The Loss

Chapter 16: The Loss

Emid begins to scream. His scream soothes me, bathing me in comfort. I draw more power from Diago, strengthening the spell, because I can, because I must. His pain will become my pain, and my pain has no limits. The pain pushes into my awareness, but I push back and let the pull of magical power overwhelm me.

I will not see her crumpled body. I will not feel the emptiness of Liara.

I allow myself to relish in Emid’s pain, his agony. The screams, they distract me from what I don’t want to see, don’t want to feel.

I see his body, writhing as wave after wave of pain contracts all his muscles, makes his blood sting like acid, makes his bones splinter. I know what will happen if I continue this spell, but I don’t care.

I won’t care.

And then, I see her.

She’s chunky and hiding her face behind her long brown hair.

“Marinelle, this is your sister-friend, Capella. Say hello.”

The matron gently pushes Marinelle’s hair out of her face. I am confronted with a nose that can only be considered small compared to the mouth below it. Her face looks funny.

I laugh.

The matron chides me immediately.

“Now, Capella, we’ve talked about this. It’s not nice to laugh at other people.”

I nod and try to contain my laughter. Marinelle’s hair is covering her face again.

I shake my head, try to clear it of memories. I return my focus to Emid, whose screaming has quieted, his mouth hanging open with voiceless cries.

There’s a certain beauty to this kind of pain. I wonder if I should be enjoying this as much as I am, but the truth is that I would do anything to stop the pain I know is waiting for me.

Yet pain always has a way of returning, and I flinch as another memory surfaces before I can stop it.

“Did you pass the Magic Test?” She looks nervous. That’s not a good sign.

Then she nods, and I feel myself relax. The truth is that I’ve been worried she might not pass, that my sister-friend might actually be a Wizard.

“Was it hard?”

“I can’t tell you about it—you know the rules!”

“Okay, then, how about just a little hint?” I smile my best smile at her and flutter my eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion.

Nelle breaks into giggles and shakes her head.

“I can’t tell you even just a little hint. Besides, they told me to tell you you’re next. You’ll find out soon enough.”

We didn’t know then. We hadn’t even started to question. All we had was each other and what we were taught.

Were we happy then? I can’t remember.

I wish I could ask her now. She’d remember. Nelle never forgot anything.

I feel the magic falter, hear Emid’s choked breath relax.

This won’t end now. This can’t end here. He…

Nelle comes into our bedroom. I look away, out of shame. She crosses the room, sits on her bed, and sighs with exasperation.

“Why would you be so careless with our secret? Why would you leave out the Music-wave where the Matron could find it?”

I can’t speak. I know I deserve this, but this whole thing just feels horribly unfair. Why can’t we listen to music? Why do we have to hide our Music-wave and our wavelets? What is so wrong with listening to music?

Annoyed, I toss out my frustrations.

“Well, why should we hide it? What is so wrong with music?”

Nelle stares at me and begins to repeat what we’ve been told.

“Music makes us feel things that aren’t real. Music encourages us to believe things that aren’t true. Music distracts us from our studies.” Her voice is flat, monotone.

We both know she doesn’t believe what she’s saying.

I look towards the wall, away from Nelle’s annoyed stare.

Six months of kitchen duty. No clean-mobile to help us.

And all I can think is that I’d gladly suffer that and more if we could get our Music-wave back.

I struggle to regain control. The spell must continue; I must see this through. Emid will know my pain, because…

Nelle bounds out of the Magic Test joyously.

“You passed again?”

“Yup! Your turn.”

I nod and walk into the quiet, dark room. The Wizards stare at me, their lips curling with condescension.

I feel like a… like a circus animal. The simile strikes me as funny: I’ve never been to a circus—no one has—and I wonder where this absurd phrase came from.

The Wizards look at me more intently.

“Is something the matter?” The one in charge questions me.

“No, nothing at all.” I regain my composure.

They shrug and motion for me to leave the testing area.

Even the lure of magic isn’t enough now. Even seeing Emid’s body twisted, the tears and mucous staining his face, the blood that’s broken through his skin—it’s not enough.

None of this is enough.

I can’t do this anymore. I feel the snap of magic ending abruptly as I release the spell. I don’t know if Emid will die, but I find that I don’t care either way. I make a half-hearted attempt at reconnecting to Diago, to finish what I started, but I now know that killing him wouldn’t be enough. And there’s not enough left of me to continue.

I see Edon raise his wand toward me, and then a wave of calm floods me.

It’s not real, but I can’t fight the effect of the calming spell. Exhaustion washes over me and I let myself fall into the darkness.

Maybe I’ll wake up later to find this has all been a nightmare. But the last sensation I feel as I fall to the ground and into unconsciousness is the deadness of Liara pressing against my arm, and the last sight I see is Nelle’s corpse, dead grey against the vibrant green ground.