Of Memories Sewn to Flesh

How much darkness is needed for white to turn blue?

* * * * * * * *

“I was there when Alea saved Yukina in the marketplace.”

“Who?” Ty turned to Szak with a raised brow.

“Lyly’s aunt,” Szak answered. “That was how I met Alea. She was in the Essensia markets yesterday when the siren fell from the building. She ran like—” Szak thought about how to describe it. The word robotic came to mind first, again. “—like she had been trained and built to… somehow. I ran after her, and when I grabbed her hand, my mind jumped to Ana.”

“Your sister?” Ty said, confused. “What about her?”

“I—everything? Everything. Like I was reliving my life beside her in superspeed.”

Iago narrowed his eyes for a moment before relaxing his face again. No one noticed. So it’s the same.

“But why?” Ty asked. “They look nothing alike.”

“Exactly,” Szak said, pacing again. “Why. That’s what I don’t understand. So,” he turned to Iago. “Did Lyly mention anything about when Alea hugged her.”

“She’s mentioned nothing about that. But…” Iago paused. Considered whether or not it was information that should be shared after what happened earlier.

“But?” Szak demanded.

Iago pressed his lips together this time. Eventually, he uncrossed his arms. “Seph recalls hearing Alea’s voice, before. And with the way Eulylia reacted when she told me, it wasn’t a good recollection. Bringing it up to either of the girls is probably not a great idea.”

“Just her voice?” Ty asked.

“Just the voice,” Iago nodded, then faced Szak. “I wouldn’t bet on Eulylia noticing anything when they were at the hospital. There are too many reasons for her to not have felt anything.”

“What do you mean?” Szak leaned on his desk.

“Alea has a psychic talent. Obviously. So does Eulylia. Talented energy is finicky when they’re of the same wavelength. If the pathway is the same type, they tend to repel each other. It’s why sirens can’t be affected by another siren’s song.”

Szak considered what Iago said. That was the similar effect in Drakonforged weapons. Gem, melted and forged with pure kinetic talent, pure dragon fire, would repel all forces talented and natural because of the kinetic nature of it.

“Both girls were also pretty emotional that day—even if Alea’s touch did bring up a memory, it may have been what Eulylia was thinking about, given what happened. And besides, Alea was also not fully healed; we would have no way to know if her talent pathways were damaged unless we go back to ask a nurse for records.”

No. Szak shook his head. “Her talent pathways must have been fine.” He turned to Iago. “Do you not remember how Alea left that citrine room?”

“That happens with emittiers,” Iago eased. “Our talent leaks out when our pathways are damaged. Cuts, bruises, any kind of wound that may get too deep and reach where the talent flows. That’s all that citrine room was.”

“No,” Szak said again, shaking his head some more.

Iago raised a brow. “I think, yes? Szak, you’re not even an emittier.”

“Iago. How do you think Alea saved Yukina?”

Iago paused. Blinked. That day—a healer had found come out from the hospital and found Eulylia beside him and Sephria in the Arboretum that surrounded it. The healer had explained that, given what he saw when he arrived at the scene in the marketplace, one woman had fallen on top of another.

“Did—” Iago was to ask if Yukina fell on top of Alea, but that had to have been the case. Yukina had told Eulylia that Alea saved her; it wouldn’t have worked the other way around, which meant— “Szak. What happened in the markets? How did Alea survive?”

Finally up to speed.

“I told you. Nothing about this woman makes any sense. She shouldn’t have survived.”

“Well, she obviously did,” Ty said. “Did she know Yukina before yesterday?”

“I don’t know,” Szak shook his head.

“Did she know what Yukina was going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Szak, why don’t you just ask the girl?”

“Because she was supposed to be dead,” Szak answered without thinking. But it was now too late, so he just kept going. “I’ve seen many dead in Oblivion.” He got up and started pacing about the room again. “I’ve seen too many dead bodies to know exactly what they would look like, what they would smell like. Alea was… there was no pulse. For too long there was no pulse. I almost don’t believe it, but.” He shook his head again. None of this made any sense. “At the hospital. Alea told me that I shouldn’t have worried because she was ‘far’ from death. Far.”

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A pause. Szak ran through the events of that day all over again. No one said anything. The silence pressed onto Szak, in a way that made him more anxious. He sat down on his chair, frustrated, and held his head between his hands.

I’m not going insane.

That day was real. He thought back to that moment he touched her brain. All the blood lost on the road.

Alea should have died.

It wasn’t as if he had wished her to be dead, but for some reason he found himself adamantly wanting her to have been dead. For his own sanity.

He took a deep breath and sat up again. “Only a Tumesys could have a chance to survive that, and that would only be if they split their body in time. She’s not a Tumesys.”

Ty tapped on the armrest of his chair. Thinking. He felt that he should contribute, somehow, even though he wasn’t in any part of that day. He looked to Iago, who seemed just as bothered about this. He would be, too, if he had known everything Szak had known, and upon this, Ty realized why Szak had been so adamant in trying to find answers in the library.

“It’s most likely that Alea’s mixed,” Ty offered. “There are no clans that are both psychic and morphic. That kind of combination would be one every combatant and assassin would study extensively for the Edge.”

“Can she be mixed?” Iago asked. “The morphic talent must be innate. She’d be both innatier and emittier. Is that even possible?”

