The Halves of Us Read online

  But there was nothing.

  Her gaze fell back to her father as he cleared his throat.

  Nemiah shook his head. “Wearing the uniform again, I see.”

  “I think blue’s a good color on me.” Aura looked at the jumpsuit uniform.

  “Aura, it’s the first day of your final year, shouldn’t you be—”

  “Attending class? Mingling?” She smiled and shrugged.

  Her father’s shoulders fell as he sighed. His brown eyes met hers as he scratched the gray hair coming in at this temples. She returned her sword to the weapon’s casing and walked to a nearby table. Nemiah silently followed, sitting on one of the sturdy wooden chairs near her.

  “Your mother was worried after the projection of the Sight and—”

  “We visited the Room of Papers this morning,” Aura said, changing the subject.

  She shivered as chills crept up the back of her neck. Those red eyes. She wiped her sweaty palms on the leg of her uniform and felt the corners of the folded Fate paper in her pocket. Aura closed her eyes and didn’t know which was worse—the image of the Sight or the image on her paper.

  She watched her father’s expression. His eyes saddened, but his face stayed strong.

  “I know we’re not supposed to speak of what we saw on our paper unless it directly involves someone and we find it necessary to tell them—”

  “Aura . . .”

  “Father, please. I don’t know what to make of my Fate. I believe it’s not—”

  “Aura, does your Fate directly involve me?”

  She stopped and eyed her father closely. He kept her gaze. “I don’t know.” Her eyes faltered.

  “Does it involve Adie or your mother?”

  Aura recalled the image she found on her paper. “If you would just let me explain—”

  “Aura, if it’s necessary for you to tell me of your Fate because it includes me, please do so. Otherwise, I can’t help you.” His voice grew deep.

  She closed her eyes to keep tears of frustration from falling down her cheeks.

  Nemiah sighed. “I’m sorry. I know visiting the Room of Papers is overwhelming, but we need to be reminded that this is Fate telling us—”

  “Where we are meant to be.” Aura finished his sentence and ignored the chill that had returned. “I know. I know. I’ve heard that enough,” she said, standing and returning to the weapon casing.

  Nemiah followed her and retrieved the sword next to hers. He held it up and studied the intricacy of the design. “This weapon is a strong one. It serves a purpose. But only in the right hands can it achieve its full potential.”

  Aura stepped back, light on her feet, and pointed her sword at her father. His words slipped past her. She did her best to push the Sight’s voice to the back of her mind and forced a smile as he matched her sword. With a swoop of her wrist, she brought her sword around and heard the clash of it meeting his. She stepped back as he followed her, holding his weapon out steadily.

  “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

  “I think it’s time for me to officially beat you, old man.”

  “Old man?” he said, carefully stepping forward, turning over his right shoulder.

  Their swords met again at her side. “You forget I was taught by the best. I know all your tricks!”

  Their swords danced in the air. Left, right, and repeating. He matched her footwork and gracefully moved his blade in time with hers. Nemiah angled himself so he wouldn’t end up against the wall, and she turned carefully to keep up with him.

  “Can I not change my Fate?” The words that earlier danced on her tongue, escaped with a ferocity that scared her.

  “What?” Nemiah asked as he plunged his sword toward Aura.

  She met his blow and pushed forward. Her father, almost losing his balance, stepped back to regain it. Their blades continued to push against each other as Aura looked directly into her father’s eyes.

  “My Fate. What if I don’t like what I’ve found? What if I want to change my Fate?”

  Nemiah pushed her away with a thrust of his sword. “Aura, your Fate has been predestined. You will meet your Fate, regardless of what attempt you make to change it.”

  “Father, I—”

  He stepped forward, and with a smooth turn, brought his sword around to her. She quickly lifted her weapon to meet his and struggled to match his strength.

  “If you’re going to tell me what you saw on your paper—”

  Catching him mid-sentence, Aura pushed with all her strength, forcing Nemiah away from her. I refuse to be stuck with this Fate! She spun and met his blade with such force it fell from his hands. Her sword pointed to his chest, and he lifted his hands in defeat. She held her weapon steady at his torso, staring into her father’s eyes, silently pleading for him to listen.

