***
Kiethara stood in the middle of the blackness, very confused. She did not remember falling asleep, but this felt exactly like a dream.
There was a sudden light and she was reminded of Aaron. A figure appeared, lean and graceful, with the curves of a woman. This was not Aaron; the figure was much lighter, so much so that it was hard to define. The déjà vu was so strong that she had to take a step back.
How could she forget what her mother had once spoken to her? She—they—had been here before, and Earthaphoria had told her not to give up. Even before the problem had arisen, she had already had the answer. She felt like a fool!
Kiethara, her mother said sternly. I don’t have enough magic to talk for much longer—
“What does that mean?” Kiethara interrupted frantically, her eyes wide with wonder.
Aaron will explain the connection between death and magic soon enough, she explained impatiently. You can’t give up, sweetheart, you can’t. There are far more kingdoms than you know of, far more people, and all of them use magic. They use our power. The world is balanced in the most precious of ways and the smallest thing can knock it off its perch. Do not upset that balance.
Failing is not losing, Kiethara. It is not even dying. It is destroying.
Do not give up, she repeated. I love you.
“Mother, wait!” she cried, but the Spirit of Earthaphoria had already disappeared.
Kiethara opened her eyes.
Aaron was kneeling next to her, with a hand over her forehead. As soon as she blinked, though, he removed it.
Kiethara propped herself up on her elbows, confused. She was lying on top of her mother’s grave. With a jolt, she scrambled off of it.
“Kiethara?” Aaron asked worriedly.
She looked at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her thoughts were frozen, unable to work through the situation. It was still stuck on her dream—conversation—and it replayed the scene over and over again.
“Kiethara,” he said, standing up. “Calm down. I saw what you saw; I heard what you heard. It’s alright, and it’s all true.”
“Connection,” she whispered. “Between life and death.”
“Yes,” he said reluctantly.
“Explain!”
“I don’t know if you are ready for this information yet. Although you’ve encountered it far more than any other guardian has, this knowledge might be a little too mature for you.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded. “More than anybody else?”
“Your mother, for one. Myself, for another. Also, I believe you hear a voice when you are unconscious.”
Kiethara stared at Aaron. “How do you know about that?”
“That is not important.”
Kiethara slumped against a grave stone. So the voice in her head was real? What a shame—she wasn’t crazy after all. “Does that mean the voice I hear is…dead?”
“Yes,” he confirmed in a somber tone. “She died very young, at the age of thirteen. Poor girl. Tinya was her name.”
She was silent for a long while. The voice was really a…Tinya?
“How did she…?” Kiethara couldn’t even finish the question. The voice had always annoyed her, yes, but it had also been a voice of reason in her dreams. She felt like they were comrades facing the same problems together. She felt such a strong connection of the voice…as though she were her sister. But was this disembodied voice a ghost, then?
“Would you like to hear her legend?” Aaron asked quietly. She nodded.
“Tinya was a humorous and sarcastic girl, taking after her father. Her mother was the guardian at the time, a very strict and a very cautious person. It’s a mystery why they fell in love, what with one being so careful and the other being so carefree. But they bore Tinya, this beautiful and sarcastic child, and raised her as a guardian. Despite her jesting, she had quickly gained her mother’s sense of right and wrong.
“Tinya’s mother was a good mentor and Tinya learned fast. She was a very eager learner. She thirsted to prove herself to her mother, no matter what it meant doing or accomplishing.
“There are many secrets to the guardian’s life—one of them you will learn very soon. As with any secret, however, there are consequences for learning it before your time,” Aaron paused, letting his warning sink in.
“Tinya learned this secret at the age of thirteen, far too young. It makes a guardian into the complete, powerful being that they are, allowing them…certain new skills. She discovered it and, by accident, took in too much magic. It overwhelmed her, and she died.”
Kiethara and Aaron stood facing each other for a long time, no one daring to break the silence. She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath.
“But that doesn’t explain why I hear her voice,” she whispered finally.
“That’s what you don’t need to know at this moment, Kiethara.”
That frustrated her, but not enough to make her argue. She felt strangely disconnected to the words they were exchanging. The realization that the voice was real—and dead—took dominance over everything.
“Is she buried here?”
“Yes,” Aaron said. He pointed to her left.
Kiethara propelled herself over towards the tombstone, holding her breath. She had never paid any attention to the rest of the graveyard—only her mother’s spot. With bated breath she approached the stone.
