"People often ask me why I spend so much time away from the ocean. If you could explore either a vast wasteland largely devoid of sapient life, or a rich world of storied cultures and forgotten histories, which would you choose?"

—Uru Farlight, Archaeologist, Anthropologist, and Delver of Lost Histories

I chose a moonflower to stare at while I thought about what Phaeliisthia said. The book is in a human language! What can this mean?

Phaeliisthia didn’t seem to be interested in giving me any more information about the tome. She calmly set it on the bench next to her and folded her hands in her lap before leaning back, her eyes closed. “I will teach you to read it soon enough, but you mustn’t slacken your practice. The magic in the glade today will be at its strongest—perhaps you might explore further than ever before.”

I wasn’t ready to practice magic! There was a tome with answers right there! And it didn’t even look monstrously thick like half of the ones in Phaeliisthia’s library. “Can you at least tell me what sort of tome it is?”

“A journal,” my instructor answered without opening her eyes. “One penned by a most interesting author.”

“And you won’t tell me anything more.”

“That is correct.”

I grit my teeth, feeling my loose fang slipping down as I fought back a hiss.

“Channel your frustration into the potency of your magic, Issa, or relax and let it go. Your condition may be urgent, but you are not yet in the curse’s full grasp, and I daresay you are safer here with me than anywhere else in the world.” Phaeliisthia slouched forward, cracking her white eyes open to drink in the beauty of the cavern.

No way was I gonna let my anger go! I almost tore at the shadows, but a pale moth alighting on a flower in a puff of golden pollen stayed my hand. The curse would destroy such beauty, not me.

Still, I couldn’t exactly calm myself, and when I found the shadow I wanted to manipulate, a larger, more uneven tendril was formed. These days, I could do more than tendrils safely, but they were my comfort: practical, simple, and wonderful for unnerving Ssiina—which was always fun.

For hours, I moved and twisted and manipulated the shadows of the cavern. True to Phaeliisthia’s word, the ambient magic of the place strengthened my abilities. I hardly noticed at first, but the cavern seemed more… receptive than it had been. Does magic have personality, or am I simply used to this place?

I certainly did feel more comfortable, as frustration melted into focus. A moth floated lazily upward alighting on a thick pad of soft moss covering a ledge in the upper reaches of the cavern. The single moonflower tree there had bent around almost like a coiling body and blue light dappled a snug-looking space in mild warmth.

Tired as I was, I wanted that space. I wanted to be cozy, and to lie in something soft. As if by response, I felt a familiar twist of my magic, one that I had not given into since my first day at the estate months ago.

I almost shoved it away, but the power, and my lingering frustration—hss, focus—gave me courage. Reaching for it, focusing my will, I wrenched control of the spell. For a sickening moment, cold washed over my body, and I felt a pressure bearing down on me as if crushing me under its body.

And then I was in a different place: a warm, snug space with a frantic moth, its wings flinging powder as it scurried back into the air. From up on the ledge, I sunk my hands into soft moss and peered down at Phaeliisthia.

She stood in front of the bench, arms raised and her gaze squarely on me. Her sharp features softened when I waved back to her.

“Issa,” her voice carried despite her whisper, “please come down from there.”

I blinked at her. “But it’s warm. And cozy.”

“And you are crushing the moss.”

Oops. I looked at the way down, or lack thereof. A nearly sheer drop was all that awaited me. Still, I felt I had more than enough power. “Give me a moment!” I closed my eyes and focused again, pulling on my magic, my curse.

This time, when I felt the shadows coalescing around me twisting, the presence lunged. I screamed into a void of blackness as I felt myself getting pulled into the world between. Air rushed from my lungs and my hearts beat a staccato rhythm. Deep in the blackness, something shifted.

Something out there, that I had only ever caught the attention of once, turned its proverbial gaze onto me and I froze. Unimaginable in scope, unbearable in age, I looked into darkness and found—

A single, pale blue moth alighted on my nose. Small, dark grey eyes looked into my own and I felt the immense pressure halt as if slithering straight into a wall.

“She is ever so reckless,” a faint, achingly sad voice echoed. Distant laughter faded around me as hundreds of moths swept me into a torrent of powder and lunar blue.

The presence faded away and with another lurch, much smoother than I had ever felt, I collapsed back onto the smooth stones of the ____ by the cavern’s central pool. Immediately, Phaeliisthia pulled me upright. Her hands burned with magic and her white eyes stared into mine.

