The Brewers of Earth: Elysian Secrets

Chapter 2

I fall into Kearn as the overly full, stuffy underground train comes to an abrupt stop. “Sorry.” I hear myself breathe as I tug on his damp T-Shirt, – that we'd attempted to clean – struggling to keep my balance. My cheeks flare with burning at the memory of my gruesome embarrassment. Oh god. My stomach churns as the train lurches to life once more. Keep it down! Down, down, down! He moves his arm out a little bit wider, allowing me to comfortably rest my head beneath his shoulder. His deodorant smelt lovely. How is that possible on a day with such heat?

“Lily, it’s fine. How are you feeling?” He puts a cool hand to my – on the opposite end of the spectrum – hot, clammy forehead, and frowns in concern. “You look a little green.” He says, moving us closer to the train door, where I lean on the glass with my hand clasped around the yellow rail. He eyes me warily, leaning in close and flicking his stare between my sweaty palms and forehead.

“Not afraid you’ll get infected?” I grit out with my eyebrow raised, a sickly smirk on my face, in hope bartering him takes my mind off of the ache that was beginning to throb inside my body. Why do I have to catch a bug now?

“You don’t have a bug.” He states almost too bluntly, like he was reading my mind. The concerned expression drops from his face and gets replaced with matter-of-fact serious one. His dark eyes burrow into me, as if looking into my soul.

“Oh, and what makes you say that, Doctor Winterflood?” I ask sarcastically, hiding the waver in my voice. He reads it as accusation.

“I never said I was a Doctor, I just know it's not a bug. Trust me on this one.” He shrugs with one shoulder, looking nonchalant. Like that makes it make sense.

We carried on the train ride in silence, Kearn occasionally looking my way to check I hadn't keeled over or vomited on someone else. The way his eyes kept boring into me unsettled me slightly, making me cautious as he walked me back to my house. If I hadn't known any better, I'd have said he was avoiding talking to me or looking my way. My mind ponders over it in the background of the pulsing headache that had bloomed behind my eyes the moment I stepped into and squinted at the sun. I could feel myself burning up, which made Kearn rush me even more, eventually becoming impatient and giving me a piggy back.

Once at my door, I slide off of his back where he takes the chance to grab my bag before I can protest, digs out my keys and places my bag back in my arms. I'm too tired to hit him, but under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been standing any more. That's what I let myself believe anyway. He opens my door and ushers me inside, which in turn creates a reaction from Olive.

“Lily? Is that you sweat pea? Didn't think you'd be home yet.” I hear her yell out, her voice growing nearer. I step inside, feeling the coolness hit me in a wave, as her face appears around the edge of the door frame and immediately turns into a glower. “You're as white a ghost!” She gasps, nearing me and pulling me in while putting the back of her hand to my forehead. “You're burning up!” She exclaims, moving to grab my keys and shut the door. I turn around, a bit too rapidly.

“No wait! Kearn I– “ I begin, facing the now empty doorway. He was already gone. Something within me drops.

“Let's get you to bed. What are you feeling like? Headache? Sickness?” I lour at the sun in my empty front garden and then shut the door softly.

“I've been sick.” I murmur, shuffling into the living room, seeking the comfort of my bed.

“Oh dear.” She grumbles, her hands on her hips. “You should've rung me!” She almost sounded angry at me. She was never one to be mad, ever. “I'll grab you some flat lemonade to settle your stomach a bit.” She hurries off into the kitchen as I climb the spiralled steps, towards my room.

“Don't worry, it's not a bug.” I mumble – my eyes suddenly incredibly heavy. So, so tired.

“I know.” Is all she says.

