There was no defining what I felt as I processed the intent and implications of the triplicate sigil. It was all so much that it sort of canceled itself out, and I lapsed into a state of cold, buzzing blankness.
She asked for me.
She…she erased herself.
Even as I’d been clinging to my sigil back on earth, reaching out for another world…she had crafted hers and called out for me. There was an uncanny symmetry to it, the kind that you almost only ever got in stories and tv. For all I knew, my own sigil hadn’t worked at all, and it had been by her power alone that I was transported. Given that I’d never had any proof that magic worked back in my reality and it absolutely did here, that actually seemed most likely.
Zia, the original Zia, had saved me.
And she was gone.
I turned the page. It was blank. As was the one after that, and the rest of the journal.
The cold barrier surrounding my emotions began to melt. A few tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold them back. One dropped onto the blank page of the journal laying open in my lap, spreading as it sank into the pulp.
I was heartbroken for Zia, my other self. And I was also relieved. I would not have to go through this life feeling like a parasite, squatting in someone else’s body, depriving her of existence.
No. I was a summoned hero. Perhaps not in the most traditional sense, but close enough. Perhaps I couldn’t bring the other Zia back, and probably she wouldn’t want me to. But this work of hers, if it turned out to be worthwhile and good, if it made sense to me…I would finish it. I would do that for her, and for me. I would prove myself worthy of this life I’d been given, and redeem the one who'd given it.
But first, I had to read that green journal.
Setting the first one down beside the moss bed, I launched myself at the trunk, dug past the clothes and through the books beneath until I found the one I was looking for. Not even bothering to return to the bed, I sat with my back against the wall and began to read.
Day 15, Opal Moon, 1235
Tonight went about as I expected. We all met up on the rooftop, drank some stuff we probably shouldn’t have, and talked until dawn. Seri’s excited for her year with Soltras. I’ve been trying to feel the same about fostering in Odros, but I can’t say I’ve had much success. Still, the place is known to be lousy with Sapphires, and the libraries are said to be fantastic. So there’s that.
I wish I’d have had time to finish my mural before leaving, but at least there’s the comfort of knowing that by the time I’m able to complete it, I’ll be more skilled than I am now. Ultimately, the work will be better for my having been away.
I need to finish packing.
There were sigils interlocked on the opposing page that, all together, almost resembled a map with a compass rose at its heart.
Safe travels. Keen wayfinding. Good luck.
I turned the page.
Day 16, Opal Moon, 1235
I’ve arrived. It’s very dark…they say the cloud cover is almost always this heavy, and the lightning storms are near-constant. I have to admit, it’s beautiful. The architecture is brilliant as well, designed and built to impress. Well, it works. Unfortunately the hot springs stink, something they’re all so used to here that they’re barely even aware of it. Luckily the rain keeps the scent from spreading.
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There’s a clutch that’s my age in my foster home. The skyborn ones are a bit stand-offish and territorial, but thankfully only two of them are currently living here. The deepborn ones, especially Erek—whom I’ve known since he fostered in our clan years ago—are pretty welcoming.
It’s really not so bad, and I’m beginning to feel kind of ridiculous for being so nervous about it. Now that I’m getting past that, I’m excited to explore this place.
The opposing page was packed with drawings of what I assumed was the architecture that had so impressed her. It impressed me, too. The buildings seemed to bloom from the mountains and cliffsides like massive stone petals, while ornate spires towered above all—catching the ever-present lightning.
I almost smiled as I read the following entries. It was nice to read about Zia enjoying herself, bonding with her foster siblings, making friends, and exploring a new region. But it was a bittersweet sort of pleasure. An entire moon passed before Zia mentioned her sister in any capacity other than that she missed her, or wished she’d been there for this or that experience. But when she finally did speak of her again, the scratchy, nearly-illegible handwriting resurfaced.
Day 1, Onyx Moon, 1236
Seri called on me today. She barely even bothered to wish me a fortunate new year. In fact, she only remembered it after I mentioned it. What she really wanted was to ask if I would be willing to make an experimental custom sigil for her during my visit next week for the Trine. When I told her it depended upon the intent, she refused to elaborate. We agreed to discuss it in person when I arrived, and then her stone ran out of mana. I think.
The entries on the next few pages were sparse. Instead, they were dominated by labeled drawings of the region’s flora and fauna, including a creature that resembled a winged salamander with bunny ears. Apparently, she had tried to tame it and received a nasty bite for her efforts. But it wasn’t long before her sister came up again.
This time, her hand was more composed, dissolving only occasionally into spiky edges and slanting rows.
Day 9, Onyx Moon, 1236
Seri’s never been one to ask much of me. She’s always given more of herself than she’s expected of others. But she’s also always been a little obsessed with the Unseen Isle. A lot of people are. I’m fascinated by it, too…but also terrified. Maybe I’m a coward, maybe it’s just common sense. But I don’t think she understands that, just because an elder or two’s declared me a prodigy—just because I might even be dragonbound, in my own way—that doesn’t mean I can do literally anything. Depths, I don’t even know if one of my sigils is going to work until an Opal activates it. I can’t see past the most powerful wards ever devised in all of known history.
And I don’t want to.
Dragonbound? Me?
I’d assumed the term referenced kobolds like Keshry, who’d had powers before their first Gem. But that certainly didn’t seem like it had been the case with me. Setting the question aside for later, I read on. The art and sigils became sparse, and days went by where Zia neither wrote nor drew anything in the journal at all. And then there it was again, the name I was constantly scanning for.
Day 11, Onyx Moon, 1236
Seri won’t stop pushing, and I’m starting to think there’s a great deal more to this than mere curiosity. I keep telling her no, going over why exactly I simply can’t do it, why I wouldn’t even if I could. But she keeps needling at me, trying to convince me. It’s ruining the whole visit, honestly. I wish she’d just give it a rest.
Day 12, Onyx Moon, 1236
I sort of blew up at Seri today. Told her if she’s that desperate to see past the Rend, to pay someone else to try to make the sigil for her. Said I’d even help fund it, if it’d get her to shut up about it. Tossed all the Gem chips in my bag at her feet.
It was dramatic and ridiculous. But it hurts that all she cares about in having me here is what I can do for her. She’s my closest sibling. The main reason I wasn’t excited about Odros was because it meant being away from her. But she doesn’t seem to care about that at all. I want to blame that clutch of skyborn she’s gotten in with, but if she’s changed, it’s because she’s either chosen to or she simply let it happen.
The next few entries had nothing to do with Seri, and it almost seemed as though Zia had moved on and that her sister had finally decided to leave her alone. I was wrong.
Day 15, Onyx Moon, 1236
I love my sister. I always will. But I cannot stand the person she is now. Can’t fathom how quickly she’s changed. I’ve heard of the power some skyborn can have over us, but this is ridiculous. I miss the old her. So, so much. Strangely, I think I will miss her less when I return to Odros tomorrow. I will have the memory of Seri as she used to be for company, without the intrusion of the person she’s become.
She tried to pay me for the sigil, offered me back ten times the chips I’d tossed at her. I didn’t have to ask where she’d got that kind of money.
In any case, I refused. Of course. She went off on me about how I wouldn’t deign to help her the one time she most needed it, the one and only time she’d ever begged for anything. Then she called me a disgrace of a clutch-sister and stormed away. While I do hold her accountable for her own actions, it’s clear to me now that those pompous spread-wings are using her. And I’m going to find out why.