“We’ve been watching,” said Altair. He gave a wry smile. “There’s not much else to do when you’re stuck in orbit. We care because, much like the gods have a vested interest in humanity, and after a thousand years of observing, we do as well. Safe to say you’ve grown on us.” It had never occurred to Emmeric that the stars were actual, living beings confined to the sky, only orbiting, unable to move on their own. Honestly, it sounded like torture. He wondered how this fate came to pass, but judging by how cagey Altair was during Imo’s explanations, an answer would not be forthcoming.
“I was part of a group assigned to watch Uther,” Altair continued. “The past thirty years of his rule, he’s become steadily more ruthless and cruel. We know of his plans to conquer the continent. He believes it’s his gods-given right to become ruler of Arinem, and then he’ll set his sights on other continents. Our fear is what we cannot see.”
“What you can’t see?” Emmeric asked.
Altair spared him a glance, then refocused on Iyana, who was still curled in upon herself in the chair, fiddling with a necklace she hadn’t been wearing earlier. Emmeric rolled his eyes. “There are times he appears to be… obscured by something, and all we can see is a blackness surrounding him. We’re unable to discern what he discusses during these times. It’s unlike anything we’ve seen before.”
“How is itwecan help, then?” Iyana asked, gesturing between herself and Emmeric. “We’re only two humans. What good are we compared to the might of a star?”
Altair sighed. “My power may be great, but I am currently weakened with the rest of my brethren still in the sky. And I am beholden to certain rules. I’m unable to interfere directly—”
“Or what?” Emmeric interjected, which earned him a golden-eyed glare.
“I would be banished back to the sky.” The admission shocked them both. Iyana was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. And that—that was adorable.
“It was difficult enough to fall once. It would not happen again.” He again directed his intense stare at Iyana. She seemed to perk up slightly with his attention. “A massive amount of an Aztia’s power directed towards us is our only escape, and it’s only enough for one of us to make the journey. We became more concerned withUther approximately twenty years ago, and we scoured the earth for an Aztia, but couldn’t find one. Your grandmother had sheltered you well.”
Iyana let out a shuddering breath. Altair’s voice softened. “She blocked your magic—likely when you were an infant. You would’ve been able to access it sooner otherwise.”
Frowning, she shook her head. “Grandmother said she would need to bless me and ink my tattoo in order for me to come into my magic and become a healer officially.”
“She was lying, my star,” said Altair. “If you had been able to tap into it, we would have found you much sooner. It was another attempt to protect you. When she pressed her bloody thumb to your brow it unlocked the bindings to your magic.”
Closing her eyes, Iyana said, “I can feel it. When I’d reach for it before, there was something moving about sluggishly, trying to break free. But now I sense this gentle warmth coursing through me.”
Emmeric frowned. He felt nothing like what she was describing. Doubt increased within him—there was no chance he was this ‘Kanaliza’ Imo and Altair were convinced he was. Rubbing his chest, he realized his two new companions were silently watching him.
“I can’t feel anything,” he said. “And I’ve shown no proclivity towards magic before.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Altair, shaking his head. “You’re the Kanaliza. Your role is to direct and amplify Iyana’s natural magical abilities.”
“Can you really blame me for doubting all of this?” Emmeric asked, his voice raising. He waved his hand towards Iyana. “At least she was training to be a healer, and knew she’d be gaining magical powers at some point. I’m just a soldier! I lived a fairly quiet life before this craziness...” He took a deep breath to steady himself before things escalated further.
“Aquietlife?” Iyana snapped. “Quietly murdering people everywhere you go?”
Any semblance of calm Emmeric had disappeared. “I never said I enjoyed what I do. There was little choice for me. It was join the guard and live a decently comfortable life, or go work in the fields or mines. And once you’re in, it’s next to impossible to leave outside of dying.” He stood suddenly, pacing the small room. “You haveno ideawhat life in Athusia is like. Fuck, you don’t know whatmylife has been like!”
Dragging a hand through his hair, he said, “I need to go home. I’m sure everyone thinks I’m dead, and I can’t continue to let my friend fret over the possibility.”
Iyana scoffed. “I’m surprised you even have a friend.”
Before Emmeric could respond with a scathing comment, Altair interjected. “Iyana will need to train with her magic, and she needs you for that.”
“No she doesn’t,” Emmeric said at the same time Iyana said, “No, I don’t.”
“There you have it,” Emmeric said. “The lady says she doesn’t need me, and so I’ll be taking my leave.”
Altair ignored Emmeric altogether, directing his comment to Iyana instead. “Youwillneed him. While you may access a small portion of magic on your own, you’ll never come into your full abilities without him.”
“Sure,” muttered Emmeric. “Go ahead, talk about me like I’m not in the room.” Louder, he said, “Again,hugedoubts on my end that I am what you’re claiming. I want no part in this.”
“Fine with me,” said Iyana.
“Besides, conspiring against my emperor will most definitely get me hanged.” Emmeric looked towards Iyana, still curled in her chair, eyelids puffy from lack of sleep and crying. He softened slightly. “I realize I represent everything you hate at the moment, and I know you don’t want me here.”
Obviously surprised, her caramel-colored eyes widened. “At least you’re astute.”
“All I’m asking is for a small amount of provisions and I’ll be out of your hair tonight.”
