Makia

To what do you compare me to?

* * * * * * * *

“The next prayer will enter now, Your Graces.”

“Please make haste and welcome her forward.”

A young woman with a mousy face and wings resembling those of an enlarged dragonfly fluttered her way toward the table with the five. Her luscious chartreuse and ivory hair flowed behind her shoulders. Velvet purple eyes looked up as she kneeled down to a cushion seat among them, her head low.

“Your Grace.”

“Makia,” Anya welcomed. “You have traveled far from your own home, and from your own brother.”

“Yes,” Makia nodded quickly. “From the Feasting Forest. I seek help from Your Graces.” She looked up to meet Anya’s silver eyes. “Help me understand my brother.”

A soft smile. “You understand him as you always have, Makia. He has not become someone else.”

“Anya, I used to converse with him well,” Makia pressed, leaning into the table with urgency. “Everything has changed. I don’t know what is on his mind. He cannot speak… there are days when he cannot find ways to get out of bed. I need help. He needs help. I beg Your Graces.”

The five watched Makia search each of their eyes for an answer, one by one. After a moment, Anya responded. “Very well. Consider then, Makia, to study in our Academy.”

Makia was taken aback by the response.

The Ashenborn Academy.

It was such an honor, yet at the same time… seemingly irrelevant?

“Your Graces,” Makia tried to answer with a careful choice of words. “Your Academy is indeed a knowledge center of the greatest prestige in all of Aideyll… but, I fail to see why I should become a scholar at such a time as this.”

“Do you recall the Vermilion?” Adrion asked, this time.

Makia blinked. “There is not a Aideyllian that does not know of the Vermilion. It was a plague that took the lives of half the world shortly after Aideyll was formed.”

“Twenty-two years after,” Adrion specified. “More than three hundred thousand souls over four hundred million left this world over a score of years. A peculiar airborne virus. It came to an end when my disciple found my cure and passed it on to all residing on both sides of the Aideyllian border.”

Makia nodded in agreement. She knew all of this. Everyone that grew up in Aideyll had to learn of these things, but she was still confused as to where this was going.

“The end of the Vermilion was marked with the opening of the Academy.” Adrion gestured over toward Anya and Aiana. “I agreed with my sisters to allow a cure for any and all illnesses so that the world could find an answer to any disease. The answers to all these problems—those that have passed, those that occur presently, those that are yet to come, and those that have lost their opportunity to exist—are rooted in the soils of the earth and grow every day, in every part of Aideyll.”

“So there is an answer for my brother!” Makia’s wings fluttered with her hope, lifting her a bit off her seat before she came back down. “Please tell me where I may find such a plant!”

“Accept your invitation, and you will find the answers on your own.”

“Find the answers… but, Adrion… my brother! What am I to do if I cannot come across the answer in time? It would have been all for naught.”

“Hold a moment,” Ayren interjected, “I know you are impatient in this moment, but that is quite the selfish thought to have.”

“What?” Makia said, and followed up immediately with, “I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”

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“Let us say you did find the cure for your brother,” Ayren said, leaning forward in his seat. “Would you withhold it from others who are in the same condition as him?”

“Of course not! For what motive?”

“Perfect answer!” Ayren said happily, raising hands into the air. “You are an intelligent forest sprite, I can see it in your eyes that you understand me.”

“But… but what of my brother? I cannot possibly leave him,” she turned to Anya. “I have not the heart.”

“We understand, Makia,” Anya replied, voice so soothing Ilisandir felt his heart change pace as he stood watch at the door. “Your brother was the first baby you ever held in your hands. You have watched him alongside your parents; you have seen him grow as you grew; you have watched him fumble, both physically and in life; you especially enjoyed spending your days partaking in his pranks on others passing through the forest—some, more dangerous than others. There is not one, but two chambers in your heart for him, for he is both your closest family and your best friend.