A woman yells my name, perturbing me in my deep, dreamless sleep. I jump awake with a start at the sound of her voice, as she cries out my name once more in an urgent tone; as these voices always seem to do. My eyes flutter open to the darkness of my room. How long have I slept? I ponder, as I lay there, my eyes watching Cassie's small, sleeping form next to me on the bed; something she rarely did in the summer. How odd. I frown. I close my eyes, in the hopes I'll gradually drift back into the world of slumber but the unease that settled within me keeps me awake, not allowing me my reprieve. I roll over onto my back and sit up slightly, resting against my pillows; my muscles feeling weak and sore, like I'd been running for days. Perhaps I have the flu, you get body aches with that, I thought. With heavy eyes, I look over to my clock on the cabinet next to my bed. It reads 00:01am. I knew I truly wasn't feeling well when I slept during the day, all afternoon, in fact. Happy Birthday to me, I think to myself dismally, my mood as glum as the night around me.

The moon cast an eerie, silver and blue glow through my window, unnerving me further. I switch on my lamp in attempts to comfort me but it just makes everywhere else in the room look darker, causing me to sink farther beneath the blanket. I lay there a while, the silence sinister with my thoughts. Why had Kearn rushed off so hastily earlier? His peculiar behaviour was definitely something of note. His moods often changed and I simply couldn't figure him out, but our chemistry was obvious – as clear as the summer sky. I felt like I’d known him my entire life when I’d barely known him properly for a handful of hours. He bought nervousness out in me but there was an ease to his company, an electric current as we spoke. I small smile spread across my face at the thought of our banter – then I remember everything else the last few weeks had bought.

I rest my head back with a huff, letting it sink into the pillow as I chew on my lip over the day’s strange turn of events. The sudden sickness and even the anger Eddie and Arya bought out in me. I may have spent the day with a murderer. I stop my thoughts in their tracks and don't let the realisation sink in any deeper before reaching for the book next to my bed; my usual escape from my problems. When in doubt, read. I may be tired, but I didn't have to be bored. My fingers scarcely brush the paper binding just as a loud, obtrusive creek of the landing floorboard sounds beyond my door. I pause and look in the sounds direction, my breath hitching in my throat. A cold bubble flowers in my chest as I listen out for the footsteps of my Dad or Olive groggily waddling into the main upstairs bathroom. There are none. Even with the lamp on, the shadow of night still frightens me, bringing butterflies to my stomach and irrational thoughts to my mind.

I felt like the annoying girl everyone hates in horror films when I made my decision and threw back my duvet, revealing my bare legs to the cooling elements of the night. I put on my glasses and walk over to my window clad in my black cotton night dress, and shut it, stopping the curtain from swaying creepily in the breeze. I knew I probably shouldn't go inspect the source of the sound I'd heard, but I'd shrugged it off, feeling parched and in desperate need of a glass of water anyway. Popping on my white fluffy slippers and my light pink, cotton night gown, I open my bedroom a c***k and peer through. My dad and Olive's bedroom door was open slightly, potentially confirming what I'd originally thought. I gave an involuntary exhale of breath, not realising I'd been holding it in. Maybe they were getting a drink, I repeat to myself as I slide through the opening of my door and creep quietly down the landing, towards the stairs – careful not to disturb their sleep. I would've turned on the light, if it weren't for my dad being a light sleeper and being ridiculously sensitive to it. That wasn't a can of worms I was willing to open. I winced at the memory of his yelling.

My feet touch on the stairs delicately and even those steps hurt. Everything ached. It was an endless pain. It had to be the flu or something – even though I felt okay now. My fever was gone and so was my clamminess as my hand slid smoothly on the wooden rail beneath it. I take the last few steps – I knew something was wrong before I even reached the bottom. The smell of something foul and smoky hit my nose in a wave as I pause at the bottom of the stairs and look on into the kitchen I'd grown up in. The kitchen that was completely trashed – the kitchen that was absolutely wrecked. I swore inwardly. Fear spiking through my stomach, tingling in my chest and making it hard for me to breathe. A thick lump forms in my throat as my eyes dart around the ruins. Rooted to the spot, I look from the broken kitchen window, to the cookery books ripped and thrown everywhere, to the cutlery and cooking tools smashed and scattered about it. It had all been ransacked and for what good reason? I have to call 999. I take one step towards the living room doorway before it hits me. What if the burglar's still here? My mind exclaims, the hairs on my arms and neck spiking to the sudden increase of my heart. Go upstairs, find Dad, find your phone, and call 999. This already forms a grand problem. My phone was in my bag, next to the front door and I wouldn't make it without being heard. I know every floorboard in this house. Would my rushing upstairs be as undetectable? What if they are upstairs waiting for me? That was the creek I'd heard. My mind puzzles it all together before I make my rash, hasty decision. I'm going insane.