She cast a sigil, and the burning intensified briefly before fading into warmth. I shivered, as though I had just come in from the cold. “What?” I hissed, my throat dry.

“I…” Phaeliisthia’s musical voice trailed off, and in an incredibly rare moment, the serpent dragon seemed to be at a loss for words. She crouched next to me, hands on my shoulders, as she looked off into the blue-lit forest of massive white blooms. “…Thank you.” was all she said, and I watched a few tears fall from her eyes before she dried them.

“What happened?” I asked again, still in a daze.

“Something incredible. Something I did not deserve,” Phaeliisthia’s answer was quiet, her voice uncharacteristically timid. “Let us rest for a moment. You have practiced more than enough today, and I fear I have pushed you too far.”

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My eyes widened.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Phaeliisthia laughed hollowly. “This is not the first time I have admitted to… overzealousness. The sun is ever eager and all that.”

She sounds… younger.

Perhaps realizing her breach in decorum, my tutor cleared her throat and stood. “When we have both caught out breath, I shall begin to teach you Human Imperial. However, we shall do it in the library, where you can ruin as much precious ink and as many pieces of parchment as your heart desires.”

Still fighting fatigue, at the mention of learning the language, I nodded eagerly. And after what felt to me like far more time than “a moment,” Phaeliisthia finally stirred, and with a last, longing look around the cavern, took us away back toward her manor.

The walk through the garden was somber, and the clouds overhead promised more rain for the already-sodden island. When we returned to the manor, Phaeliisthia dried us with a spell, and we coiled and sat down in the library. Zinniz brought us a few rather new-looking scrolls, some parchment, and a quill and ink.

I’d asked Phaeliisthia about using a feather rather than a fang for the tip. She’d chuckled and told me that it was not only easier to make, but feathers were certainly plentiful in Uzh. My tutor hadn’t seemed to care about losing the symbolism to Jaezotl. I didn’t have any experience writing any other way besides with pens made from feathers, but I still thought it odd.

By the yellow glow of what I had learned was a stone Phaeliisthia had enchanted with the sun’s light, the serpent dragon began to teach me the human language.

“So wait, what does that glyph mean?” I pointed to another simple glyph.

“It is called a letter, Issa, and it makes a sound.”

I hissed in annoyance. “So it means nothing? This makes no sense!”

Phaeliisthia laughed, dangerously close to a giggle. “It will make sense soon enough, dear. The combination of letters and their sounds form words and those words have meanings”

“Why not just use a glyph that has a meaning! Does this entire tome say a single thought?” I hissed in annoyance.

The serpent dragon continued to titter. “Issa, dear, look again at the letters you have… actually drawn rather well. Hmph—I am pleased that my teaching seems to be making progress.”

“It really is!” My head jerked up when I realized what I’d said. “Hssss. Can you pretend I said something snarky instead?”

“No.”

I stuck my tongue out at Phaeliisthia.

“Issa. Do not forget your place.”

“Y-yesss, tutor Phaeliisthia.”

“Good. Now, let’s try that again. Do you see the letters you have written?”

“I nodded.”

“Good. That is all of them. Well, aside from their numerals, which we’ll cover another day.”

I looked down at the single sheet of parchment and scrunched my brow. “How could that be all of them? How could they possible say anything?”

“Issa… think before you speak.”

Letters that make sounds make words that make meaning but words don’t merge with other words like glyphs do in Lamian. “So… do they just have a lot of words?”

Phaeliisthia nodded smugly.

I clenched the fist not holding the quill. “Then that’s just as bad!”

“Not quite. Take, for example…” Phaeliisthia swiped the quill from my hand faster than I could react and neatly penned a word in front of me. “Read that.”

“But I don’t know what it means?”

Phaeliisthia rolled her eyes. “Issa, please. Think. Do not arbitrarily regress—I do not need a source of stress like that.”

As if to prove her point, I tried to read the word. The letters weren’t all familiar, but I got part of the sounds and managed to get the reading right in only two tries. “Uru Fa-farlight. What does that mean?”

“It’s a name,” Phaeliisthia replied. “The author, in fact.”

I rolled the name around on my tongue. It felt strange in my mind—no glyph to attach to it. “Uru Farlight. Who are they?”

“Someone who may have answers. And, more importantly, someone who is still seeking them.” Phaeliisthia sighed, and glanced toward the door. “I’m afraid we will need more than this book.”

