Chapter 3:
Twin Souls
“It’s time for prayers!” My mother called out. I clambered to my feet with the unsteady balance of a 3-year old, and waddled my way from the opening living room into the tiny bedroom where my parents kept their holy scriptures.
Resé held the leatherbound tome in one hand, rifling through the thin pages to find the prayers for the day. My father, Gero—which meant ‘stone monument’ in Tena—sat on the edge of the bed, eyes glazed with drunkenness.
“Mama,” I said, and crawled into her lap. She yelped at the sudden intrusion, and lifted the book to give me space to settle in, laughing the whole time.
“Are you ready?” She asked, ruffling my hair with one hand.
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Gero?”
My father glanced at her, and grunted assent. Mother—the only member of our family that could read—always recited passages to us on Downs day, the last day of the week. It was a day of contemplation, family, and rest.
“The Seven Sisters waited by the shores of the Embreath Ocean, lamenting the loss of their husbands. At this time, a messenger of Genai did part the vaults of heaven and descend. It spoke unto them, saying ‘this loss is but a preamble to the tribulations to come. Be strong, for once each trial has passed, unto you Genai shall grant one thing.’” My mother’s gentle voice pitched high at the end, and she smiled down at me. Then she continued. “The messenger bestowed upon them the gift of magic and said unto them ‘this Genai gives as weregild for your loss’ and with that, the messenger ascended back to the vaults of heaven.”
I read along in the book, working to memorize each word as she spoke them. I gave no credence to the story itself, but our daily reading sessions provided the only opportunity I had to learn to read and write.
My mother mentioned in the past that she learned to read because her father wanted to find her a well-off husband. It seemed that in this world, the groom’s family paid a sort of dowry to the bride’s family, and my grandfather wanted to capitalize on my mother’s good looks to land a hefty payday. Unfortunately for his ambitions, Resé and Gero fell in love, and mother became pregnant with me and my sister before grandfather could find her a suitably wealthy partner.
What a trite tale, Melana said in my thoughts. I had become used to her being close to me, and I could feel her thoughts before she actually spoke them. Over the last few months, we practiced communicating, and found that it was much like training a muscle—the more we did it, the easier it became. We could now converse all day without issue, which was just fine with me.
I thought so too, I responded, and radiated a feeling of amusement. That was another thing we learned to do. It turned out that we could sense one another’s passive feelings, but if we wanted to emphasize a specific feeling we could strengthen it. It almost felt like using emojis while texting, only more intimate.
“Mommy,” I said aloud. “What does this story mean?”
“Well,” Resé said, drawing out the word while she considered. “It means the magic that court mages use was handed down by Genai himself. Every Mage, whether they are from the Circle or part of a court, descends from one of the Seven Sisters.”
“So is magic real?” I asked. I expected her to laugh, and explain that these stories were only part of their faith.
“Of course,” she said. “In fact, you will see some during your Naming Day.”
“What kind of magic is there?” I asked. Melana twisted around me like an excited fish, and though she did not speak, I could sense her anticipation.
“Hmmm, I am not an expert,” my mother said. “But I do know there are five schools of magic: fire, water, earth, air, and spirit. I have seen a fire mage in real life, once. He danced and shot gouts of pure fire into the sky during a theater play.”
“Wow,” I said, and for once my childish response was completely genuine.
So magic is real, Melana said, buzzing. I suppose we could have inferred that from the empirical evidence present, but…
I let Melana drone on about the potential scientific consequences, and tilted my head back so I was looking up at the bottom of my mother’s chin. She was a strong woman, with a slender jaw and modest chest, and long waves of amber hair. Despite the relatively plain clothing she wore, she carried herself with an air of dignity beyond her years.
“Mommy, I love you,” I said, and hugged her around the waist. Tears threatened the corners of my eyes, and I silently thanked whatever god had brought me to this world for a second chance at a family.
“I love you too sweetheart,” Resé said, and kissed the top of my head. She set the book down, and picked me up. “Why don’t we get started on dinner? Your grandmother is coming tonight, so I think we will have salt pork.”
Resé busied herself around the kitchen, cutting away the silverskin from the heavily cured pork, and starting her cast iron pot boiling.
You have never told me about your family, Melana said. From your previous life, I mean. I caught that thought about second chances a moment ago. I don’t mean to pry, but I am curious.
I was silent for a long moment, trying to get my emotions under control. Of course, Melana could feel the tidal wave of feelings I was suppressing, but she did not comment on it. Several moments later, I spoke to her. My father on Earth died when I was a child. He was barely thirty, but apparently he was born with a heart defect—my mother told me when I was a teenager that his heart was a ‘ticking time bomb,’ and it was a miracle he made it to his thirties.
I am so sorry, Melana said.
It’s fine, I said. It was so long ago, I really had come to terms with it. My mother passed away in my second year of college after a long battle with breast cancer. In the blink of an eye, I had lost the last of my family.
And that is why you feel so blessed to have a second chance, Melana said.
It is. Resé and Gero are not my real parents, or at least not my first parents, but… I love them both. It feels strange to say, considering I am older than either of them.
Speaking of, how old were you?
Thirty-five, you? I asked
Twenty-eight, Melana said. So I am younger than you, for some reason I did not expect that.
Weird, I did not either, I said, and laughed. I was a cardiologist. I would like to say my mother’s death played a role in that, but to be honest I just wanted the money.
I think a therapist would have a field day with that, Melana said. I was a research professor. Physics, specifically. Even more specifically, fluid dynamics.
I almost failed my first and only physics class, I said. But seriously, I am so glad to be stuck with another scientist instead of a raving conspiracy nut or something.
Yeah, weight off my shoulders too, Melana said.
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