Again, I try to pull away, but to no avail. I give her a withering glare. “What’s missing?”
“Pieces of your essence, my dear. Your soul.” She leans in closer to examine my face, and I see flecks of gold in her dark eyes, like countless soul stars.
I blink. “And what am I supposed to do about that? Buy new ones?” I can’t help the sarcasm. She’s making no sense.
She clicks her tongue. “Watch your tongue, child. Too much fire can be a curse as much as a gift. If you do not learn how to containit, you will burn to ashes.” She places a hand at the back of my heart, and her face takes on a grave expression. “Such an ocean of pain,” she murmurs. “Loss... betrayal... and guilt that isn’t even yours to carry.” Genuine sadness crosses her face before her stern expression returns. “Besides, fire is not enough. To find wholeness, you needallthe elements. We all do.” She pins me with her starry black gaze, then recites words as if reading from a text.
Allow me to intimately know the earth: my body and my senses. To subdue myself in the realm of water: the soulful world of emotions, intuition, and healing. Let me breathe in the realm of air: of intellect, story, and song. And help me tend my inner realm of fire: stoking my empowerment, passion, and rebirth. And through mastery of the four, let me gain the fifth, the element of spirit, my true soul and essence. May I learn to embrace all to become all.
“It’s beautiful,” I say once she’s done. “What’s it called?”
Disapproval crosses her face. “Do you not know the Rean Prayer, child?” Having let go of my face, she now circles me as she talks. “It is natural to be stronger in some elements than others. It depends on your moons, where you were born... If you are C’elen, your strength and skill in wielding the elen. However, striving for mastery in all elements is advisable. Most Reans will weigh heavily toward the natural element of their homeland, but the truly powerful know how to embrace them all.
“Let me illustrate,” she says, noticing my puzzled expression. “Your two friends are excellent examples.” She gives me no time to ponder how she knows about Vilder and Seniia. “The Reans of the Waterlands, the island nation of Riverii, are often amazing healers and empaths,” she says. “Like your friend.” She gestures toward the door Seniia went through. “While the Reans of the Western Plains, andparticularly the singers, learn to listen to the wind from a young age and carry the history of the world in their stories and songs.”
“And fire and earth?” I ask.
She taps her lips with a finger, her long nails painted a deep purple. “The blade maidens of E’Ilden are the world’s fiercest fighters,” she explains, “because they embrace the fire of the land, allowing the Temple of L’Azar to hone and forge them into deadly weapons. Similarly, Tierra’s natives are unmatched in cultivation, their connection to Rean soil unparalleled. These cultures let the elemental power of their homelands fuel them. Yet, as I mentioned, true power comes from balancing all four elements—a feat even the C’elen no longer seem capable of.” Disdain colors her voice.
“But enough of that.” She pins me with her black eyes. “Because you, my child, fare much worse. Not only were you raised in a land without a soul, but you yourself have very little left of your own.” Her scrutinizing gaze runs across my body in a way that makes my skin prickle. “It’s almost a miracle you’re breathing at all.” She taps the space right above my heart. “Someone knew exactly what they were doing.”
I stare at her in silent confusion, unsure how to react. She seems to know an awful lot about me. “Who would steal pieces of someone’s soul?”
She lets out a dry laugh. “Oh, you would be surprised...”
“But... why me?” This is making less sense by the heartbeat. “I’m as unimportant as anyone can get. Burn you, I’m probably the most powerless being on all of Rea. I’m barely allowed to decide what to do with my time on the best of days.”
She lets out a low snort, as if what I’m saying is amusing.
“Child.” She pauses briefly, making sure I’m listening. “Do not tell me you are so far gone you cannot sense that you have but a fragment of your soul left inside of you?”
“I...” Without thinking, I rest my hand atop the hollow spot in my chest. Is that why I feel so empty? No, I decide. What she’s sayingis ridiculous. “All I know is that my life is better than it has been for the past twenty years.” I straighten my spine, determined not to let her scare me. I glance toward the door Seniia went through. What’s taking her so long?
The female follows my gaze. “She will not come for a while yet,” she says. The small crystal beads in her many braids click softly as she moves through the store, adding pinches of dried herbs and drops of colorful tinctures to a glass jar. She turns toward me. “Your soul is calling, child. Can you not hear it? Or has your time in the soulless land made you deaf to its voice?” She sets the jar on a nearby shelf and walks to stand behind me, placing her hands on my temples. “Close your eyes and listen.”
I want nothing but to be as far away from this female as possible, but her presence commands unquestioning obedience, and so I do as she says.
As I close my eyes, a vivid vision rushes into my mind. I see a towering mountain, its peaks covered in snow, while the rest of its darkened stone seems to devour what little light surrounds it. A distinct crack runs along its center, splitting it into two halves and forming a narrow pathway. Perched precisely at the mountain’s midpoint, the Celestial Moon hangs pregnant, surrounded by her four lesser moons, all of them at their peak. Their ethereal glow weaves together, casting a solitary beam of light that illuminates the entrance to the passage. I let out a gasp as she lets go of me, the vision disappearing.
“At the heart of Anam’gate are the missing pieces you seek.” Returning to the jar,she continues her walk through the store, adding another pinch of herbs into the jar before she fills the rest with a clear liquid. “You can choose to ignore it, of course, but your soul will never cease wanting to fulfill its purpose. The soul never does.” Her dark gaze locks onto mine. “So when you go—and you will—enter at Mi’Awal. No sooner.” She grabs ahold of my jaw again, forcing me to meet her eyes. “And most certainly no later. Am I understood?”
It’s hard to both nod and speak when she holds me in her grasp.
“Mi’Awal?” I press out.
"Yes, Mi'Awal." Her lips press into a thin line. "When all four of the lesser moons peak in unison with the Celestial Moon—the most powerful convergence. Have they taught you nothing, child?"
Apparently not.
“Do not get complacent.” She gives my jaw a squeeze. “Do you hear me?”
I manage a muffled sound of agreement.
She lets go of my jaw and pushes the jar with the mixture she has made into my hands. “There will come a time when you will have to forget what has been.” She glides toward the door. “Use it wisely, Laïna.” She shuts the door behind her.
“Hey,” I call after her, a little too late, my hand reaching out before dropping. “I didn’t tell you my name...” Not knowing what else to do, I sink down onto the stool and wait for Seniia to come back. I turn the jar over in my hands, studying the mixture inside—swirls of color suspended in clear liquid. Use it wisely, she said. But for what?
Placing the jar in my satchel, I lean back against the wall, massaging my temples. Pieces of my soul, missing. I snort. The words feel absurd even as I think them. A woman I've never met, spouting visions like some sort of oracle.