“Tumesys are morphic emittiers. She could be casting both her psychic and morphic talents.”

“No,” Szak shook his head. Again, his mind was brought back to Alea’s brain. “You must be conscious to cast talent.”

“Unless,” Ty tried again, gesturing to both. “Unless, like Iago said, the pathways were damaged and leaking everywhere.”

Iago blinked and thought about it. Would that even work? If the morphic talent were leaked everywhere, wouldn’t it have affected the growth of all the living things and people around them, instead of Alea, herself? He kept this to himself, however; he didn’t know the answer to that. Not yet.

“I need to meet with a professor on my free day. I’ll ask him about it.”

“Got in trouble already?” Szak scoffed.

Iago shrugged. “What can I say. It’s how I am.”

“If Iago’s going to ask about Alea, do you still need me to write home to shuffle through records?”

Szak nodded. “But wait for me.”

“For?”

“… you’re right, Ty.” Szak sighed. “I’ll ask Alea about her family name.”

Iago raised a surprised brow. Good luck with that.

“I’m also going to ask to see the sword for myself. If I verify that it is omnigold, I can have authority to confiscate it and bring it back to the Hearth. Which reminds me,” Szak paused, then turned to Iago again. “Alea must have touched you during combat practice.”

“She did.” Iago nodded. “I saw my step-sister.” He watched both of them react surprised.

“You have a step-sister?” Ty asked. Before Iago could answer, he turned to Szak. “You think maybe it’s limited to family memories?”

Szak pressed his brows together when he shrugged. The commonality was certainly uncanny, but even so, there was not enough information to conclude on such limitations. He didn’t know enough about psychic talents to say whether the limits even worked that way.

“Was your step-sister on your mind at that moment?”

Iago let out a soft laugh. “No.” He paused, knew that Szak was studying his response, and decided to just explain it for him this once, as calm as possible. “I hadn’t thought about Naira in a very long time.”

“So not mind-reading,” Szak said. “Alea’s psychic talent. It’s not mind-reading.”

“Not conscious mind-reading, no,” Iago shook his head. “But maybe she skips that and hits another layer altogether.”

Szak paused. Ty did not look confused by what Iago said, which meant that this was one of those moments in which Szak had not learned what he was supposed to learn in school. He could hear his father’s lecture crawling out from the corners of his mind, and he mentally pushed that voice out so that he could focus on the here and now.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Ty started.

“Pry away at me, darling,” Iago winked. He walked over to sit on his bed, instead. This conversation was taking much longer than he had thought it would.

“Is Naira dead?”

“… yeah.” Iago looked away, then returned their gaze with a smile. Ty saw his gold eyes shine clear. Focused. “I reckon it’s been about eight years, now. It’s winter year around where I come from, so.” His mind wandered back to his home, to the snow and the blizzards, the nights that endured far longer than what was normal in Essensia, before returning to the conversation. Outside, the sun set behind the mountains, and light from the window cast a shade of yellow over everything in the room. “Difficult to remember exactly how long.”

Ty turned to Szak. “Maybe it’s memories related to death?”

“There’s one way to check,” Iago laughed before Szak could answer. “Feel like getting your memory jogged by a girl?”

“Nah, I can jog with my memories on my own. Did that on my way here, actually.”

Iago laughed, but Szak was having none of that. The turn in conversation had forced his mind back on Anastilia. The memory of her head on a pike across the Edge. Ayren had personally been with his family in the mountain for two seasons after that. Grieving with them. When Ayren had first appeared before the Drakon family, Szak had, in a fit of pure, bloody anger, yelled at Ayren and demanded Adrion come in his place to heal his sister. Bring her back to life.

Ayren had to stop Kazimir from kicking Szak out the mountain.

Sorry. I was too angry, back then.

It’s been forgiven, Szak could hear Ayren say in him. You were young. Still are. I’m only an uncountable number of eternities older than you.

Szak felt something in his chest heal a little bit in that moment. Even though nothing had changed.

“Szak?” Ty asked. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I—wait. Iago.” Szak blinked. “You said her father was a healer?”

Iago nodded twice.

“But Alea has no black hair at all. The only sprites that are healers are Envra.”

“Envras are emittiers,” Iago reminded him. “Ivory hair? In case you forgot, that covers half of Alea’s head.”

Szak turned to Ty. “Should we look for an Alea Envra?”

“Sure. You want me to look in family trees of the province?”

“I thought we agreed for you to look in the crossover records.”

“You still think she’s from Oblivion?” Ty shook his head. “Don’t you think her demeanor comes off as a bit… well…”

“Dumb?” Iago tried. “Clumsy? Both? I agree.”

Szak nodded with a shrug. They did have a point. Alea would get eaten alive on the other side if she truly was how she had been acting.

If.

“Alright,” Ty said, standing up. “I’ll see if I can get a pair of eyes on it back home. Anything else?” he asked as he walked toward the door.

Szak shook his head. “Check the crossovers, anyway. Just to be certain.”

“Sure. I’ll do that. Or—I’ll tell someone to do that.” Ty reached over, but Szak beat him to the door and opened it for him. “See you in the morning.”

Szak nodded once, then closed the door.

“Be careful,” Iago sang. Szak turned to him with a raised brow. “Falling for a girl like that.”

Szak scoffed. “You talking to yourself?”