  The fear in his eyes startled her, and she withdrew.

  Sadness etched through the fear, drawing the corners of his mouth into a frown as his shoulders drooped. “Well, you’ve beaten me. And this time I didn’t let you.” He chuckled and walked back over to the case to return his sword.

  “Father—”

  “Your mother is the only one who knows my Fate,” he said, turning his gaze to Aura.

  “You told her?” she asked, sliding a strand of her crimson hair behind her ear. She walked toward the case and returned her sword, tracing her fingers along the silver blade up to the handle.

  “Yes.” He shifted his gaze back at the weaponry.

  “Did your paper reveal a Fate that included her?”

  Nemiah looked back at Aura and shook his head. “You don’t give up, do you? You’re more like me than you think.” He turned to walk away.

  “Fath—”

  “Yes. It included her.”

  She detected something in his voice that made her question his truth.

  His eyes glistened, and he turned his back toward her. “Aura, whatever you saw, it’s your Fate. This is Fate telling us where we are meant to be.” He seemed burdened as he walked away, as though his feet were heavier.

  Aura turned back toward the weapons case and admired the make of the swords one last time. The sharp silver blades cast light around the room, and the handles, inlaid with jewels, added navy and emerald hues to the shadows. She reached for the sword her father held moments before.

  “Aura?”

  She turned quickly as Samuel entered.

  “Gossamer sent me to find you. He wants you to report to Mr. Duthun’s classroom.”

  Aura took in a deep breath and avoided his gaze.

  “Something about missing your first class. Is everything okay? It’s unlike you to miss class, and after the Sight—”

  “I had to get away after visiting that room,” Aura interrupted, turning her back toward him.

  “The Room of Papers? I was actually looking forward to it.”

  Aura turned, facing him. “You were looking forward to finding out your Fate? Being forced to know how your life will play out and accept it no matter what?”

  “I don’t see it that way.”

  “How do you see it?”

  “The Room of Papers is a gift to us from the Designers.”

  “A gift?” Aura huffed.

  “Yes. I know my purpose. I know where Fate wants me to be.”

  “And where is that?”

  A look of reproach crossed his face. “Aura, you know I can’t —”

  “I know. It’s just . . .” She turned her attention back to the weapon case and traced the detailed handle of a sword. “I don’t know what to make of my Fate. My paper . . . it was unclear to me. I don’t understand it. Do you understand yours?”

  Samuel nodded. “Clear as day.” A grin formed on his face. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where Adie goes for midday break, would you?”

  Her gaze fell back to the swords. “No.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment echoed in his voice. He walked away.

  “Samuel, wait!”

  He turne
d back toward her.

  “Look in the garden toward the back, near the pond. That’s usually where she escapes from Michael. I’ll head to Mr. Duthun’s now.”

  He nodded at Aura, thanking her.

  She watched him walk away and looked around the Training Hall. Why her and not me?

  Her eyes caught the flame of a nearby lantern on the wall flicker as though someone had rushed passed it. Shuddering, she turned away from the flame. The few tables in the room were empty. She was alone. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper, crumpling it in her hand.

  Running down the hallway toward the kitchen, she raced past staff, not caring who she bumped into. As she reached the kitchen, she made her way to the fire pit and opened the creased paper.

  “Dearie, what are you doing in here?” a green-skinned woman asked. “You should be in the eating area.” She walked quickly over to Aura. “And those clothes! Were you training again? Are you hungry?” Concern filled her oval-shaped, yellow eyes.

  Aura grinned at the woman. “Ellender, I’m fine.”

  “You worked too hard in training, I see. Here, have some water and fresh fruit.” Ellender smiled and moved a bowl of bright green slices of fruit and a glass of water toward her.

  The kitchen staff moved around the room in orderly chaos, preparing more food for midday break.

