33. Soren

Chapter thirty-three

Soren

T he clearing where the rite is to be held isn't far from our property. Little did I know the claim couldn't be held on land owned by any person or family. It has to be free of contracts or exchanges.

Even though most don't have magic, there is magic bound to contracts and agreements, especially over land. A notion that never occurred to me. We've housed our plot for centuries. So, I imagine quite a bit of power is bound to our land.

Mari and I walk hand-in-hand. The clearing dances with colors of all kinds, breaking through the branches. They bounce off the pine needles, making the trees look like iridescent beings dancing and sparkling in the bright, clear night.

It's my first time seeing the stars in nearly two weeks.

I squeeze Mari's hand a little tighter at the realization. But then again, there is no weather holding us back anymore. I shouldn't let a clear sky spark panic in my heart. Unfortunately, anything related to Mari leaving does.

Even the sight of her friend and the Vaki, as welcome as they are, makes my jaw clench tightly, the pressure intensifying with each desperate thought that swirls in my mind. I think that once this is over, Mari will leave, and some circumstances beyond our control will have her go without me. It's irrational.

Four sprites hover in the glen, where a ring of brown mushrooms guards the entrance to the claiming. Blue, green, pink, and red represent water, forest, fire, and flowers. As a child, I always scoffed at the idea of a flower sprite. It seems the least important. I didn't understand then that there are no crops, bees, or butterflies without flowers. No pollination. And to a very young Soren, that meant no sugar. Ever since, I've had the utmost respect for flower sprites.

A fae female with obsidian skin and glowing amber eyes is also in the circle. And to my surprise, one of the elders. But that really isn't a shock. They can wield a massive amount of power.

So, four sprites, a fae, and a wizard. Sounds like the beginning of a joke. But from the electricity buzzing in the air, it's anything but.

Arrick and Yera stand in the middle, surrounded by the creatures. He embraces her tightly before completely exiting the circle. Joining Mari and myself.A respectful distance from the range of magic.

"Why aren't you with her?" Mari asks under her breath, indicating her growing concern.

"I can't influence any decisions made. The land has to claim her willingly. I'm linked to it closely."

"But it's my land claiming her, so why does it matter?" she asks again, tension rising as we watch the six close in on Yera, chanting in a language I don't understand.

"The fae female, Lola, is both human and fae. She is the conduit for both worlds. The bridge we needed to make the connection. My powers could interrupt that bridge," Arrick says, his eyes going intense at the sight unfolding before him.

Mari still doesn't look convinced, but she lets Arrick continue.

"The wizard and the sprites generate enough power to reach the other side."

Just as the words slip into the night air, catching on a light breeze, the creatures go in tighter. The light surrounding the sprites expands, wrapping everyone in the circle in a kaleidoscope of shifting colors.

Drumming starts; I'll never know whether it's the pounding of all our hearts or the land's life force meeting the call.

The sprite's color glows brighter, coating the forest in fluorescent tendrils that stick to the leaves and branches like pollen.

Like they have always been that way.

The chanting grows, quickening in pace. The fae's arm alights with bright blue symbols.

The markings of the Vaki.

The wizard is next, all of his exposed skin blazing with fire-red runes.

I look over at Mari. Her eyes are fixed on her friend, who stands still as death as the words and light wash over her.

Right then, as if the ideal spell has been chanted simultaneously at the precise moment, the light seeps out from each being. Each sprite drains their iridescence, letting their magic flow in a swirling path to Yera's feet.

The magic doesn't hesitate. It coats her skin, transforming her golden hue into vibrant patches that appear to dance across her body like a celestial beacon. So bright, there is no doubt it can't be seen in the sky, even in Mari's world. The calling and the claiming.

The patches of light focus, cutting bright runes into her flesh. Runes that bore in the darkness, lighting a blaze brighter than the sun. Like she's not of this world or that one, a bright existence of pure light.

I feel Mari move, and Arrick too, as Yera's form sags. The sheer magnitude of the power given to her physical form overwhelms her.

I'm surprised to see the Vaki falter. His evident love for Yera overtakes his reason for the ritual.

I hold both my arms out, stopping Mari and Arrick.

"No, can't you feel it? It worked. Look at her,"I say, nodding my head back in the direction of the claiming.

Mari's eyes go wide. Now slumped on the ground, Yera drains off the luminescence. The magic bleeds back into the earth and sky, leaving deep black marks etched into her skin that smoke like they were burned into place.

The sprite's natural glow returns and the runes that were lit on the skin of the wizard vanish.

Lola, whose amber eyes resume their unnatural glow, turns to us and tilts her head. "It is done. You can go to her now." Arrick and Mari break, running to Yera heaped over a patch of electric pink yarrow.

I watch them kneeling on the ground beside Yera. The other creatures scatter, and the sprites vanish into the night like vibrant streaks of lightning. The wizard, staff in hand, navigates through the thicket to the pounded clay path. An old, feeble creature to the untrained eye, one would never know he contained multitudes of magic.

Lola watches the group stalled in the wildflowers momentarily before heading toward me, a curious look on her face .

She wafts up to me, calm as a breeze. "I was made conduit if the human desires to go home," she says, looking over at Mari, stroking strands of curly hair off Yera's face. "You can go too, ogre. If you wish."

"How do you know? What just happened in the circle?" I ask with the unmistakable feeling that something more was done. I can't grasp what it might have been.

"I do not know," she says, eyes still locked on the group huddled in the grass. "I was given the power because something is not right. There may come a time when we need a bridge to their world. And the spirits granted me that privilege."

"Do you know if the others were granted any additional powers?" I ask.

"I do not. I suppose time will tell." She gives me a look that makes my skin go cold and clammy before she disappears into the night.

In the absence of the sprites, the night goes dark again, only lit by the stars and the moon, which hangs heavy in the sky. I walk over and kneel next to Mari, who is attempting to coax Yera out of whatever dreamless sleep she has fallen into.

"How long were you asleep after you were claimed, Arrick?" I ask.

He thinks for a moment, looking disappointed. "I don't know. I woke up, and it was day. So, at best, it was a few hours and, at worst, a few days."

"Right, well, let's get her back to the house; if she's going to be asleep for days, it may as well be in a feather bed." Arrick takes my cue, picking Yera up and cradling her in his arms, her black markings still sizzling on her skin.