“But you said I might find answers in it!”

“And you might still,” Phaeliisthia turned back to me with a sharp, sad smile. “But I know now that your curse is… progressing. Today was an important lesson for me too.”

“But… can’t you or Kyrae or maybe even Ssiina help me push it back?”

“That’s not the problem. Have you ever gotten the attention of the one who cursed you so easily as today?”

“Well, no, but I’m doing something different. Wait… don’t tell me I can’t ever use my powers again?”

Phaeliisthia shook her head. “Not quite. Simply put, I believe that the presence… remembers you for lack of a better word. I do not know that it is entirely conscious, whatever it is, but I believe you live yet only because it does not pay you any mind—like you wouldn’t a gnat underfoot. Or tail.”

Sudden panic gripped my hearts. “Then… could I just suddenly…”

“I do not know. I do not think so, at least not soon. But if you bottle your powers up and have another issue like when you first arrived here, there is a chance that not even I could save you.”

My gut clenched, and I suddenly felt the mass of shadows in the room acutely, their cold weight pressing down all around us. “So… am I just… Do I have any hope?”

Phaeliisthia conjured an arc of light across the room, burning the shadows away until the entire library was bathed in golden light. “You do indeed. Whatever this is, I doubt it is quite a god. And anything that is not a god will not be untouchable. And while I do not know the origin of the idol, I do know of a place where records I do not personally have are kept. Particularly where religious records are kept.

“Aside from perhaps the lost locations detailed in this journal, if there is anywhere in the whole of Jii’Kalaga, perhaps the whole of the world, that could give us an answer or a clue, it would be Hesuzhaa Jii’ssiisseniir, the Spring of All Life.”

“The Spring of All Life? Can’t you go there and ask?”

Phaeliisthia shook her head. “I exist outside the Temple, and as such, to trespass on their most holy of lands would have grave consequences. I am tolerated in Uzh because of many reasons I will not discuss, although my faith in Jaezotl is one of them.”

“What about Ussyri Noksi? Or Sire Tyaniis?”

Phaeliisthia shook her head. “While Nok-Nok may be able to gain access, she would be scrutinized, and not only would you and your sisters be found out, your curse would be too.”

“But wouldn’t that apply to anyone?”

“Anyone who was there to visit the archives would, among which only ussyri or higher among the ssyri’ssen have the privilege.”

The pieces fell into place in my mind. “You… someone will need to sneak in?”

Phaeliisthia’s smile seemingly doubled in size. “Indeed. Someone who is a budding polyglot, with magic that can let them avoid detection and move through barriers, magical or no. Someone with close allies to watch her back and a wonderful tutor to ensure she has all the proper training.”

I blinked like a gecko at the serpent dragon. “You… me?”

My tutor reached out and flicked the tip of my nose with one golden talon. “Yes, you. And to be clear, we are simply seeking information in secret. Any way you are able to achieve this, even potentially under legitimate means, is acceptable. We are also not seeking to harm the archives—do not risk so.”

“But… how will I get in?”

“Why, my student, you will get in as a student. Children of ussen and hssen often go there as a sign of unity between Temple and Jii’Hssen. I am more than certain Tyaniis can either formalize your adoption or work with me to send you there under the guise of ussen.”

“But… aren’t we studying under you, Tutor Phaeliisthia?”

Phaeliisthia’s white eyes fell. “Indeed. And I had hoped to have you for longer. To be clear—I do not plan to act on this for at least another year. I do not believe that, with careful practice, you are in too great of danger yet, nor will you be in the next year. I merely wish to prevent disaster in a decade or three. Your sire will be visiting at the end of the rainy season. We will discuss things further then.”

I furrowed my brow. “Can… can I tell my sisters?”

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to keep such a secret. Please do. Conspire together, even, but you all must keep this a secret from anyone else. Your life—all of your lives—may depend on it.”

I shuddered. “What about the journal?”

“Hints. And perhaps a list of places to look if Hesuzhaa Jii’ssiisseniir proves fruitless, or proves a second source pointing in a direction. Are you okay to resume learning your Human Imperial letters? There is still time before either of us must retire for the evening.”

For a moment, I closed my eyes in thought. This seemed crazy, but… a familiar kind of crazy. Like something I and Kyrae would come up with. And if it kept me from dying…

Eventually, I nodded. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”