She finished drying her face and took a seat on the cot. Emmeric sat next to her, and Iyana inched away from him ever so slightly. Altair returned with her chair, noticed them both sitting on the cot, and sat in it himself. It forced Iyana and Emmeric to look up at the older pair—one human, brittle, and devastatinglymortal; the other ancient, unageing. Iyana felt like a child about to receive a scolding; she sat on her hands to keep from fidgeting.
“Let’s begin at the beginning,” said Imo. Iyana perked up—that was the phrase her grandmother used to start every story she was told as a young girl. She used to love trying to stay up late, warm by the hearth, the scent of herbal tea in the air, listening to Mata Imo’s stories. More often than not, she would drift away in the middle of the story, only to wake up on her own cot. The next morning she’d beg Imo to finish the rest of the story, to which Imo would always chuckle.In due time, she’d say.You need to learn patience, Iyana.She smiled at the fond memory.
“Many years ago, when the stars walked upon the earth,” Imo glanced at Altair. He gave her a small nod. “The old gods gifted a couple just a spark of their magic in order to help keep Arinem safe. The woman became known as the Aztia and the man grew into the Kanaliza role. There are many things that remain unknown about them, but we know the Aztia is capable of great magic, and the Kanaliza is there to act as a conduit and amplify that magic. The two work together in a symbiotic relationship, as one cannot be victorious without the other.
“The first Aztia and Kanaliza were known as noble warriors and were highly revered. After they passed to the Everlands, another Aztia and Kanaliza were born, and this pattern continued for every generation. While the originals were a romantic couple, that did not always hold true for the newly chosen ones, as they were randomly born across the world. However, they found themselves instinctively drawn together, like two opposing poles of a magnet.”
Iyana felt Emmeric’s gaze on her face, and she pointedly ignored him. He might have been attractive, with his toned muscles, the intricate tattoo snaking up his entire left arm, and those striking blue eyes… Iyana refocused.He’s the enemy, she reminded herself.
“Over time, the legend of the original warriors was forgotten,” Imo continued, “and as magic became more and more diluted within humans, people started viewing the Aztia and Kanaliza as a threat. When together, the amount of magic they produced was akin to godhood, especially compared to a modern human’s magic. And so, if their identity was discovered, they were typically executed.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Emmeric said. Imo gave him a chiding look, and Iyana swallowed a giggle. Her grandmother really disliked her stories being interrupted.At least he had the decency to appear embarrassed. “But what does any of this have to do with us?” He gestured between the two of them, and she slapped his hand away. He scowled at her, unimpressed, and Iyana responded by sticking her tongue out at him.
“If you’re quite done acting like children,” Imo snapped, “I was about to tell you.”
“Sorry, Mata Imo,” said Iyana. Although, making fun of Emmeric made her warm inside, and she wasn’t sure if that meant she should do it more or less.
“As I was saying,” the old woman continued, “as soon as Iyana was born, I felt it. The magic. Your potential. You’re the Aztia, my dear.” Imo’s tone was gentle, but the statement ricocheted through Iyana’s soul. Her head shook from her denial without being aware of the motion.
“That’s impossible. I haven’t shown any inclinations of magic, and I’ve tried! I’ve tried…” The beginnings of panic crept in—her chest tightened, her breathing quickened, and her face began to tingle, then turned numb. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’tbreathe. Suddenly, Altair was next to her, smoothing back her hair. His golden eyes held her gaze. She had completely forgotten he was in the room.
“Easy,” he said, as though she were a skittish animal. “Deep breaths.” Iyana did as he commanded, feeling the tightness retreat and a soft glow filled her chest instead. She raised her eyebrow at Altair. “I may have helped a little…” He wiggled his fingers in the air and smiled. “Magic.”
She took another deep breath to steady herself. Mata Imo gave her an apologetic look and continued, “I discussed my concerns with your parents.” Iyana never knew her parents—Imo seldom talked of them, but maybe now she’d finally get some answers. “My daughter Isa and her husband Iver…” Grandmother had tears in her eyes. Iyana had never once seen Imo cry.
