My Awe

WHISPERS IN THE DARK

Chapter Seven

The night air in Uncle Varin’s home carried a stillness that felt unnatural. Zeiya lay awake, staring at the wooden beams above her bed, her thoughts tangled with the visions Mama Anavami’s words had planted in her heart. “The power you carry will either save us… or destroy us.” That warning echoed in her chest, mingling with the constant weight of her beauty and her family’s desperate attempts to shield her.

She turned to her side, watching Kixa sleep. Her younger sister looked peaceful, her chest rising and falling in soft rhythm. Even in sleep, Kixa’s beauty was undeniable—some whispered she might one day rival Zeiya’s, though there was always something about Zeiya’s golden-blue eyes that made people pause, stare, and forget themselves. Zeiya often wished she could fade into the crowd, unseen, but the world seemed determined to notice her.

Unable to rest, she slipped quietly out of bed and wrapped herself in a shawl. The moonlight pooled across the floorboards as she made her way through the house. She found Mian outside, leaning against the porch railing, staring into the darkness of the woods. His expression was heavy, far older than his years.

“You’re awake too,” Zeiya said softly.

Mian turned, forcing a small smile. “I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts.” He gestured for her to join him. “You too, I see.”

Zeiya nodded and stood beside him. “Do you think we’ll ever be safe? Even here?” Her voice carried a hint of fear she rarely allowed anyone to hear.

Mian’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. But I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you and Kixa. That’s what matters to me.”

His protective tone brought warmth to Zeiya’s heart, yet it also stirred guilt. She knew he didn’t realize the true depth of what she carried—the power hidden within her, the reason King Dihon hunted so fiercely. Mian was trying to protect her without understanding the storm she could unleash.

As if hearing her thoughts, Mian turned serious. “Zeiya… people look at you differently. Not just because of how you look, but because there’s something in you. Something more. Do you ever feel it?”

Zeiya hesitated. “Sometimes. Like a fire I can’t explain. It scares me.”

Mian placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “Whatever it is, don’t be afraid. You’re not alone. We’re family. That’s enough.”

His words comforted her, though deep inside she wondered if it truly would be enough when the time came.

Before she could reply, a faint rustling came from the forest. Both siblings tensed. Zeiya’s heart raced as the shadows between the trees seemed to shift. Mian stepped in front of her instinctively, his hand going to the small dagger he carried.

“Stay behind me,” he whispered.

The rustling grew louder, then stopped abruptly. For a heartbeat, the silence was suffocating. And then—a whisper. Soft, distant, almost carried by the wind.

“Zeiya…”

Her name. She froze, her eyes wide.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered.

Mian frowned. “Hear what?”

The voice came again, clearer this time, yet it seemed only she could hear it. “Zeiya… child of light…”

She gripped her shawl tightly. “Someone’s calling me.”

Mian shook his head, scanning the woods. “No one’s there. You’re tired. Go back inside.”

But Zeiya knew it was no dream. The whisper carried power, like an unseen hand brushing against her spirit. She felt drawn to it, compelled, though fear gripped her too.

Before she could step forward, another figure appeared at the edge of the trees—Mama Anavami. Her cane tapped the earth softly as she emerged from the shadows. Her eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, ancient and knowing.

“Mama Anavami,” Zeiya whispered in relief.

Mian lowered his dagger, though his suspicion lingered. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

The old woman’s gaze fixed on Zeiya. “The forest calls her. She must listen.”

Zeiya shivered. “The forest? It called my name…”

Mama Anavami nodded gravely. “It knows who you are. And soon, others will know too. You cannot run from destiny forever.”

Mian bristled. “She’s not ready. She’s just a girl.”

“She is more than that,” Mama Anavami said, her voice sharp as steel. “And you know it, even if you will not admit it.”

Zeiya looked between them, her heart torn. She wanted to cling to the safety of her brother’s arms, but part of her longed to step into the dark, to follow the whispers, to uncover the truth of who she was. The weight of choice pressed down on her chest.

Mama Anavami’s eyes softened. “When the time comes, child, you must choose whether to hide or to rise. Remember this: light cannot remain hidden in darkness forever.”

The wind shifted, and the whisper faded, leaving only the sound of leaves rustling. Mian pulled Zeiya close, glaring at the elder. “You fill her head with danger.”

But Zeiya barely heard him. Her heart still echoed with the whisper, with the certainty that her life was shifting, pulling her toward something far greater—and far more perilous—than she had ever imagined.