TINYA
LIVED FOR 13 YEARS
“WHAT YOU GET IS WHAT YOU WISH FOR, AND YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR IT ALL.”
A light blue crystal was embedded above her name.
“So she died…from having too much magic?” she asked slowly.
“Yes.”
“How is that possible?!”
Aaron sighed loudly. “Kiethara, you really are so close to obtaining this knowledge, but I cannot tell you now. Give it some time and it will be clear.”
“Your cryptic little remarks are getting on my nerves!” she cried, snapping her teeth together.
“Accept my apology, please, and let us return to the surface so I can explain to you your newly discovered ability. Other then that, there is nothing I can do for you.”
Kiethara stomped off away from Aaron. She caught a glimpse of the giant stone that resided in front of the graves and, for some reason, she was captivated by it for a moment. She felt like she was expecting something from it. Or that it was expecting something from her.
Shaking her head, convinced she was finally crazy, Kiethara swam back to the surface and clambered onto dry ground, completely dry herself. She hovered an inch above the ground in order to keep her feet out of the snow.
Her sword hung from a tree across from her. It seemed undamaged. Kiethara went over to it and hung her vine belt next to it grudgingly. She hated training with Aaron when she was mad at him.
“Now, why did your powers do that, Miss Kiethara?” Aaron asked in a deep, formal tone, trying to make her laugh. She smiled once at the tree before turning back to him.
“I was sad,” she stated simply.
“Oh? Why?”
“Because of Sinsenta,” she replied impatiently.
“And your sorrow led to…?”
Kiethara frowned. Sorrow, he had told her, led to controlling water. “It had led to ice, but I don’t know why.”
“Very good, very good. Sorrow controls water, and usually that means water in its liquid state. The more grief you are feeling, the better you can use the element. The more controlled you are with your sorrow, the better you can wield it. Ice, however, is very, very hard to control. You must be sorrowful and you must be cold. Not unhappy and angry, or mournful and fearful.”
“I have to be the right kind of sad?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yes, Kiethara. You might comprehend that your powers are controlled by your emotions, but you cannot fathom how utterly ruled you are by these emotions. Sometimes, even the smallest rash feeling or twinge of annoyance can lead to a catastrophe. But you should know b
y now that the more control you own over these things, the less likely that prospect will occur. Of course, it works this way because of me, I’m afraid.”
“I thank you deeply for that, Aaron,” she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms.
“Kiethara…”
“Sorry, Aaron.”
“Now, you know what to do. Try to lift a tiny sphere of water and then freeze it.”
Kiethara let out a loud breath and glided over to the edge of the lake. She didn’t particularly want to focus on her most recent experience with Sinsenta and her mother, but those were the best she had.
Sad, but cold. Kiethara tried to focus on that. She brought forth Sinsenta’s harsh words, trying to get some edge to the ache in her stomach. Every time she thought she had it, it slipped away.
Finally, a small sphere of water rose an inch above the water. Holding on to it, she let bitterness wash over her as Sinsenta’s voice rang sharply in her head. But it also sparked some anger.
The sphere dropped back into the surface with a splash. She groaned.
“Try again,” he ordered.
Kiethara waited until her frustration faded and then she once again lifted a sphere off of the surface. Her eyes closed and this time she tried a new approach, though it was one just as equally unpleasant. Trinnia’s face loomed before her. She was mixing many different situations to get the feeling Aaron was asking for. A small part of her mind doubted that she would ever feel the same way again.
When she opened her eyes, the sphere of water had partly turned into slush, the state snow was reduced to just before spring. Discouraged, she looked down at the snow underneath her. Even it was more frozen than what she had made, and it was a day old! The snow would be gone for good before she could freeze anything again.
“Aaron, this is impossible!” she cried after her fifth try.
“You did it this morning,” he pointed out.
“Was it really this morning?” she mused. It seemed like ages ago.
“I think you need some sleep, Kiethara,” Aaron sighed, putting his head in his hand.
“Couldn’t agree with you more,” she replied. Her muscles were…well, her body was the same way it always felt, and she was tired of feeling that way.
“Kiethara,” he said seriously. “I want to thank you for what you did today. Actually, I need to thank you for everything you have done for the forest. You have been through so much in order to defend it. Thank you.”
Kiethara stared at him blankly. Never had she ever expected to receive any positive reception. She had never felt so…
Appreciated.