Never in my life had I imagined myself spending the early hours of my 18th Birthday crouched and hidden in the shadow of my kitchen isle, searching for a weapon among the mess and rubble littered on the ground. This is stupid Lil. I ignore myself, focusing on keeping my breathing steady as I gingerly move one of Olive's cookery books, revealing a sharp, kitchen blade. Aha! It'll have to do. I crawl along the end of the isle being careful of glass, in line of sight of the stairs, and peer around the side to look at the door frame to my living room. Everything was a mess in there too. I force away my growing hysteria and shiver with the effort it takes. Or perhaps it was the cold, and the growing numbness of my fingers.

Movement flickers in my peripheral vision just as I make a pounce towards the door. Bad timing, I inwardly hiss to myself. Scrambling back to the isle, I crouch fully behind it, facing the smashed window and holding the knife tightly away and in front of me. Slight footsteps sound on the stair case along with hushed, angry murmured voices viciously whipping back and forth at each other. I strain my ears to listen. A man and a woman were conversing but not my Dad and certainly not Olive. This female sounded bitter and heartless in tone, not like the woman I'd come to love as a mother. The male sounded grieved, his voice full of emotion, deep and articulate– Kearn Winterflood. My head pulses and my stomach drops as my eyes widen in horror. He did it, rings in my ears. It took every power within me to hold back my whimper and the tears that come with it, my panic raising its ugly head within. I put my free hand over my mouth and carefully, quietly, leaned out, enough to see the shadowed face of Kearn Winterflood dressed in black. He throws himself angrily off of the last step and whips around, looking up towards the silhouette of a small, feminine frame – moderately outlined beneath her hooded cloak – and hiss at her.

“Are you happy?” The vehemence was fierce in his hushed tone.

“Are you done?” Was the cold reply – she'd given up on whispering.

“Keep quiet!” Kearn exclaims feverishly. “She'll hear you!” His voice hoarse as he gestured upstairs and I assumed he meant me.

“Is that an order?” She moves down a step, the dominance between the two clear.

“No.” I see a muscle tense in his jaw as he looks to the side in my direction like he can sense my presence. I hold my breath – my lungs ready to burst – and wait, but he doesn’t seem to see me. I feel my pulse in my head.

“Good. Clever boy you are, aren't you? I've done well in raising you.” She walks down completely, grabbing Kearn's chin and squeezing it tightly, her sharp nails digging in and drawing blood, before throwing it roughly to the side. Turning around before I may have caught a glimpse of her face, she saunters off towards the living room, arms crossed. Raising you, she had said. Kearn's Mother? “The girl is out cold, like they always are on this day. I checked her earlier.” She states matter-of-fact. Wrong. A small flare of defiance ignites inside me, bringing me small comfort. I set my jaw. “You know what has to be done.” She pauses for effect and then sighs dramatically, putting her back to him. Kearn stood hands in pockets with his face still in my direction. At her sentence, he whips his head back to her and gives one slow nod.

“What will you do?” He asks, almost dejectedly.

“Michael hid it well. It's not in this house, that's for sure. I’ve had my babies search it high and low.” Her voice high pitched, as if in a pout. “Wherever he's gone, I'm sure that's where it'll be. I'll track him down. You get the girl. Consider it a gift.” She cackles maniacally, striding through to the living room and pausing in the centre. I hear her sniff fiercely. “Can't you smell her? Oh how I’ve never smelt something so sweet!” she cries. “My darling boy I do envy you on this night. She’s a very special one!” I lose sight of her feline stroll as her voice diminishes. “Which is why she must be gotten rid of.” Her voice flat, devoid of feeling. I watch Kearn stand there; his face expressionless in the umbra as he stands motionless and stares at nothing. Then she calls out to him and he flinches at her icy, menacing voice. “Make sure you get it done by the end of the Awakening day. Bed her, torture her, do what you wish. Just don't keep Lilith waiting – or me for that matter. Ta-ra, my dear.” Her voice sweetening at the end; then she was gone, the front door clicking softly in her departure. Lilith?

