Page 105 of The Starlight Savior

“I suppose he wouldn’t have. It would’ve raised too many questions. And it isn’t a lie either. By the time Oscar was…killed, they’d already passed on to the Otherworld. Our parents were two sides of the same coin, which often came with difficulties raising children. Father wanted Oscar to be the strongest warrior of the land, to bring glory to the Nerestel family. By the time Oscar was building his magic, he was stronger than our father. But our mother saw a softer side in him. An intuitive, knowledgeable warlock. She wanted him to be a scholar. A maester. A priest. To use his magic and passion for something other than destruction and death.

“So he did both. In the morning, he trained with the other warlocks. Practiced his magic with Tobin. But in the evening, he sat by candlelight and studied every book and scripture he could possibly find. There was no desire to dedicate his life wholeheartedly to either cause, instead intertwining the two. He was the smartest, strongest man in the kingdom. Maybe even in all of Opela.”

Saige’s heart swelled at the thought of her father. “He was a blacksmith in Brevil,” Saige said. “I didn’t know this then, but I imagine his upbringing contributed to the work he did back home.” She looked down at her hands. One palm was bandaged where one of the creatures had scratched her deep. Another finger was wrapped where she had sliced it against the mirror. “There are so many memories of my father here. Where does my mother’s existence live?” Everyone she spoke to in Etrane knew of Oscar Nerestel. But her mother, Emery, who remembered her?

“Your mother’s memory lives on in your father’s words. He wrote of her from the moment they met. It was as if I knew her as well.” Eva’s voice was distant.

Saige tried to sit as straight as possible, her gaze forcing Eva to see past the tears. “I’d like to see his letters.” She knew how her aunt felt about it. They were the last piece of her brother, Saige’s father. Untouched.

“You deserve to see them,” Eva admitted. “When you’re healed, I’ll show you. As long as everything goes right.”

Ignoring the pang in her chest, Saige nodded earnestly. She imagined reading them to Conor and Sebastien was different than reading them to Saige. He had been alive then. They were stories and updates of his adventures. Now it was a life that would never be lived or seen again.

But, if Eva wouldn’t share the letters, then Saige felt no inkling to share her dreams. An eye for an eye, she thought.

“So,” Eva breathed, hands running down her face. Most of her fingernails had been bitten to the skin. “Conor swore you were able to revive one of the plants. Is this true?”

“Partially.” She explained the process, the push she felt against her magic. The plant hadn’t fully come back to life, but Conor said it was more than Sybil was ever able to accomplish.

Eva was silent beside her bed, her gaze drifting off to a different place. “And your magic…” she said slowly, “it calls to nothing specific?”

Saige shook her head, the thought of Sydera’s magic lingering in her mind.

“How peculiar. I’ve never heard of that happening.”

“Is that a side effect of Sydera’s magic?”

“Possibly,” Eva said, her voice sounding distant, “very few people have experience with that. Only ones I’ve heard of are Tobin and Priestess Domina. Tobin can sense magic types; though, he can’t decipher yours…”

Her aunt’s words faded into the background as Saige’s mind whirled forward. Athalos’s priestess had been waiting for her at the temple. Saige had wanted to come more prepared, but would she ever be? Day after day, she felt more confident and more lost all at the same time.

I’ve longed to speak to someone like you.

All this time, Saige wanted to control and understand her magic. With her demonstration looming closer, she needed to quicken her training. Conor was gone. Tobin was too traditional. She wondered if Priestess Domina had the answers she was looking for.

Chapter 40

Statues of the storm deity greeted Saige as she walked up white marble steps, dark purple veins spreading through the polished stone. The doors were wide open. Priestess Domina stood in the middle, blessing one of the citizens with a sweep of her finger. Her long silver hair was bound like a crown atop her head. A large portrait of Tonirus towered over her.

Sliding into one of the pews, Saige lowered her head. The temple was adorned with statues and paintings of the deities. Bundles of herbs, pastries, and bottles of wine sat at their feet. Where the Mother Goddess Sydera stood, stars carved around her, the offerings were meager.

Sneaking out of the castle hadn’t been easy. At first, she didn’t know how she’d be able to find Tonirus’s temple. Kira had proven herself useful, slipping her a map of Athalos’s capital without questioning such a request. Leaving her quarters with her head down, she pretended to venture to training. Since Tiranos’s infiltration, King Vospella’s guards lined every exit. Patience became Saige’s companion as she hid behind pillars, waiting for the line of handmaids to exit the castle. Once the swelling crowd left the servant quarters, she weaved herself into them. If one of them noticed her mess of dark curls or infamous cloak, they said nothing. The guards didn’t falter as they opened the gates.

Tobin was probably waiting for her in the meadow or training hall, expecting her studies to resume. But continuing her traditional training wouldn’t be helpful. Her destiny rested in her own palms now.

“You’ve come,” Priestess Domina said as the temple emptied.

“Of course,” Saige declared, hiding her shaking hands.

A single brow rose in the priestess’s amused face. “I may not be able to answer all your questions.”

“I haven’t even asked anything.”

Yet.

“They are written across your face like ink in a book.” She beckoned Saige over with a wave. “Come, join me for some tea. I’m sure the walk in that cloak was grueling.”

“Thank you, Priestess.” Saige bowed her head.