The Halves of Us Read online

  Felipe continued, “Blue is a good color on you.”

  Aura glanced at the Guard uniform. “Yes, they chose the color because of how good it looked on me.” She avoided his gaze.

  He chuckled. “Yeah? Not really my color, though. I think I look better in black.”

  “Yep,” she said, barely listening. She furrowed her brow when she saw Adie blush.

  “So are you excited about the viewing? The other students haven’t stopped talking about it. Most know about the Sights, but none have seen one.”

  “Thrilled,” Aura said half-heartedly.

  Adie giggled at something Samuel said. Aura’s nose scrunched up. Why her, Samuel?

  Felipe leaned toward her. “So is he courting her?”

  “No. No.” Aura shook her head and turned to Felipe. “Samuel is just our Personal Guard’s son, so we’ve known him for a long time.” Aura eyed them as she spoke.

  Samuel rested his hand on Adie’s.

  “Hmm.” Felipe nodded as he leaned away.

  Aura shifted her gaze away from them, looking toward Felipe.

  His lips curled into a half-smile. “You know, we met once, briefly.”

  Aura nodded as though she remembered.

  “I came for some training with the Tribesmen three Seasons ago. You were helping with the training in Donte. You were . . .” Felipe paused, and Aura watched him closely, unsure what he was going to say.

  “I was . . .”

  He tilted his head, running his hand through his curly hair. “You know the gold stitching on your uniform really brings out the flakes of yellow in your eyes.”

  Aura tried to hold back a laugh but failed. “I’m sorry.” She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think that’s what you were going to say. I . . . what’s your name again?”

  “Felipe.” He extended his palm forward, facing her.

  She placed her flat palm against his in greeting.

  “I’m on your sister’s Council, representing the—”

  “Ambrielle, Ruler of Thindoral.” Michael bellowed before bowing and quickly stepping to the side.

  The doors opened, and Ambrielle entered with their father, Nemiah, by her side.

  The room hushed, and everyone stood. Ambrielle’s emerald dress billowed around her as she seemingly floated toward the front of the Teaching Hall. Headmaster Tut, disheveled as always, greeted her at the front before she faced the students and motioned them to sit. Her scarlet curls were pinned in a half-updo, showcasing her high cheekbones. The Rokis lay on her chest. The center blue gem beamed, creating a hue around her.

  Aura had always admired her mother’s beauty. Even if her mother wasn’t the Ruler, she was sure the room would go silent the moment she walked in.

  “Greetings,” Ambrielle said. “This is Fate telling us where we are meant to be.”

  Everyone echoed her sentiment, and Aura mumbled the words.

  “It’s an honor to be here today. This year’s final Teachings are special, as they contain our future Council and our future leaders of Thindoral. I implore you to explore, question, and take in every bit of knowledge your teachers and predecessors provide you.” She neared closer to the tables, and the students straightened in their chairs. “The Ruler has been entrusted by the great Designers of our universe to protect not only our world, but the whole universe from the darkness they’ve locked away in Vadim, the forbidden area to our north.” She placed her hand on the Rokis. “As custom, I’m to discuss and show you what lies in Vadim so you may know the importance of your leadership and so you can be prepared for anything.”

  A large Ogre from the far side of the room raised his hand. Ambrielle pointed at him, and he stood.

  “Greetings, Ruler Ambrielle. I’m Jikohg, future Council member from Tanhera.” He cleared his throat. “What is it exactly we need to be prepared for? The evil residing in Vadim has remained there for . . . well, since it was placed there, right?” He sat back down in the chair he barely fit in. His single eye looked quizzically at Ambrielle.

  “Good questions, Jikohg. And please, call me Ambrielle.”

  She stepped closer toward the students. She pulled the Rokis from her chest, inhaling deeply as she placed it on the table in front of her and stepped away. Her shoulders drooped, and Aura wondered if anyone else noticed the slight trembling of her hands.