I pull myself back round, resting my head on the wood of the isle and close my eyes. Kearn Winterflood. A could-be murderer stood 5 metres away from me in my home and I could do nothing but hold my breath. Hold my breath and silently cry. Stop freaking out! Where had my dad gone? Oh god. Where was Olive? What's he going to do to me? I knew it was the completely wrong question. He hadn't found me yet. Regaining myself, I crouch there a moment longer to regain myself, the muscles of my thighs screaming in protest. Keep calm, I hurriedly urge myself. Then a shadow falls across my eye lids where the moonlight had once touched. Oh no.

“Get up Lily.” Kearn's voice sounds almost bored, devoid of emotion; completely unlike a few moments ago. I dare to open my eyes and look up into his irritated face leering down at me. His eyes look black. Slowly, I stand myself up, pushing up against the wood that cuts into my spine.

“Please.” I whisper as he leans in close, his arms either side of me. The knife pokes his chest and draws blood. He doesn't even flinch. It trickles onto my night dress and his shirt. He looks down at it, his eyes lingering on my chest before looking back up at me. “Don't do this.” I cringe away.

“Lily...” He breathes, his face crumbling and his features scrunching in anguish. “I... Can't.” He whispers, grabbing my cheeks firmly with his hands and forcing me to look him in the eye. “I can't!” He exclaims incredulously. My breathing comes fast in my chest as my brain struggles to clock on. “I thought I could but...” Sighing, he lets go and abruptly pushes back away from me and faces the window, leaning against the sink. “I can't do it Lily. I'd never hurt you.” Liar, I think as I rub my cheeks and jaw, sore from his grasp.

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?” My voice wavers and cracks, unable to help itself.

“Thinking!” Raking shaky hands through his hair, he begins to pace frantically, mumbling words to himself and biting his nails. “I – I gotta figure this out.” Slowly, I back away, moving towards the door. If only I can just get there. Could he hear me? Figure what out? I look behind me as I slide off my slippers and avoid the glass scattered on the ground. Almost there, I think as my hand brushes the wood of the door frame. I keep my steps light and my eyes on him as I slowly back into the sofa and brush past it. Kearn’s silhouette blackened the further I got, as he faced the smashed glass of the window, the moonlight shining down on him. Then he turns around, a mere shadow in the light.

My heart beats through the rib cage of my chest as I squeeze the handle of my blade, making a sprint for the front door. Get out, get out, I plead to myself, encouraging me further. My breathing felt viscous in my lungs as I pounce for the handle, free hand out stretched. I skid to a halt, my wrist protruding through red and black sparkling mist hovering in front of me. I yelp and jump away, blinking as it flashes before me, becoming the form of Kearn reaching out. I screech and parry his grasp, my nightmares coming to life. What the hell is going on? Not letting myself have time to think on it, I twirl back to the living room, more swiftly than I ever could've imagined myself being capable of, and make a bee line for the door to the kitchen – the door to the kitchen that Kearn was already unveiling in front of, in the blink of an eye. Before I even thought about it, I find myself gracefully sliding on the floor beneath his offensive stance, slicing the kitchen knife at his inner ankle. He howls in pain as I push myself up, my muscles protesting, toss the knife to the ground and project myself up the stairs. The back door's a bad idea, something within me echoes. Perhaps it was instinct, I didn't know. Bursting into my room, I swore, wishing I'd never shut the window.

“Come on, come on.” I urge myself, flailing at the curtain and handle in my panic, desperate to get it open. I have to get out! It opens, finally, and I push it out as wide as it can go. I hear limped footsteps racing down the landing behind me and the sound of the teleporting just before I crouch on the ledge and make my agile jump.