  Aura turned her attention back toward her paper.

  “What do you have there?” Ellender asked quizzically as she stirred a bowl of dough.

  “Just a piece of paper. Nothing important to me,” Aura said, turning toward the fire.

  She tossed the paper into the flames and watched the edges turn black, curling and falling away to ash.

  7

  Aura

  Music from the Announcer’s trumpet echoed through the Dome. Aura walked through the halls, making her way toward Mr. Duthun’s classroom. The image of her Fate paper, crumpled, and the edges darkening as the flames lapped at them burned her eyes. I can change my Fate. She focused on those words as she entered the Teaching Hall, pushing through a few students rushing in the opposite direction.

  A tall Inhira with white hair and radiant pale blue skin stepped in front of Aura.

  “Excuse me,” Aura said and moved to step around them.

  They repositioned themselves in front of Aura, staring at her with large, wide eyes. “Mr. Duthun and Gossamer are expecting you,” they said with a heavenly voice barely above a whisper. They motioned for Aura to follow.

  Aura watched the Inhira walk away. Their off-white cloak trailed behind them. She picked up her pace, attempting to catch up.

  “And you are?”

  “Glorida. I’m to be your study partner.”

  “Study partner?”

  Glorida stopped and faced her. “We chose partners for the Season this morning. And trust me, this is not of my doing. You weren’t there, and well . . . no one chose me.” They paused, taking in a deep breath. “I would prefer to be in my sibling’s place on your sister’s Council. But I guess this will have to do.” They turned on their heels, heading for the classroom.

  Aura reluctantly followed, silently cursing herself. If I’d gone to class, perhaps Samuel could’ve been my partner.

  They slowed as they entered Mr. Duthun’s classroom. He stood at the front with his brow furrowed. His skin was dark blue, and the pointy tips of his ears nearly reached the top of his bald head, which donned a few small, dark moles. His large orange eyes gazed at Aura as she entered.

  Gossamer stood beside him and pressed his lips together as he looked at Aura. “Missed class today, I see?” he huffed.

  “Combat practice,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, Aura,” Mr. Duthun said. “From what your uncle tells me, this is a random occurrence. And after the Vadim projection this morning . . .” He wiggled his nose as if to stifle a sneeze.

  Vow now, sayeth aye. The slithering voice of the Sight echoed in her head. A large notebook fell in her lap, breaking her trance.

  “This is my notebook. You can copy my notes from today, but I need it back first thing in the morning,” Glorida offered.

  Aura frowned.

  “Your uncle has requested I give you a brief synopsis of today’s lesson, and Glorida has been kind enough to share their notes with you,” Mr. Duthun said, nodding. “So you should be prepared for the next lecture.”

  Aura nodded as Gossamer left, silently thanking Mr. Duthun for understanding. She sat at a nearby desk and watched as Glorida effortlessly slid into the desk beside her.

  “You’re staying, too?” Aura asked.

  “Just in case I missed something from before.” They flipped their long, white hair off their shoulder and opened another notebook. Despite Glorida’s tone, Aura couldn’t help but admire their elongated features and high cheekbones. She’d never seen one up close before, even with all her travels throughout Thindoral over the years. The Inhira were a private race and primarily stayed in their own region, unless called by the Ruler or to attend the Requesting Ceremonies. While they didn’t have powers like the Designers, they had their exquisite features.

  “I had each individual go around and introduce themselves,” Mr. Duthun said as Glorida started to stand. He motioned for them to stop. “There’s no need to do that again, Glorida.”

  They slid back into her seat.

  Aura stood. “My name is Aura.”

  Mr. Duthun sighed as she continued.

  “I’m sixteen, and I’m from the Dome here in Giriveen.”

  “That wasn’t necessary. You may sit,” Mr. Duthun huffed. “We briefly spoke about the history of Fate and how tales vary throughout the regions about her origins and Thindoral’s beginning. In this class, you will learn what recorded history has to show. We spoke of the Room of Papers, which you visited earlier today, and how each individual plays an important part in our world. Some will be called to teach. Some to protect by becoming Guards or Tribesmen. Some may even become the most brilliant minds our world has yet seen.”

