Page 62 of When Eden Falls

“Is this an Akquarian book?” I asked.

“Yes, but don’t you see?”

“See what?”

Cora tapped the illustration again. “Does it not feel as though you’re looking in a mirror?”

Full of bewilderment, I glanced up at her. What was she talking about?

She sighed and said, “Eden, this illustration is of your eye. Perhaps not as organic looking, but the resemblance is remarkable.”

I ran my sceptical gaze over the picture. Yes, okay, it was an image of a multi-sided yellow star surrounded by browns, greens, and blues, but… “I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

Huffing her exasperation, she hopped up, sitting on the stone ledge next to the book. “When I first met you,” she said, “you know the time you conducted my induction in Torlan City. Theday before we left for Juno?” I nodded. “Well, I was fascinated by your eyes. So much so, I had to look into the genetics behind it.”

A little concerned with where this was going, I said, “I thought you’re an astrogeologist, not a geneticist.”

“I like natural beauty. And your eyes definitely fall into that category. Anyway, I discovered it has occurred before. They call it a starburst iris, and only two other Allurans have ever had it. Both of whom were two of the original Nux warriors. At first, I thought you could be a direct descendant of them, but then I read something about neither of them being remotely related, and being born two hundred years apart. It seems both led our people to lifechanging liberations. They both were strong leaders, destined to prevail. And it is said that anyone who follows with the same eyes is destined for greatness.”

I already knew this. The Nux priestess, who counselled me following my brother’s funeral, had told me, trying to convince me that Jacob’s death was a necessity to pave the direction of my greatness, and how I should embrace the fact he was sacrificed so I could succeed in my destiny.

I wasn’t sure if it was because of guilt, shame, or anger, but I had never stepped foot inside a Nux temple since, not even when my mum died.

“It’s nonsense, Cora,” I forced my voice to sound uninterested, distant, attempting to disguise the pain of the memory pushing forward.

“That’s what I thought,” she replied. “Until I saw this.” She patted the page, prompting my eyes to look at it again. “There must be something the Akquarians believe in, something similar.”

I was starting to lose my patience. “That’s a drawing of a star. It could symbolise anything.”

“But what if there’s truth in the connection? The ancient myth was true, why not this?” She mused to herself before saying, “You could be special, Eden. You could have a destiny that is…”

“The weirdness of my eyes is nothing but a genetic anomaly. It can’t determine my fate nor my destiny, in the same way the colour of my skin can’t.”

“Yes, but…”

“We make our own destiny.”

“I know, but…”

“It’s complete nonsense!”

Cora fell silent, clearly stunned by my harsh, irritated tone. I gazed down at the book I was reading, the words blurring into a fuzzy grey as my mind ticked over with frightened intrigue and despair. My stupid eyes and the supposed destiny surrounding them was nothing more than a far-fetched, religious superstition; one most Allurans had no knowledge of. But seeing the image in that book, and Cora pouring her thoughts and conclusions at me; it left me feeling scared. What if this was an Akquarian belief as well? Was that why Havav was so interested in me? But what could I do for the Akquarians, what destiny could I provide for them?

“Eden, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” I peered up at Cora’s young, concerned face. “I’m sorry, I…I’m feeling the pressure of everything right now.”

Cora squeezed my hand, providing me with a gentle, affectionate smile. “We will laugh about all of this when we’re back on The Orka.”

I hoped she was right.

C h a p t e rE i g h t e e n

The following day, Havav’s audience requests resumed. Zamya groaned profusely when it was announced she would be the first to be received. I was summoned the day after.

I walked down the spiral staircase and along the echoing corridors a step behind Yuska. We’d been in the fortress over four weeks now. I’d gotten used to the separation from Rooke, Kobe, and Oz. Even the flowing, elegant, sometimes revealing garments had grown on me, but my poor bare feet still ached against the harsh stone floors. I longed for warm socks and comfortable boots. I longed for woollen jumpers and brandy chasers, drinking them whilst sitting next to a glowing fire. Nux, I longed for home and its cooler climate. Would I ever see Allura again?

At the end of the wide, familiar corridor, adorned with ornate walls and glassless windows, two fortress guards opened the double doors. Yuska led me over the threshold, then pointed me in the direction of another familiar door. I let myself through and closed it gently behind me.