The Unveiling

Chapter Fourteen

It took five days before I left the house again - not because I wasn’t ready, but at Chase’s insistence that I needed rest. For those days indoors, we spoke extensively about psychic shielding. 

As my powers became stronger - through sheer self acknowledgement that they actually existed, I was unintentionally attracting all sorts of beings from across different realms. 

“There are different levels of psychic attack,” Chase patiently explained as I sat cross legged on the rug in the living room, my back pressed against the couch. 

Fear pooled within my belly, and I realised that in all the discussions around my training and gaining access to my powers, not once had I considered psychic attacks or telepathic engagements. This was something wholly foreign to me, and I was downright terrified. The more Chase spoke, the more I realised how vulnerable I actually was. 

He sat awkwardly on the floor and scratched the back of his head, flashing his swirling tattoos on his forearm in the process, “Um, since your encounter with the trickster I’ve extended my own psychic shield over you so that there are no more attacks.” 

He looked uncomfortable as he spoke, and I wondered if he was expecting me to react adversely to this information. 

I simply looked up at him and smiled, “Thank you, I guess.” I shifted my position, bringing one leg up towards my chest, “although I don’t want you straining yourself or over-extending yourself because of me,” I added, Kai’s request still fresh in my mind.

“If me extending my shield over you drains me in any way, then I’m not the right person to be training you,” he said, taking a sip of his soda. 

“Why are you training me?” I asked. I had thought about it, and I still couldn’t make sense of it. Why send a Fae warrior? Why send the Prince to train me? Was it purely political  as a show of good faith between the two realms?

He sat motionless, as if thinking over his answer carefully before throwing me a grin, “Because I’m the most suited,” he said with a wink. 

And while I grinned in return, I wasn’t entirely sure he spoke the truth. 

When the conversation turned back towards psychic shields, he asked, “Have you received any messages?  Have the angels made contact with you yet?” 

And because of that feeling of uncertainty, I found myself saying “No.” 

His eyes searched mine for a while before he replied with a curt, “okay then.” 

I needed to create a shield around my mind to stop anyone from waltzing in without permission, and with my powers emerging I was like a lighthouse, calling out to all sorts of creatures. It’s little wonder that the trickster found me. 

“There are different ways in which to shield yourself, so ultimately you’ll end up choosing a method that is easiest and makes the most sense to you,” Chase explained. 

“Well that sounds ominous.” 

“Stop being such a brat and just pay attention,” he rebuked. 

I may have stuck my tongue out at him when he turned his head the other way. 

“Okay so you can either envision a dome-like shape encompassing you at all times, but that shape needs to be made up of your energy, so you have to put some effort into it. Anyone can think about creating a dome, but to actually create it and hold it takes effort, concentration and energy,” he said. 

“A dome?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Or a bubble.” 

“You want me to imagine that I’m either encased by a dome or I'm floating in a bubble?” 

“I didn’t say floating now did I?” Chase gritted out. 

He squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration and asked, “How would you envision creating your protection?”

I thought for a minute before replying, “A wall.” 

He chuckled, “I seem to recall a great deal of politics going on in this realm around the benefits of erecting a wall.” 

I laughed, remembering simpler times. Despite this situation, things with Chase were easy. I didn’t have to try and fit into a mold in order to be his… friend? I wasn’t sure what we were, but he was certainly more than just my trainer. 

“How do I create this wall?” I asked timidly. For all my brashness, I didn’t actually know what I was doing. 

“You need to envision building it - from the ground up - but each piece needs to have a bit of your essence behind it, otherwise you’re simply going through an exercise of imagining building a wall.” 

I shut my eyes and carefully crafted a wall, throwing my energy behind each brick, each layer, crafting it slowly and carefully bit by bit. 

I felt sweat bead upon my forehead, and by the time I opened my eyes, the sun was setting and I was physically exhausted. 

“I’m going to test it,” Chase announced, and before I could ready myself or even reply, I felt something hard and heavy beat against the walls of my mind. My walls didn’t cave, as I stared at Chase, eyebrows raised. 

He grunted his approval, “Now let’s see if you can hold it overnight.” 

Feeling less proud of myself, I trudged to bed and wondered how the hell I could hold this shield in my sleep - already it was a conscious effort, and the act itself was tiring. I could do nothing less than try.

The following morning I woke to Chase poking me in the ribs, “Your shield is down,” he barked. 

I groaned into my pillow. 

“Get up. You’re going to rebuild it and we’ll see how long you can hold it for. I think we might just need to build up your stamina.” 

