thirty-one
. . .
raea
I wakeup with a pounding headache, disoriented, and instantly aware of the sharp needles protruding from my arms. There are also tight bandages wrapped around my hands, hips, and ankles. The rhythmic beeping from the heart monitor hovering above me has me pinching my brows together. I don’t remember how I got here.
As I glance around the dimly lit room, I see my parents at the foot of my bed, their voices low but tense, and engaged in a heated discussion with Chancellor Xara. I catch fragments of their conversation floating through the air—words like “irresponsible” and “unacceptable” come to me, but as I strain to listen, I decide I don’t actually want to know what they’re arguing about. I have a good enough guess. “We should have this school shut down?—”
Kuron is also here, hovering in the corner, keeping watch. His dark, rich brown skin glimmers beneath the light. His black beard is new, cropped close to his face, and his hair is pulled tight in seven braids. He’s taller than everyone around him, and his presence only adds to the tension in the room.
And boy, does he look pissed.
My heart rate picks up as I sense something is off, but I just can’t remember what. Suddenly, a warm hand envelops mine, groundingme. I turn to find Kellan seated beside me. He holds a finger to his lips, urging me to be quiet. I nod, squeezing his hand for reassurance. As I examine his features, I notice how fatigued he looks—his eyes carry dark circles, and his usually neat hair appears disheveled. Despite the confusion, his familiarity wraps around me like a comforting blanket. Rain or shine, my best friend is always here.
“You’re awake,” he whispers, his voice shaky with emotion, before he musters a smile. “You scared the hell out of us, RaeRae.”
As I meet his gaze, a familiar ache settles in my chest, tightening my throat. How did I end up with this man as my best friend? The warmth of his hand gives me some solace, but I can’t shake the nagging question—how long have I been here?
As I glance down at my body, currently covered in warm blankets, and take in the bloodied nails and scrapes on my arms, flashes come back to me, making my stomach churn. I squeeze my eyes shut, seeing Trysten’s bleeding head on the console.
“We crashed,” I croak, my voice raspy, as if that single admission can encapsulate the unexplainable days on that beach. I wonder how long it took for them to find us.
“You can’t pull her out,” Professor Brendn protests, his voice firm and steady. Kellan and I turn toward my parents and staff, their faces half shrouded in shadows, illuminated only on one side by a soft, golden glow from the flickering sconce. “She needs to finish the year. Wait until next year if you want to withdraw her. There are only a few months left.” He crosses his arms defiantly, seemingly unfazed by the presence of the king and queen of the most powerful kingdom. I let out a weary sigh and glance back at Kellan.
His golden-brown hair is matted with mud in places, reminding me of our childhood days spent climbing trees and splashing in the streams that wound through the palace gardens until dusk, when we’d chase firebugs and laugh until our sides hurt.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, a realization dawning as though I’m beginning to piece together an unfinished puzzle.
“I was there, RaeRae. Care to explain?” Kellan’s voice trembles slightly. “Anders—he didn’t?—”
A vivid and overwhelming rush of memories floods my mind, accompanied by a wave of nausea. The crash, the tangled trees of the glowing forest, shadows, and the mist, distorted voices echoing in my mind, flashes of chaos and war. It’s all too much. I can barely keep my breath steady, feeling the walls close in around me.
“Anders…” I sit up abruptly, scanning the room, panic clawing at my chest.
The incessant beep of the heart monitor fills the silence as it moves out of the way, avoiding collision with my trembling body. He saved me. He pulled the burning power from me. Flashbacks attack my consciousness—the towering tree, the haunting whispers, the energy clash between light and dark, good and evil. The screams, the devastation that followed. Astor and Calia…and then there’s Anders—I need him—the thought crystallizes in my mind.
“Where is he?” I demand, adrenaline coursing through me as I rip the needles from my arm, ignoring the shock on Kellan’s face.
My mother gasps as she rushes to my side. “Raea!”
I glance to where Kellan now stands, his eyes churning with what looks like devastation.
My mother is dressed in a cornflower blue gown, its edges delicately embroidered with shimmering gold silk, reflecting the room’s soft light. It’s rare to see her hair loose and flowing, the dark waves reaching her mid-back and swaying gently as she leans over me, her fingers cupping my face with familiar tenderness. She’s always been overly fussy.
“How are you feeling, dear?” my father asks. His large, familiar hand envelops mine, soothing some of my frayed nerves as he stands beside my mother. Their concerned expressions make it seem like I’ve been lost for a month, not a few days. A fog of confusion clouds my memory as I grasp for some sense of clarity.
“I’m fine, I promise! Please, let me stand,” I insist, waving them off gently.
I love my parents, but their hovering can sometimes feel overwhelmingly suffocating. Habitually, I take Kellan’s hand for support, but then I freeze instinctively like I do with Anders. I brace myself forthe familiar jolt of energy, but nothing happens. I catch Kellan’s gaze flit from our intertwined hands to my face. The way his expression falls tells me he knows more than I had hoped. My eyes plead with him to understand, but for the first time ever, Kellan drops my hand, stepping away from me like I’ve become a complete stranger. The weight of his gaze crushes me.
I’m about to plead for him to give me a chance to explain, but Chancellor Xara interrupts. “Princess Raea.” She steps up to stand at the foot of my bed. “When you feel well enough, we want to discuss what occurred.”
I nod in acknowledgment, but before I can speak, my mother interjects fiercely, “Absolutely not.” At her side, my father lets out a long sigh and gives her hand a reassuring pat, as if trying to temper her.
“I’ll do it,” I declare, my voice stronger than I feel. Panic begins to seep back in as I realize I need to find Anders. “Where’s Anders?” I repeat. “I need to talk to him.”
The tightening sensation in my chest grows unbearable as more fragmented memories flash through my mind—the crash, Trysten and I searching for water, the drum beats, an image of the indigo and azure glowing tree encased in darkness emitting unrestrained power, followed shortly by a consuming mist, pain, so much pain, and Anders freeing me from the agony.
