Exhaustion settling over me, I was no longer able to hold a coherent thought, and the world rippled around me like vapor rising from a boiling pot. The auroras swirled over the Circle of Fate as if this were where they originated from. Logical thoughts tried to surface, something about light refraction and atmospheric conditions, but they evaporated before I could grab hold of them.
A dragon's cry pierced the twilight, and suddenly I was flying. No, not flying, falling. But the fear that should have accompanied the sensation was absent. Instead, I felt free, as if someone had yanked off the chains weighing me down.
"This isn't real," I muttered.
The auroras formed shapes above me, the familiar faces of my parents, my grandmother, and friends from the village. Each one seemed to be trying to tell me something, but their voices were lost in the wind. Then Alar appeared, his eyes holding secrets that seemed far more important than the ones he actually kept.
"What are you hiding from yourself?" he seemed to ask, though his lips didn't move.
The question struck something deep inside me, some truth I'd been avoiding. The world spun faster, and I found myself back in my grandmother's apothecary. But it wasn't the cluttered, practical space I knew. The herbs hanging from the ceiling had transformed into stars, and each bottle on the shelves contained something ridiculous, such as bottled dragon breath, distilled courage, or the essence of flight.
I would have laughed if I could. I would have lain down on the ground, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed, locked insidemy body, and panic threatened to steal the last of my ability to think coherently.
"Stop being so dramatic, Kailin," my grandmother's voice whispered, though she wasn't there. "This shall pass along with your limiting beliefs. You are so much more than your dreams."
The ground beneath me shifted, and suddenly I was kneeling in my father's workshop. Tools lined the walls, each one clean and polished until it gleamed. My father loved his tools, and I loved spending time with him there, fixing and renovating things or crafting new ones. He would do the heavy lifting, and I would add the finishing touches.
"You see patterns others miss," my father's voice echoed. "Not just in things, but also in people. In the way they fit together."
The workshop dissolved into the Circle of Fate, but now I could see the patterns of power flowing between the standing stones. They weren't magical or mystical; they were mathematical, precise, each angle and distance calculated to create something greater than the sum of its parts.
Of course. Math was magic. I'd always known that.
Just like the quintet system we'd used on the mountain.
Just like the way different personalities and skills could balance each other, creating something more substantial than any individual could manifest alone. When teamed, personal weaknesses could be overcome by the collective strength of the group.
"Time to rise and embrace your destiny, Kailin of Skywatcher's Point," a deep voice sounded inside my head. "Rise and come forward."
My body moved before my mind could process the command. I felt like I was sleepwalking, but with each step, my thoughts began to clear. Through the clearing haze, I saw otherswalking forward too. Our entire quintet was moving as one: Alar, Codric, Shovia, Morek, and I.
Others were walking forward as well, but most remained seated or lying where they'd fallen, still lost in their visions.
Whispers started among those still conscious enough to notice what was happening. I caught fragments of conversations, bits of shocked speculation.
"The entire quintet?"
"Impossible..."
"Are those the two Elurians?"
The traditionalists were aghast, their disapproval clear even through my tea-addled senses. This wasn't how it was supposed to work. We weren't all supposed to be chosen. Especially not the foreigners among us.
Shaman Saphir raised his staff, Moki gestured with his arms, chattering excitedly on his shoulder, and the dragons roared in what sounded like approval.
We had all been chosen, and whatever being gifted truly meant was evidently far more complex than any of us had suspected.
The truth I'd seen in my visions settled into place like the final piece of a complex puzzle. I wasn't just seeing patterns—I was part of them. We all were. Our quintet wasn't created randomly just because we'd happened to be friends and walked together. Or perhaps our friendship and cooperation were precisely the reasons we'd all been chosen.
The way we'd worked together on the mountain, the way we'd balanced each other's strengths and weaknesses, the way we'd somehow shared visions during our climb—it had all led us to this moment.
43
ALAR
"By blood we are called.
By merit we rise."