I blushed at his words, unsure if he realised how that sounded. 

Without a word, he turned back, marching out my room. 

The next few days were a blur of building the shield, holding the shield, losing the shield. Each night I lost my grip on keeping the shield in place - sometimes I would lose the shield minutes after falling asleep, other times it would be hours, but the process of rebuilding it in the morning was always the same. 

The only benefit of me not being able to maintain the damn thing consistently, was that I was becoming better, craftier and quicker at rebuilding it. It no longer took me a full day, now it took a matter of moments, and I supposed that that was progress. 

By the fifth day Chase declared that we could leave the house. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, shoving my feet into my winter boots. The wind was icier by the day, as winter emerged, leaving frost in her morning footsteps and ice blocks in the dead of night. 

“To train with your lightning.” 

I froze, my hands stilled on my laces. 

“You can’t be afraid of your power Reya,” he spoke gently, “the sooner we get you back out there and comfortable with your lightning, the better it’ll be - the better you’ll be.” 

I shook my head in automatic response. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he crouched down looking up at me. His hands took over from mine, his fngers brushing mine for a moment sending delightful shivers up my arm, as he laced up my boots without breaking eye contact. 

“I’ll be there the entire time,” he reminded me. 

I swallowed, giving him a light nod of agreement, and once my laces were all done, he lingered there for a moment, looking up at me from between my thighs, his silevr-grey eyes swirling with emotion. I blushed furiously, as he simply smirked. 

Bastard. He was a bastard. 

And because he was such an arrogant ass, I stood up and stomped out the house, only to realise that I didn’t know where we were practicing. 

“To the baseball field,” he answered my unspoken question, closing the front door behind him. 

I turned around glaring at him. 

“What?” he asked, the smirk still firmly on his face, “it’s already singed.” 

“Source save us!” I exclaimed and wacked him on his arm. Of course he didn’t budge. We walked side by side to the outskirts of the basecamp until we reached the baseball pitch. 

The fog was heavier today, forcing Chase and I to slow down, squinting into the distance. I liked the fog. It reminded me that despite my world being set up as a goddam experiment, it still succumbed to the elements, and that in a weird way was comforting. 

The baseball field was void of all other people. Not one other soul was out here and I asked, “I suppose you want me in the middle of the field again?” 

“Reya, I’ll take you wherever you position yourself,” he answered, his innuendo not lost on me. 

I laughed, giving him the finger over my shoulder as I trudged carefully across the pitch. 

A first I thought I was mistaken - my mind playing tricks on me. Why would someone be lying in the middle of the baseball field. Perhaps it was one of the teenagers playing a joke, a game of chicken or truth or dare. But as I approaced, the cold seeped into my bones, warning me of what I would find. ‘Turn away’ and ‘Don’t look’ were the whispers my own self spoke to me, and yet I couldn’t stop the path my feet were taking, even if I tried. I had to know. I had to see. 

Chase was two steps behind me and called “Reya,” with an urgency in his voice I had not yet heard. Did he think I hadnt noticed? That his call would turn me around and I would merrily skip back home without a second glance. 

I shook my head, ignoring him and moved towards the person lying in the frost. 

Brad’s blue eyes stared at the sky unseeing. It took me longer than it should have to realise that he was dead. He lay there unmoving, his hands curled into fists - as if some last part of him knew that he should have fought this. He should have died fighting. 

There wasn’t a scratch on him. 

“s**t,” Chase swore, crouching down to feel for a pulse. I simply stood there staring, unfeeling and unmoving. The cold settled within me, and I was half-aware that thunder and lightning were rolling in, a chariot to the storm. 

Chase stood up gripping a note in his hands, and as he unfolded it I had the sinking sensation that it would be about me. And as I thought that I mentally reprimanded myself for being so selfish - so self-absorbed. A man had died and I assumed that it was about me. That his life was forfeited because of me. 

No. I shook my head, disagreeing with my own thought. 

And yet still, I crept foward, reading the note over Chase’s shoulder. 

WAR IS DELIVERED. CHOOSE A SIDE. 

It was traced in handwritten in cursive. A red feather pinned to the note. 

I shivered re-reading the note over and over again, while Chase called Mayor Winters. 

War was no longer on our doorstep, it had been delivered. What had Brad been doing to have found himself the victim of such an unfortunate message. 

I knelt next to him and spoke quietly, my breath making clouds in the air. 

“May source welcome you. May mother guide you. May you choose life anew.” My words were swallowed by the wind, as if carried to source herself. I shut his eyes and sat next to him as we waited for the cavalry to arrive.