I didn't get far. I didn't get far at all. No, no, no! It was all going horribly wrong. Kearn had done something, used something. My hand had barely tasted the safety of the branch of the tree I'd been aiming for. I held in my whimper as a chill surrounds me while Kearn reaches out for my small, shivering body suspended in mid-air, the thick shimmering black mist a bed beneath me. My hands feel numb as I hold them out in front of me, pushing Kearn away as he grabs me through the window and places my squirming body in his arms. This has to be a dream, a nightmare, I tell myself repeatedly, my hands flat on his chest as I cringe away. His grip feels like iron; his arms were locked around me.

“Please.” I whisper, defiantly looking him in the eye. All I see is sadness, sadness and sorrow on his grieved face.

“I'm so sorry.” He manages to get out, walking over to the bed and lying me down. “You need to rest now, it's important.”

“I don't understand.” My heart rate just wouldn't slow. I start to sweat profusely, even though every inch of me feels frozen. “You're not going to kill me?” I breathe out, my muscles tensing into a spasm. I yelp out in torment. I could feel consciousness leisurely trickle away. “This is a bad dream right?” I laugh humourlessly. It sounds dry to my ears. Kearn just shakes his head, sympathy in his eyes.

“Lily, you've got to listen to me–“

“I'll wake up soon.” I interrupt feverishly. “I'll be okay.” I tell myself, a deranged c***k to my distant voice. My vision starts to black out, Kearn's face blurring as little white flakes began to cover his hair. Snow? I giggle childishly, my mind not my own as my body flails with the movement of it. “Pretty snow...” My hand reaches out involuntarily and Kearn takes hold of it, leaning over me, his brow furrowing and his face blurring.

“I'm leaving,” he says quietly, snow falling around him, landing in his black curls and mingling with my silver ones. “But I will come back for you.” he says, a determined set in his jaw I barely see in my haze. I squint at him in confusion, urging my eyes to see. They don't listen. “Your body needs to heal. The Awakening is a long process. But you're so strong, this will be more painful for you.” he whispers, his thumb stroking my head. I want to answer him and I open my mouth to try; but then the worst of all happens. A slice on each of my palms rips open , bursting out from within, and I shriek in white blinding pain. I don't understand, I try to scream, but my vocals escape me. I blearily look down to see blood staining my once pristine white sheets, darkness ebbing at the corners of my eyes. Tears streaming down the side of my face and landing on my ears, I feel Kearn wipe them away and quickly hold me down as I jerk in pain. Gingerly, he leans down and kisses my forehead.

“I promise I'll come back.” He breathes to me, his face close. I barely register it in the blasting of ice from flying out from my sliced, bloodied palms – like in my dream. I try to respond to him, but I can't.

My heart races and my eyes widen in fear, but not for me – for him – as I see a blurred dark figure looming behind him, a weapon in hand – a weapon that twinkled green in the black. Whether I yell out to warn him or not, I don't know; but I do know the last thing I remember seeing before the darkness came for me. Like it always said it would. Kearn teleporting away as the shadows flashed in my eyes. The splashes of green and blue shimmering light as it collided with the dark, sparkling purple mist mixed with the sounds of grunting and a vicious wind that slashed in the air – and then Kearn. Kearn's beaten bloodied form being dragged away as the ice within me sprayed vigorously from the slashes in my hands, finally finding its release. Something within me had sighed with the relief. But the unearthly shriek I'd made with it echoed inside me and rung in my ears, contradicting the easing of my soul and the aching of my bones that dwindled away. Then the abyss took me at last.