Grandmother cleared her throat, blinking the tears away. “They decided when you were one year of age, they were going to find help. They wanted to break this ‘curse’ as they called it and said they’d go to the ends of the world to find answers.” Imo made eye contact with Iyana. “I haven’t seen them since.” Iyana deflated. At least she now had some answers as towhyher parents had left, but in their wake, an entire slew of new questions arose.
“Um…” Emmeric interrupted again. “Does every name in your village start with ‘I’?”
Imo nodded like this was a pertinent question. “Oh, yes, everyone. Well, except for Kelvin.”
“Kelvin?”
“He’s not from this continent, and a mystery I have yet to work out…” Imo stared into the distance for a moment, then clapped her hands. Iyana chuckled. There was no Kelvin in their village, but Emmeric’s face appeared he’d be thinking about this for a while, and what exactly made ‘Kelvin’ special. “Anyway, Iyana, my dear, I am so sorry to have kept this from you for so long. I only wanted to ensure your safety. I had hoped this day would never come.” She understood; her grandmother only had her best interests at heart, but it didn’t diminish the pain of being left out of this monumental piece of her identity. The situation was still confusing and muddled—she couldn’t figure out where she fit in the world as the Aztia. Emmeric was obviously the Kanaliza. It was the only reason Imo would allow a stranger, and an Athusan at that, to continue this discussion with them, but he didn’t seem to realize it yet.
Emmeric ran a tattooed hand through his dark hair and tugged slightly. “Why am I here?” he asked. Nope, definitely hadn’t realized. Iyana lamented being shackled to an imbecile. “And how did you know my name?” He directed this last question at Imo.
“Emmeric,” Imo chided. “You really think with my granddaughter as the Aztia I wouldn’t do research into who the Kanaliza is? I have known for many years who you are, thanks to some of my healer friends in Athusia. They sensed the innate magic in you, as I did with Iyana.”
Iyana glanced towards Altair, who, other than helping her through her panic attack, had been sitting in his chair serenely watching the interaction. Emmeric and Imo continued to discuss something regarding him or the Kanaliza; honestly, Iyana cared little. It had faded to the background as she studied the star in front of her. A living, ancient being—not human—was sitting in her grandmother’s hut, and they were all leaving him out of the conversation. His head turned slowly toward her, and her breath gave the slightest hitch. Altair’s lips upturned at the corner inthe beginning of a smile before his gaze traveled lower over her body. Golden eyes became molten with heat, and Iyana felt the warmth to her core.
Iyana.Something niggled at the back of her brain, but at that moment there was no world outside of Altair.
“Iyana!” her grandmother shouted, shaking her out of her trance. She looked between Imo and Altair, and now there wasdefinitelya smirk on his face. Smug bastard… “Are you even listening?”
“I’m sorry, Grandmother. This is just… a lot to process,” she said, avoiding Imo’s gaze while trying to quell the heat between her thighs. “There are so many questions—I don’t know where to begin.” Emmeric grunted in agreement with her. It was annoying that they agreed on anything, but whatever.
Imo nodded knowingly. “There’s a bottle, dear, up in the corner cupboard. It’s labeled ‘for medicinal purposes only’. Could you fetch that?”
Iyana did as she asked, handing it down to her in the chair. “What is that for, Grandmother? I don’t think I’ve seen you use it before.”
Imo chuckled. “Ever the academic. It’s alcohol, love. It’s for drinking.” She took a pull from the bottle and grimaced. “It’s homemade, I’m afraid, but that’s what you get when you’re as isolated as we are.” Iyana took her seat as Imo passed the bottle to Emmeric.
He took a long drink without so much as blinking. “It’s honestly better than some of the swill I’ve had before. My compliments.” He saluted the bottle to Imo before handing it to Iyana. She took a small sip, which immediately caused her to choke. Pounding her chest to clear the burn searing her entire esophagus, she looked at Imo incredulously.
“Youdrinkthat?”
“Hand it here,” Altair said. “It’s been ages since my last drink.” She happily gave it to him. The blissful look on his face from only a sip of the alcohol made the burn completely disappear, and Iyana decided she definitely wanted to see that expression again.
