me.
“What’s wrong?” Zakia calls down from the branch. “Can’t wolves climb trees?”
“I don’t want to tear my clothes,” Salessa responds, hoping the excuse passes.
Zakia holds her hand out toward Salessa and then slowly lifts it, until it is parallel to the ground. Salessa feels her feet leave the dirt, as if a giant hand has grabbed hold of her, and she floats up to the branch where Zakia sits.
“This is natural beauty,” the purple pixie says, pointing out into the distance ahead of them. It takes a moment for Salessa’s eyes to adjust.
The branch on which they sit is high enough to gaze over the treetops. Past the canopy of the forest, Salessa sees the shoreline end and the ocean begin. Moonlight falls onto the water’s surface, creating a blanket of silvery streaks that sparkle and twinkle and bring the ocean to life.
Breaking waves form patterns in the light, passing from one crest onto the next until they reach the shore and dissipate into shimmering specks. A flowing mist covers the sand, enhancing the moon’s glow. The ocean dances with the illumination.
Salessa sits speechless, absorbing an experience so breathtaking for her, and inconceivable for MoonSidians.
“I found this weeks ago,” Zakia says. “I didn’t have anyone to share it with. No one on the team would appreciate it, but something told me you would.”
Salessa’s gaze breaks away from the scene and finds Zakia’s eyes. Her breath fails her, moved by Zakia’s desire to share something so special with her. After everything they’ve told one another, after the ways in which they’ve bared themselves, Salessa feels an undeniable intimacy toward the pixie.
Her gaze travels down from Zakia’s eyes to her soft lips. Staring at them sends a shiver of desire through Salessa’s veins. She feels something tugging her closer, but a name abruptly enters her mind, spoken in Naina’s voice.
Lexona.
The last person Salessa kissed was Lexona, two years prior, only an hour before the twins found her betraying their trust. The memory tears all desire for a physical connection away from Salessa.
But, then again, Zakia isn’t Lexona. There is a warm understanding between them, and if there is anyone with whom she could share her truth, it would be someone with whom she has rapport—someone who has equally shared their truth. Something Lexona never did in the time they were together.
Naina is definitely going to kill me.
“Zakia, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
The pixie raises a curious eyebrow. “Alright.”
Salessa takes a deep breath to steady the growing uneasiness in her stomach. This could very well be the Lexona situation all over again. But as she takes in Zakia’s empathetic eyes, Salessa’s uneasiness dissipates and she knows, somehow, that this will be different.
“This isn’t something Naina and I discuss openly, but I feel comfortable telling you.”
Zakia nods. “I’m listening.”
“It likely may not even mean anything to you. How much do you know about Doruh mythology?”
Zakia’s brows furrow as she tries to make sense of the inquiry. “That’s a broad question, but, as I said before, I’ve spent time in the Doruh districts of Larso. I know of the Twins and a little of their history.”
“And the prophecy?”
“The resurrection prophecy?”
Salessa’s heart races. Her fingers tremble and beads of sweat break onto her forehead. She knows. Naina was right, this isn’t a good idea.
It’s too late. Zakia’s eyes widen as realization trickles into her mind. “Are you saying...”
Salessa swallows hard as the open truth lingers in the air. Slowly, she nods.
“The prophecy is true, Zakia. Two sets of Doruh twins will merge, physically and spiritually, to bring the divine Twins back to life and prevent catastrophe. And those four Doruh, the two set of twins, will be recognized when they shift into four different animals.”
“Which is,” Zakia adds, “otherwise genetically impossible for Doruh twins, correct?”
“Correct,” Salessa confirms.
Zakia’s eyes widen further and Salessa worries her grays might pop out. “You’re not a wolf, are you?”
Slowly, Salessa shakes her head. “I’m a falcon.”
Zakia pauses and looks away, processing and organizing a number of thoughts at once. Salessa waits anxiously until the pixie turns back and speaks one aloud. “And that’s why the Facilitator is hunting you.”
“We don’t know for certain, but yes, we think he’s hunting us because he wants to control whichever Twin we will resurrect. Either that, or he wants access to the abilities the Twins have granted us.”
Zakia leans forward, intrigued. “What abilities?”
“Naina and I have a telepathic connection. We’re also stronger and faster than other Doruh. And we heal far quicker.”
Zakia’s volume drops until it’s barely above a whisper. “You’re a goddess.”
Salessa laughs. “Technically, I’m half of a goddess. Who won’t be resurrected until Naina and I”—she pauses, feeling an unfamiliar discomfort with saying the word aloud—“merge.”
“What does that entail?” Zakia asks with a frown. “Will you cease being Salessa?”
Salessa’s heart flutters seeing the genuine concern painted on Zakia’s expression. “I don’t know anything. How or when it’ll happen, who the other twins are, whether or not they’ve merged yet.”
“Perhaps they’re in hiding, as well,” Zakia suggests.
Salessa shrugs. “It’s possible. This isn’t something Naina and I tell people freely, and I don’t think they would either. And it’s why I avoid shifting. Naina has to, for her employment, so I let people assume I’m a wolf, too.”
“Because if any Doruh found out you shift into different animals, they would know you’re one of the twin pairs who are named in the prophecy.”
Salessa nods. “Exactly. They would know we’re meant to resurrect one of the Twin deities and that likely means the other pair is out there somewhere as well.”
They sit quietly together for a few moments. Zakia continues to stare out at the vast ocean, and Salessa wonders if the revelation will affect the way Zakia sees and treats her.
“I’m still just a chaitender from a small village in MoonSide,” Salessa breaks the silence. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Some things have changed.” Zakia locks her eyes with Salessa’s. “When all of this is over, maybe I can come to your village and you can make a cup of chai for me.”
A warmth ignites in Salessa’s core. “I would love that.”
They break eye contact and sit quietly again, on a branch beneath the forest’s canopy, with the starlight evaporating around them. As they watch the suns rise on a new day.