“Lily,” I hear a familiar voice pierce through the void. It sounded distant, far away – far away from here or anywhere, as if underwater and the voice was scantly bubbling beneath the surface I couldn't quite reach. My eyes lay dreamlessly shut to the murk inside of me; it felt so peaceful. I wasn't ready to leave it's mellow embrace quite yet. No, I didn't want to leave it. I felt warm and whole – for the first time ever – afloat in it's tranquillity. “Lil, it's time to wake up. You mustn't sleep any longer.” The voice yells to me pressingly, the sound muffled by water. Wait,water? My eyes snap open to the blue shimmering surface above me, glinting green eyes hovering before it. I open my mouth to yelp but water fills my lungs, forcing me to burst through the glowing meniscus. I inhale greatly and gasp for air, gulping it down greedily while coughing up water; my lungs expelling it like poison. Panting, I wait for the choking to stop and my breathing to calm before turning my alarmed face to Eddie and grabbing his shoulders to steady me. The water splashes as I flail towards him kneeling beside me.

“What's going on?” I breathe, trying to take in my unusual surroundings. I push my long, sopping silver hair out of my eyes to get a better look. My heart rate begins to slow.

“Welcome, Lily Arlyn, to the room of Sanatio.” He says waving his arm grandly, wincing slightly at his awful Latin accent. I'd only taken a few Latin classes at school to get the gist of what it meant. The room of healing, I think to myself, my eyes widening at the mesmerising sight.

“Are you sure that's even correct?” I whisper, a small smile on my face as I look around me, twisting in the water to see it all.

“Positive.” He grins, moving closer to me and sitting in the celestial-like water. The room was simple with four walls, dimly lit and warm. There was a wonderful smell of roses a slight breeze cooled my burning cheeks. The simplicity left with the intricately beautiful wooden walls the texture of bark with strange carvings, accented by the growing vines and flowers that covered them. The ceiling appeared to be made of leaves with golden glistening flowers protruding them here and there, giving off a hazy amber glow like fairy light – the light source of the room. I saw the light grey stone brick, that matched the floor, sit above them, being the source of which they hung from.

In the centre of the room Eddie and I sat in a hexagonal shaped pool. It was made of white stone brick and filled just before the brim with clear, shimmering water. It gave a blue hue like moonlight overall, but shimmered green where Eddie sat, combining to create a turquoise where our bodies touched. Little white glowing orbs hovered and bobbed along the surface, occasionally floating up towards the leaves above. They filled the room mystically.

“What are those?” I whisper in awe, pointing and looking towards one flying above.

“What's what?” He asks, looking in the direction I point and frowns. “What do you see?”

“Little white soft orbs.” I say, struggling to keep the peculiar giddiness from my voice.

“You can see orbs?” He gasps, flicking his eyes to me in shock. “That is a very rare gift. They are wisps.” He explains, a warm smile on his face at my delight at the word. Wisps... What is going on? I glide my hand through the water, watching it radiate golden light at my touch. Eddie inhales sharply beside me.

“I've never seen gold in Erutan's pool before.” He murmurs to himself, his brow furrowing in thought.

“What does that even mean?” I ask, curious to all this raging madness around me. I'm going insane, seemed to my main thought lately, but it was true. Maybe I'm bipolar, I ponder as I spread out on my front in the warm water of the pool, wisps moving in the ripples of water. It was beautiful to see the colours of silver, blue and gold mingling around me. A small smile came to my lips once more.

“Ah, and that's our queue to leave. We can't be in here long together” He stands up, the water dripping off of his trunks and white T-shirt.

“Why?” I ask, my head c*****g to the side inquisitively. Before he can answer, a hot, brutal wind suddenly rushes through the air, blowing and drying at his body and clothes. I cover my eyes from the wind as I gawk up at him.

“What was that?” I exclaim, leaning up in the pool and rising to a stand in front of him. My face falls – falls as I realise what I'm wearing. I've been mummified! My mind cries in shock horror as I spread my arms and inspect my wrapped and bandaged body.

“Turn around!” I screech at Eddie, inspecting my white panties and the bandages wrapped around my thighs and chest. He sighs and turns around.

“Not anything I've not seen before, Lil.” I hear the eye roll in his voice and as he steps out of the large pool. He brushes vines out of the way and pushes open a hidden door, revealing normal, plain wall beyond. I sigh with relief as he leans out and calls for Arya.