  “I know many of you have heard tales of how our world came to be. Wendelone, or as she’s often referred to among the regions, the Wicked Willow, was once a Designer. A great one, one of the most powerful. She wanted to rule our world and others to bow down before her. But Fate tasked the Designers to only create life, not rule it. Because of her greed, her power grew dark. With permission from Fate, the other Designers banished her to a tree on our planet, in the region of Vadim. She is to remain there, bound for all eternity. It was said the Designers were told by Fate to strip her of her powers, but before they could, she hid them. With what little power she had left, she was deemed harmless. It’s our duty to keep it that way.” Ambrielle placed her hand on the center gem of the Rokis. “Show me, Vadim.”

  Aura’s breath caught as a bright light burst throughout the room. She blinked as her eyes adjusted and an image surrounded the Teaching Hall. Above them, the sky of Vadim reflected shades of dark red, not the normal bright blue she was used to. Scattered gray clouds loomed above a stone wall to their left, with the symbol of the Rokis on top. Opposite the wall, stood a single decrepit tower.

  “In order to protect the world and the universe from her darkness, the Designers bestowed upon us a gift, the Rokis.” Ambrielle’s fingers traced the corners of the Rokis. “They tasked us with making sure the darkness never left our world, and thus created an everlasting line of Rulers to manage the power of the Rokis and keep the universe safe. However, over time, Wendelone’s anger and loneliness grew dark. It consumed the land around her, creating the forbidden region we call Vadim. Her wickedness became stronger, casting shadows that took form and serve her—the Sights. They’re bound to the region and cannot pass through the gate surrounding Vadim.”

  Aura looked around at the wide-eyed students as the air grew heavy and still. Her gaze returned to the lonely tower. Its front double doors were open as though it expected company. A low whisper came from her left side and vanished as she glanced over her shoulder. A girl with iridescent, glowing skin gave her an awkward glance and turned away. Her mother’s voice brought her attention back to the front of the room.

  “The Wicked Willow seeks power so she can escape.” She eyed the Rokis. “The Rokis will protect the owner if ever faced by a Sight or someone as dark as Wendelone herself. The Rokis protects us from the darkness. However, in the wrong hands, it could destroy all that is good.”

  Ambrielle placed her hand back on the gem and motioned forward. The image in the room quickly shifted, zooming in the opposite direction of the tower, toward the far side of Vadim as a tall black structure appeared. It grew larger and larger as they neared it.

  “You’re correct, Jikhog, in saying that the evil in Vadim has stayed there. But we must always keep watch. It’s our job to keep the darkness contained, and darkness can be unpredictable.”

  As the projection continued to zoom, a breeze rushed passed them, holding the class in amazement. The zoom stopped, and the shadow of a tree cast itself across the room.

  Before them stood the Wicked Willow. The light emanating from the Rokis allowed them to take in the large structure. They all looked upward, admiring the height of the dark tree with its thousands of thin, wispy branches covered in dark green leaves. Roots protruded from the ground as if it were attempting to free itself and walk away, but the tree stood silently and black as night.

  Aura heard Adie gasp, and their eyes met. Adie’s mouth opened as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t. A coldness moved across Aura’s skin, rippling down her limbs. The low whisper returned.

  This time she knew something was behind her. She looked over her shoulder
as other students moved away from her, toward the front of the room.

  Aura stood from her chair and froze. Her face gripped in fear. Felipe grabbed her hand, and she glanced at him as everyone else scattered away.

  A Sight stood directly in front of her. An unwelcoming heat permeated from the skeletal frame that towered over them. The black exterior glistened like silk over lumps of bones on the body of the Sight.

  Aura squeezed Felipe’s hand tighter as the red glow of its eyes, the only visible feature on its face, seemed to zero in on her. The Sight lifted its elongated arm and pointed its bony finger toward Aura.

  “What do I do?” Aura whispered.

  “It can’t see us. We’re just viewing a projection from the Rokis,” Tut said as he walked toward Aura.

  The Sight turned its gaze toward Tut, making him stop in his tracks. It jolted its attention back toward Aura.

  The whisper returned, soft and low, repeating. Aura’s brow furrowed as she tried to discern them, unable to take her eyes off the Sight.