“Let your brother be your strongest motivation: that is the most loving suggestion I may offer you. And as you support him through his current troubles, let him stay strong enough in your heart to be the support you need should you continue to our Academy. Know that your hopes and dreams are small, compared to all that we have to offer you.”

“Is there no way for me to just know of the location of the cure?” Makia tried again. “Is there no easier way Your Graces may grant me? I would have to wait until after the winter to join the Academy in the spring of the new year; that already, is four months away! On top of that, it would take three years to graduate,” her eyes moved around frantically, thinking about all the years that would pass. “And on top of that yet again, I would have to continue to look for the cure if I did not find it in my years at the Academy. Your Graces!” Her wings drooped down to the marble as she bowed before the table. “Please.”

Adrion brought up a hand before Ayren could speak.

“Your brother’s cure requires a specific magical compound that is found only in the root of a certain subclass of plants that reside outside of Essensia, all of which have the magical structure in their physiology to foster the growth of cells.”

Makia lifted her gaze.

“There are variations of regeneration energy. You must know how to dictate the talent from the plant to foster only neurogenesis in the specified area of the brain, at a pace to where there are no side effects that may occur in his body. You must be fluent in energy transliteration, for if the procedure is not done correctly, your brother may be subjected to rebound effects, as the neurogenesis can be misdirected.

“In the event of misdirection, the most common occurrence is exponential neural decay due to overstimulation of neural growth, and the natural cells in the body not originally equip to handle the input will respond with a reverse effect and be catalyzed to stop its neurotransmitters and ultimately shut down.

“In your brother’s case, there are four specific areas in the brain in which he requires neural recovery. You must understand where these reside and how these neurons are interlaced. He has also lost portions of his memory, and to regain those in the proper manner, you must understand the cognitive aspects of neurology.”

“Adrion, Your Grace…”

“This is the useless answer you desire. What I speak of is the foundation for your first lectures in the Academy. I implore you to realize: even if I were to tell you the name of the plant root that would produce the optimal effect, you do not have the means to achieve the cure without more knowledge. Surely, you are not expecting your brother’s cure to be readily made and handed to you.”

Makia caught her breath. “No, of course not, Your Grace.”

That much was true, though she was now left wondering what her expectations had been when she stepped in for prayer.

“Here’s an offer,” Ayren quipped in once more.

Makia turned her attention to him, and she saw his silver eyes glisten as he spoke.

“We have friends at Essensia,” he laughed at himself as he said those words, “of course we do! We are the Ashenborn… In any life, let us help you make the proper accommodations. Go home and pack up your brother, along with any other necessities you may have. You may live with him in Essensia and watch over him starting as early as tomorrow. Until your years in the Academy start, feel free to explore our libraries and get ahead on your studies. You will still have to take the entrance examination, of course, but my sister believes you will pass with flying colors! Pun may have been intended.” He smiled.

“… I do not know how to respond.”

“It is your decision to make,” Anya said. “Keep to heart that we will be here for both you and your brother. He still lives, Makia.”

“Only those with a strong heart are accepted in our Academy.” Ayren decided to add.

Makia blinked, not quite understanding the point of that statement, but Ayren had said no more after that. She wondered if she should ask for clarification, but the thought seemed to drag on for far too long, and a silence had crept between them that made Makia unwilling to keep pushing. She turned to Adrion. “… About the libraries to get ahead—”

“Adrion will give you a list when you make your decision,” Ayren winked.

Adrion only smiled at Makia.

“I—alright,” Makia nodded. She bowed and stood up from the table. “Thank you, Your Graces.”

“Until next time,” Aiana sung in a soft tune.

Makia nodded. And then she left.

Adrion turned to Ayren. “Your last statement affected the future. You know that.”

“If Austyr has no problem with it, it is good.”

Adrion faced forward in his seat. With this pause, Ilisandir took it as a hint to step forward.

“The next prayer will enter now, Your Graces.”

“Please make haste and welcome them forward.”