‘We still have the blue lace agate, though you will need to wait for the one Mr Davis used to be cleansed. It will have his magic signature running rampant throughout it right now.’
I nod, if only to appease her. I’m not an air wielder. That I am sure of. Agate has never called to me, not once. In fact, I remember the feeling of approaching the stone archway during the welcoming ceremony like it was yesterday. Every fibre in my being was urging me – turn around, turn around, turn around.
It didn’t want me there.
My feet start moving before I realise I’ve decided to leave class early.
‘Aria!’ Tilly tugs on my hand. ‘Where are you going?’
Somewhere I can think.
‘I’m not feeling well.’ I give her what I hope is a genuine -looking smile. ‘I might go back to my room and rest.’
Xavier’s been pulled into a conversation by the professor, though he’s stealing glances over at me. There’s a worried and slightly guilty expression plastered to his face. I don’t want him thinking I’m leaving because of him. I will not let my lack of magic taint the joy of him finding his. So I mouth the words, ‘I’m proud of you,’ before turning back to Tilly.
‘I’ll meet you at the dining hall for lunch, okay?’
I don’t think she believes me about feeling ill, but she releases me anyway. Giving my hand that familiar squeeze she does when she wants to let me know she’s here for me.
With a tight smile sent her way, I leave and head in the direction of the cliffs.
THIRTY-NINE
My boots snap twigs and crunch on top of leaves as I run and I run. What I thought would be a walk to clear my head quickly morphed into a desperate need to get as far from the academy as possible. My legs and arms pump as I push myself further into the forest. I don’t know how long I’ve been running for, but my breathing is ragged, my heart is thrashing inside my chest, and my muscles are screaming at me to stop.
Trees pass in a blur of brown and green, and my dagger strapped to the inside of my leg feels heavier the more I exert myself.
I can still hear the ocean over my heavy panting and decide to head toward it. Meanwhile my thoughts are spiralling out of control. The trees thin out the closer I get to the cliff’s edge, their placements are sparser, making it easier to traverse through the forest.
I keep running, right until I can see the horizon. Clear and blue, not a cloud in sight. By now I would usually stop and sit among the trees but this time, I don’t. Instead, I find myself eventually slowing to a jog and then a walk. My eyes squint against the sun as I leave the cover of trees and step into the open expanse before me.
If I wasn’t breathing so heavily, I would gasp at how serene the ocean looks as it stretches far beyond what I can see.
I’ve never come out this far, never walked this close to the edge. The tips of my boots are a mere seven feet from the drop -off point; the crashing waves are deafening. Salty air blows my hair around my face,the white strands billow in my periphery widely, no doubt forming knots that I’ll have to brush out later tonight.
I feel almost weightless out here, like nothing really matters in comparison to the larger-than-life cliff edges I can see standing proud either side of me. They stretch on and on, seeming endless. The woes of my life seem utterly pointless and lacking when I think about it. I am a blip in the ocean compared to how long these cliffs have been here and will continue to be here well after I am gone. How many others have stood right in this spot before me? How many will come after?
Did the ocean make them feel as small as I do?
The cliffs, the wind, the ocean. Stars, even the heat of the sun that’s warming my shoulders and turning them pink. All of them connect somehow to the elements the students walking the academy halls behind me possess.
So why don’t I?
Why is it that when I look inside myself, I find nothing? I feel empty and barren of magic.
Frustrated tears fall from my eyes; the bite of the wind causes them to trickle faster down my cheeks. Even the most beautiful of views cannot dissipate my tremulous thoughts.
For some reason the words Sebastian said to me when he found me out by the cliffs weeks ago pop into my mind. When he told me Lukas would be ashamed of me. And reminded me how superior Lukas was at everything he did.
I resented the idea at the time that my brother would be disappointed in what I’ve become. But now, after I have been here for weeks and still there isn’t even a scrap of magic simmering inside me, I’m starting to wonder if Sebastian was right. I’ve read countless chapters about our people’s magic, about Valmora and how our Stars gifted each of us a fraction of theirs. How it has been passed down generation by generation. Maybe when Lukas was born, he took it all. Maybe he sucked our bloodline dry and when it was finally my time to fill our mother’s womb, there was nothing left for me.
Or maybe I came out defective, forever destined to live in my brother’s shadow.
Stars. My head drops.
Shame fills me as I let these awful thoughts plague my mind. I try to shake them out of my head but end up wrapping my arms around myself as darker ones replace them. Like a rolling storm, they just keep coming.
Like the anger I’m starting to feel toward Lukas. He was born naturally gifted, yet I am clearly lacking no matter how hard I’ve tried. Because it’s not like I haven’t. I trained with him; I practised my magic every night for years until I cried and sweat was beading at my temples. I don’t stand here and ask for a reward, without believing I must work for it. But how much harder must I work? How much longer do I have to hate what I am before I feel like I’m worthsomething?