  The whispers stopped, and a low voice made her jump. “Vow now, sayeth aye.”

  She heard it speak. She peered into the red eyes of the Sight. It spoke! “What?” she whimpered, clutching Felipe’s hand even harder. Her heart raced, and a feeling of dread weighted her down, keeping her frozen in place.

  Felipe moved in front of her. The Sight let out a shriek that echoed through the room, piercing their ears. Ambrielle froze and Tut ran up to her, tapping the center gem of the Rokis twice.

  The projection disappeared.

  Felipe’s hands rested on Aura’s shoulders, turning her to face him. He leaned toward her. “Hey! Hey!” he said, trying to bring her back to reality.

  Aura tried to focus on him. Her hands trembled, and she reached unknowingly for his. The crimson eyes of the Sight carved itself into her memory. “It could see me,” she whispered. Her eyes met Felipe’s, looking for help or reassurance that it couldn’t be possible. She could only see worry. “There were whispers . . . and I heard it speak!” Aura’s gaze shifted to her mother at the front of the room as the students and teachers looked between them.

  “The Sights do not speak,” Ambrielle said. “They can wail and shriek, but they don’t speak.”

  “But I heard it. I heard it, Mother. It said, ‘vow now, sayeth aye.’ I heard it speak,” Aura replied. Her throat tightened as her eyes brimmed with tears. She watched her mother instantly stand upright as she placed the Rokis back on her chest. “I heard it . . .” Her voice trailed off as the Teaching Hall fell into a deep silence.

  Ambrielle turned over her shoulder. “You’re mistaken. The Sights do not speak.”

  “But—”

  She raised her hand, silencing Aura. With a nod, she motioned for Gossamer to come forward.

  Tut cleared his throat. “Aura, none of us heard anything. Perhaps your fear got the best of you.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

  Fear? Aura’s jaw clenched. “Don’t you fear them?” Aura asked, almost shouting at Tut.

  Every eye glanced at her, and Aura heard the clicking of her mother’s heels move toward her. She forced herself to look at Ambrielle. Her mother kept her poise and stared into Aura’s eyes.

  “We fear what we do not understand. We fear what we do not know. We fear what we cannot see, whether what we fear is real or not. The choice you have to make is whether you allow the fear to consume you.”

  Aura’s gaze dropped to the floor.

  Ambrielle returned her attention to the rest of the room. “Gossamer will lead you to the Room of Papers now. Let this all be a lesson for you on the darkness in Vadim and how important it is we keep it locked in that region.”

  Aura slowly sat back down in her seat. She heard the swish of her mother’s dress as she left. Her chest grew tight with each breath as she tried to calm her heavy heart and swallow the lump in her throat. Don’t you dare cry, she begged herself.

  She blinked back the tears. Felipe moved closer to her side, her hand still gripping his. She told herself to let go, but she couldn’t.

  He pulled his chair closer toward her and sat. “Aura,” he whispered. “I heard it, too.”

  She looked at him. Her mouth fell partially open as her brow furrowed. Her thoughts raced as she studied him, trying to read his dark eyes. “What did you say?”

  He only nodded at her.

  He had heard it, too.

  3

  Adie

  Even as Adie walked down the hallway, awake and free of her nightmares, she could still feel the crawling sensation just below her skin. She rubbed the silk sleeves covering the scratches she gave herself last night. There was nothing underneath her skin, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

  Images from the dream haunted her. They haunted her like a hunter stalks prey. To fight was futile. Her mind would eventually tear her apart. It always did. Even when she closed her eyes, the nightmare stayed inked into the back of her eyelids. The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she remembered her mother’s guttural cries as a lady in waiting told her to push. It was our birth . . . but not the same. Not the same because it ended with everyone being dead.

  Her father’s joyous smile surfaced, proudly boasting the first baby born and naming her Aura. But his joy vanished when a bright crimson light appeared in the corner of the room, shooting sparks that circled around one another as the ground trembled and the walls cracked. A burst of light pulsated through the room, blinding Adie as she hid in the corner. When she opened her eyes, there was only death.