She instantly appears in the door, hair ruffled from rushing, and laughs at my mortified expression. Running over to me and leaping into the pool, she wraps me in a warm embrace and kisses my cheek, not caring for my dripping hair and bandages. “Missed you girl.” She breaths into my ear as I stand on tip toes to reach her.

“What the hell is going on Ary?” I ask, pulling back from her. She looks down and an expression of realisation and horror crosses her features. She swears and hops out of the pool. I frown at her and she smiles at my misunderstanding.

“I can't be in there with you for too long.” She explains without really explaining anything at all. Silence greets the room.

“Well,” I clear my throat and look at Arya's expectant face. “Can I get a towel?”

“Oh!” She jumps away towards Eddie. “Dry her please.” Oh no.

“Wait–“ The hot air blows on me, almost pushing me over. It felt like a huge blow dryer was pushing at me. I step out of the pool but the swirl of the hot air vortex follows, my spider silk hair waving in every direction. Then it stops; I rub my itching face from my hair with a bandaged hand. Bandaged hands? Then t all comes tumbling back to me. The images of blood and ice and snow. The agony inside of me and the unholy release I'd felt to finally let it out. Whatever it was.

This room felt like a dream and the night with Kearn a nightmare. Kearn. My heart sinks, as does my body as I fall to the floor, suddenly weak in the knees. Eddie and Arya catch me before my miserable body sags with a thump. Tears well in my eyes.

“What happened?” I croak, my voice cracking. My face crumples as I see the faces of my friends scrunch in anguish. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I cover my hands with my hands, the warmth sucking out of me. “Where's my dad? Where's Kearn?” I look at them with a plead on my face and cry more urgently. “Where is Kearn?” Neither of them answer, they simply look away. I swear in a hiss. “What is this?”

“Lily you–“ Eddie begins.

“No!” My fists knot into balls and tears stream down my voice. “No...” I say more quietly, the image of Kearn's bloodied form being dragged away fresh in my mind. I flinch as the piercing cold of soft white ice lands on my shoulder, breaking through my reverie. Eddie and Arya look at each other in concern.

“Get my mum.” He whispers. Arya abruptly stands and leaves through the golden light of the door. I watch her go.

“What's happening?” I say frantically, the snow getting stronger and a wind picks up, making the room icier. My palms begin to throb, blood soaking through the bandages. I throw myself at Eddie, sobbing. “Help me, something's wrong with me Eddie.” I say in a small shaky voice. He pats my back and strokes my hair, relaxing me.

“Calm down, Lil. I'm here now.” He says soothingly. I hiccup. “Shhh... Hey, it's alright. Nothing's wrong with you. We're all the same. Me, you, Arya.” He finishes, leaning back and looking at me with understanding. Arya and Eddie's mum – Merial Wiley – appear in the doorway and watch us, the snow calming down to a flutter.

“What do you mean?” I sniff. The same? “You have this too?” I hold my bloodied palms to him. He holds out his hands and I see a long scar on each.

They open up and a light green shimmers out and flutters into the space between us. I flinch back, my heart rate spiking as the green ceases to exist. I take a sharp intake of breath. “That's... That's amazing.” I unwrap my own palms, wind and snow dancing around me. No one stops me, they simply watch with curious eyes. Eddie's dad – Tyne Wiley – joins the group just as the cuts on my palms unravel, the blood coming to a stop and drying. They hurt, but something about them beckons to me, speaks to me, like I was missing something. My brow furrows. Nothing's happening, I think, confused. It had worked the other night.

Then an icy golden mist flows out and shimmers in the air between us. I couldn't help my beam. It felt so right.

“Wow.” I breathe, my eyes alight in it's sparkle. I look up into the relieved smiling faces above me, the golden light becoming blue and silver as it swirls in the air from my palms. Finally, someone from within me sighs, echoing from my soul. I barely believe that it's real. I wipe at the drying tears on my face with a hand and look at Eddie, who laughs at what must've been a dumb look on my face. I laugh in return – briefly forgetting my hysteria – before his deep voice strikes a chord within me.

“Welcome to your Awakening.”