Page 313 of Awakened

My skin prickles, every hair on my body standing on end as the rhythm intensifies, reaching a crescendo until⁠—

It stops.

The air becomes still and heavy, the scent of ozone so strong I can almost taste it. It’s like a blanket’s been thrown over the world.

A voice echoes through the darkness, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. The air grows warmer, making goosebumps prickle along my bare legs. It starts as a vibration and moves through the Earth and into my bones. It creeps along my limbs, up my neck and into my head. There, it brushes against the inside of my skull before spilling into my bloodstream.

The vibrations are words. The words are a language. One I shouldn’t know, but do. I know it. I know it as well as I know my name. As well as I know my mother's face. It’s part of me—part of my soul.

A wave of homesickness sweeps over me. I fight back the whimper crawling up my throat and the tears of longing that cling to my lashes.

I have never yearned for something as much as I yearn for—for⁠—

What? What is it?

The whimper I’ve been trying to hold back escapes. “What’s happening?”

“Osha’riol un viadryn. Shai elienar kai’lyn, shai drai kai’lox.”

The words vibrate inside my skull. They imprint into my soul, making me shudder and struggle to breathe. Spinning frantically, I search for the origin of the voice, eager to find them.

I don’t recognize it, but my soul does. Feminine, ancient, and wise. Threaded with mirth and dark amusement. It’s the voice of someone who’s watched civilizations rise and fall many times over and would never apologize for surviving them all.

“Who’s there? Who are you?”

“I am what your mother dreamed and what your blood remembers, Daughter of gods.”

The glow around me sharpens, bleeding into a bluish silver that’s so bright it threatens to blind me. I throw my arm up to shield my eyes, still searching for any hint of where it’s coming from.

“Do you have a name?”

“I, too, am a last Daughter,” she muses, as though she remembers only because she was asked. “Born of Vharon and Nyraxis. The last fire and last breath. They named me Vharax, so I may live on when their bones have long turned to dust. I am all that remains of those two great lines.”

Every cell inside me lights up with recognition, and I sway, barely keeping my feet under me.

Recognition of what, though? I don’t know anyone named Vharax. What in the Fates is happening?

“Shai elienar kai’vyn, shai drai kai’lox,” she laughs. “You know who you are, just as you know who I am.”

I dig my fingers into my temples, shaking my head in confusion. “How can I understand you?”

Vharax hums, and the sound is threaded with confusion. “How can you not? You are the Daughter of the last true light. You are mine as I am yours. Our souls have been bound for eternity.”

The light dims, and I blink as blinding afterimages flash in my vision. My gaze lands on the pillar of ice, formidable in this dream world just as it is in reality. It glows with the same silver-blue light as the rest of the cavern. The pieces snap together, and I know with sudden certainty who Vharax is.

At least… I know where she is.

“You’re trapped,” I breathe, and dread fills my chest, pressing against my lungs like a thousand pounds of stone. I sprint to the pillar, not stopping until I’m pressing my palms against the cool surface. Biting down on my bottom lip, I smooth my hands across the sooty surface as the tears I’ve been holding back finally fall and slide down my cheeks.

I have to get her out of there. I can’t leave her in this prison. Not for a single moment longer.

“I’m sleeping,” Vharax informs me gently. “My soul knows yours, even if we will soon meet for the first time. Once that occurs, we will not speak as we do now. I will not remember this conversation. I am still very, very young.”

“What does that mean?” I ask in frustration. “How can we communicate if we can’t speak to each other?”

“You will know how, Daughter of Light. You understand our language now, do you not?”

My eyes widen as I realize she’s right. We’ve been speaking in that odd foreign tongue this whole time. A language I’ve never heard, but understand as though I’d been born knowing it.