  Then came the black lines swimming through her veins, creating a painful heat, burning her skin.

  She scratched at her wrists, attempting to ease the discomfort from the memory of the slithering snake-like lines underneath her skin. They were never there. It’s all in your head. She focused on her Uncle Gossamer’s full head of gray hair up ahead as he led them toward the Room of Papers. She inhaled deeply, letting her shoulders rise and fall as she exhaled. There’s only so much Fae dust can do to cover up the redness under my eyes. Thankfully, Thora, their lady in waiting, didn’t ask questions when she asked for more dust. The nightmares had grown stronger in the past few months. For a moment, Adie wished their one-on-one tutoring could continue through their final year.

  A nervousness crept up her back, making her shiver. Today she found out her Fate. It wasn’t like she already didn’t know. But today, it was more real, set in stone, and she couldn’t deny it any longer. And afterward, her first one on one lesson with her mother and the Rokis. But I’ve already touched the Rokis. She cursed her younger self for being so reckless. The tree. Adie had tried for so long to forget the tree she saw that night when she disappeared. The way the limbs seemed as though they were extensions of Aura, coming toward her as black clouds swirled through them. It had looked just like the tree from the viewing. The Wicked Willow. She shivered again.

  She’d kept the secret for so long. They both had. It dug into her soul, creating a hollow pit where she stuffed all her fears of not being the true future Ruler of Thindoral. She wondered how Aura dealt with the secret. Aura! Adie glanced around feeling guilty of drowning in her own thoughts and sadness. I’ve never seen Aura that scared. She’s the brave one.

  Adie slowed and moved to the wall so other students could pass her. Aura’s fiery red hair toward the back of the crowd caught her eye, and she hurried toward her. Her furrowed brow, clenched jaw, and the shaking of her head made her appear as though she was arguing with herself.

  “Aura, are you—” Adie paused when she saw Aura’s hand linked to another’s.

  A tall, dark-skinned boy with curly black hair smiled at her. Aura quickly released his hand as though she just realized she was holding it.

  But what about Samuel? Aura had eyes for Samuel since they were young, but Samuel had never shown any interest moving beyond friends. She remembered the way his gray eyes had looked at her earlier. Why doesn’t he look at Aura that way? She dismissed the thought and
focused on Aura.

  “I wanted to check on you after the viewing. Did you really hear the Sight speak?” Adie asked as they continued toward the Room of Papers.

  Aura didn’t say anything but shot her a hurtful look.

  “I believe you . . . I just . . .” She searched for the right words and fumbled with her hands. She watched the boy stare at Aura. He looked as though he wanted to speak, but like Adie, struggled to find the words.

  They remained silent and slowed as the crowd up ahead came to a stop. Voke, Mr. Ribblet’s son, came up beside them. He rubbed his bald, oval-shaped head. His skin shifted to a darker shade of green, revealing his nerves, and he croaked. Adie was about to say something to calm him, when she heard her uncle’s voice.

  “We’re headed down to the former dungeon area. It hasn’t been used as a prison in hundreds of years. It’s more of an archive area now, deep inside the mountain connected to the Dome.”

  Adie turned to speak to Aura, but she was no longer by her side. How does she always disappear like that? We were supposed to do this together. They reached a large door she’d never been through but had always made her curious. Or more, it had always made Aura curious.

  Don’t tell Aura not to touch something, because then all she wants to do is touch it.

  The Forbidden Door.

  It remained locked at all times. Long, thick bars of brass bolted the silver door, crisscrossing at different angles, making the door impenetrable. Adie shuddered as she heard her mother’s voice in her head. Behind this door lies the Fates of our people, guarded by a creature most foul.

  Years ago, when she and Aura would sneak through the Dome and find all the secret tunnels, no matter how hard they searched, they couldn’t find another way past this door. The only ones allowed to enter were those in their final year of Teachings. They’d always discussed going through this door together.

  Gossamer shuffled with his keys, but Adie’s eyes caught a quick slide of his hand as he pulled a key from his pocket she’d never seen before. The pale key had a soft glow. Adie gazed around, wondering if anyone else had noticed.