  Glorida held their head high and smiled as if he spoke of them.

  Aura cringed at the mention of the Room of Papers. That is not my Fate.

  “Vow now, sayeth aye.” The whisper returned.

  She stood abruptly and looked behind her.

  “Aura,” Mr. Duthun said, but his voice escaped her.

  Aura inspected the room as her pulse quickened, waiting to see the red eyes glaring at her.

  “Aura!” Mr. Duthun shouted, catching her attention.

  She turned to face him. “Sorry,” she said, searching her mind for an excuse. “Leg cramp . . .” She stretched before she sat back in her chair. Glorida watched her every movement.

  Mr. Duthun continued. “We lastly discussed heroic Fates, ones we celebrate in our history, including Samuel Wright, the grandfather of one of the students in the class, Samuel. Because of his heroic efforts, we still have the Ruler with us today. It’s a shame he lost his life while trying to defend her, but he knew his Fate and protected our Ruler at all costs. Zakar, the man responsible for his death, was killed shortly thereafter by Gossamer. So we can take comfort in knowing justice was met.”

  Aura’s heart sank, realizing she hadn’t been there for Samuel when his grandfather was mentioned.

  Glorida raised their hand and spoke before Mr. Duthun could call on them. “But the story I was told was that Zakar escaped and fled to Vadim. Since most of the inhabitants of Thindoral choose not to reside in the dark region of Vadim, it was the perfect place for him to hide.” Glorida’s eyes grew wide. “It’s rumored he received his powers from the Wicked Willow, which feeds off greed and jealousy. He stays hidden there, waiting to come and steal the Rokis for its true power. The power to give life and to take it.” Even while speaking of such evil and darkness, Glorida’s voice remained clear and velvety.

  Aura turned and glared at her study partner. How
can something so elegant believe such nonsense? “And you doubt the official records?” she asked. “Zakar is dead. Gossamer killed him after he tried to murder my mother!”

  Aura had never met Zakar but was told how brave both Gossamer and Samuel’s grandfather were in saving Ambrielle when they were younger. They were both celebrated throughout all Thindoral. Samuel always said he hoped he could live up to his grandfather’s name.

  Glorida sneered. “I heard there was proof Zakar is still alive and—”

  “Those are rumors, Glorida. In this classroom, we will only be speaking of truths, as stated in class earlier.” Mr. Duthun eyed Glorida while he walked back to his desk. “Zakar died by the hand of his brother, Gossamer, in the attempted murder of his sister, Ambrielle, the current Ruler of Thindoral. And the true power of the Rokis is far beyond our comprehension.”

  Thoughts raced through Aura’s mind. That was the first and only time she’d seen Gossamer cry when speaking briefly about how he had to take his brother’s life. He couldn’t even tell us the whole story, he was so upset. She shuddered. She had never heard this rumor about Zakar’s escape. The only beings she knew who resided in Vadim were the Sights. The image of the skeletal frame towering over her returned. Aura shook her head trying to erase the memory. What did it want from me? An uneasiness crept through her. And why didn’t Felipe say he heard it, too?

  “Just read over Glorida’s notes and attend the next class.” Mr. Duthun returned to his desk and began shuffling through papers.

  Aura nodded before rising from her seat.

  Glorida turned to her. “Don’t forget, I need those back tomorrow morning.” Glorida quickly departed from the classroom.

  Aura followed and sighed as she shuffled down the hallway. Lunch would soon be over, and her stomach growled. But she ignored it as the day’s events replayed in her mind. The Sight didn’t speak to me. My Fate can be changed. She tried to convince herself, to no avail.

  The sight of Ms. Nevolie sitting alone by one of the back windows in her classroom caused Aura to slow. Ms. Nevolie’s gaze remained transfixed on the Town Square below.

  “Ms. Nevolie?”