Page 128 of The Starlight Savior

“You’re so social though. How can…” Saige’s thoughts trailed off as they continued walking.

“I told you. I adapt. Whatever situations are presented to me, I mold myself to fit the safest one. Even if that means gallivanting in warlocks’ arms or retreating to the shadows. I will never allow myself to feel unsafe again.”

Niana walked ahead, ending the conversation. Her white hair trailed behind her. “Come on. You have magic to practice.”

They continued through the forest, their silence welcoming. Saige’s confession rattled something inside of her. She wished she could speak such words aloud to Conor, explain why her walls immediately jutted up the moment she felt herself trusting someone. It was difficult to let go of the role of destruction and death. For years, she was the cause. That wouldn’t go away overnight. Yet something was shifting. It was easier to breathe as she thought of her loss. Something deep rooted felt shaken up.

Rocks protruded from the edge of the mountain, veins of moss trailing along the wall. Looking up, she couldn’t see the peaks that greeted her quarter windows. A babbling brook glimmered in the light of their magic. Only a foot deep, it was barely enough for Saige to practice with.

Kneeling before the water, she conjured the light and dunked her hands. The water was cold against her skin, sending shivers up her arms. At first, the light fell away and disappeared in the narrow and shallow creek. Saige tried to imagine it going through the water, traveling up and down the stream, latching onto the currents. But it never stuck.

Leaning over, Niana exhaled. “Have you ever seen someone needle clothes?”

“My mother,” Saige said, nodding, “she was a seamstress in Oswan. I used to watch her. Sometimes I’d return clothes throughout the village.”

“So you’ve seen the way the needle works through the fabric? It weaves in and out, sometimes incorporating other pieces of material. Imagine your light is one and water is another. How would you weave the two?”

Saige pushed her hands back in the water, following Niana’s specific instructions. She imagined each tendril of her light as a thread, intertwining with the very fabric of the water, bleeding into the creek and sitting on it like oil.

“Good.” Niana clapped her hands. In the water, light shimmered throughout.

“Maybe you should steal Tobin’s job. You seem to know how to translate magic well!” Saige’s breath was heavy, heart pounding from all the focus on not just summoning the light, but forging it into something thicker.

“I would never want to do such a thing. Trying to teach ten-year-olds magic is my personal ticket to the Otherworld.”

Saige laughed. The magic returned back into her palms, climbing up her veins and settling into her chest like a warm hug. In the creek, light danced along the tide before dissipating too.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

Niana’s brows rose. “For?”

“For…” Saige paused. How could one thank a companion for simply existing by her side? For sharing such thoughts that unlodged something deep in her core. Loosen a belief that had existed for so long. “Your kindness.”

“My kindness! Ha! I haven’t heard that one before. Living with my sister and all those boys, I’ve found that kindness is not something often admired.”

“Well I admire it.” She trailed her hands along the wall. Water trickled down the side of the mountain, the moss soft and moist. A finger dipped under a small cavern. Cracks swelled on the rock—

“Ow!” Saige yelped, jumping back. Her hand was cradled to her chest, fingers aching.

Pulling her arm away from her chest, she inspected her skin. Something had bitten her. It was sizzling red, smoke rising from a bubbling wound. “W-What the fuck.”

“Huh?”

“S-Something…” She held out her hand, unsure of how to explain what happened. She had simply dragged her hand against the mountain and it…

Niana took Saige’s hand lightly, turning it over in inspection. “Strange.” Leaning towards where her hand had trailed the mossy rock wall, Niana suddenly jumped back with a yelp.

“What?” Saige scrambled to see where Niana had placed her hand.

Before her there were cracks in the mountain, jagged along the walls. Something was seeping through it, like steam rising from a cup of tea. When she trailed her fingers over it, it burned her skin.

“Niana,” Saige said slowly. “What if…”

“It can’t be,” Niana said quietly. “I thought we had more time.”

So did the whole kingdom.

The council meetings claimed the mist would take time to travel over the mountain ridges that lined Athalos. But had they never accounted for the mist traveling through it? There were always crevices and caves inhabiting the peaks. Saige’s heart pounded as she looked down at her hand. Where the mist had made contact, red blisters and pus were beginning to form, so similar to Sybil and the soldier.