A Tale of the Hidden Isle
CHAPTER ONE - IZALIA
Recklessness isn’t a choice; it’s a necessity amongst those with nothing to lose.
One step, and I would be plummeting to my death. I smile from the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I behold the expanse of sea before me. Shimmering aquamarine water stretches in all directions toward the forever-constant dark clouds on the horizon. Only the Protectors could call the storm closer.
My eyes dart to the 150-foot drop. If I fell, I would be spit out fairly quickly, unless I skewered myself on the sharp rocks below. The ocean doesn’t often take Divina; it has a taste for Nomagi. It’s a terrible saying, but it’s true. Those storms have brought down hundreds, if not thousands, of Nomagi boats. And there are never survivors.
A tiny furry hand tugs at the trim of my floral dress, bringing me back to why I’m on the edge of Breakwater Strand’s highest cliff.
“Don’t worry, Beau. You know I’ve done this before,” I say, peeking at the overprotective squirrel monkey at my feet. If monkeys could roll their eyes, that’s exactly what Beau would be doing. Instead, his round, dark eyes are alert, watching my every move as whimpers escape him.
As I twist, kicking off my sandals to lower myself over the edge, I take in my island home of Alohra. Swaying palm trees extend in each direction, the top of Crystal City shines in the distance, and the long-dormant volcano, Mt. Apia, rises above it all. I was born and raised on Alohra, like all its inhabitants, my people, the Divina.
My stomach presses against the rocks as my feet dangle. I begin my descent by bracing the tips of my toes on the rocks underneath and my hands on the crevices of the jagged bits. Beau squeaks and races to the edge as Alohra’s landscape disappears from view. My feet find the fissures easily as I lower myself to the platform of rock that protrudes from the cliff. The salty mist from the water hitting the rocks below licks my ankles. I shouldn’t look at the angry tide swirling beneath, but I do, and my stomach rolls.
Beau grows louder, and I peer at him with an irritated sigh. His black eyes are wide, and his jaw clicks as he hops back and forth. I can barely hear him over the crashing of waves.
“I’m fine!” I yell up, finding another foothold as I near the platform. “Honestly, you’re worse than my parents,” I mutter. They’d lock me in the house indefinitely if they knew I was doing this.
But Beau, my faithful companion since the incident, knows me inside and out. If anything were amiss, he’d warn me—which is the only reason my parents let me out of their sight. I hoped the coddling would lessen when I turned eighteen, even though being an adult means nothing here, as it does with Nomagi—or so I’ve heard. I’ve never seen a Nomagi or been to the mainland where they live. My people haven’t left our island for hundreds of years. But no, my parents’ insistent worrying about my health will never end. My new false hope is that it will ease once I take the trials—the true sign of independence, no matter the assignment we receive.
“There you are.” The bright orange petals are just past the platform’s edge.
Before releasing the wall, I test my weight on the rock, which is only wide enough for me and like half another person. My pulse beats loudly in my ears as waves crash into the side of the cliff. Sure, I could have picked a common flower, or even traded for another set of pearl earrings like last year, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to prove myself. Even if nobody else knows I’m taking such a risk—I do. I know I’m more than my messed-up brain. And it will be worth seeing my mother’s expression when I bring her the rare avalian for her birthday present, her namesake.
When I step forward, several rocks break off and fall into the frothy mist below. I swallow, focusing on the flower. It’s even more beautiful up close. The colors perfectly encapsulate the different shades of a sunrise. The pink center blossoms outward into various hues of orange and yellow. I study it in awe before a cold blast of water reminds me to get moving.
Balancing my weight on the rock jutting over the churning dark waters, I lift my hand toward the flower. Impossibly, it has grown straight from a crevice in the rock, the most unlikely of places to find such a dainty thing. Its existence shouldn’t be possible. I’m still a couple feet from it, but that shouldn’t be a problem for my Aura magic. I focus on the flower’s root and pull it with my mind. Nothing happens.
I take a deep breath, push my dark hair behind my ears, and channel my Sage—my connection to the earth, where our magic lies. My attention is drawn to the roughness of the rock underfoot, the wind threading its fingers through my hair, and the droplets of water plastering the bottom of my dress to my form. The whistling wind, thunderous waves, and Beau’s now-quiet whines envelop me.
I inhale and exhale the sea salt air. I pull again. There’s movement as the soil around the flowers shifts. Imagining that I’m cutting the roots free from their rocky home, the flowers shudder. Carefully—I don’t want to hurt even a petal—I project my touch, light as a feather but swift as the wind, and yank.
The roots release. The flowers, along with a dirty ball at the base, float midair.
“Ooh-ooh!” Beau screeches.
I smile triumphantly. He’s bouncing up and down but not stepping toward me. He’d have made this a lot easier if he had just climbed down like a normal monkey, but he wouldn’t come this close to water—especially when it’s spraying everywhere.
I pull the flowers the rest of the distance. The moist soil settles into my outstretched palm, and the petals tickle my fingertips.
I came across the rare flower on one of my monthly walks of Breakwater Strand a few months ago. I’ve always been drawn to this place—and not because my parents don’t like me coming here. Well, maybe a little bit. It just feels like there is a part of me here, on this beautiful, rocky shore. Like I lost something long ago, but I can’t remember what. When I found the flower already wilted, I had a reason to come more often, waiting for it to bloom again, to surprise Mom.
I turn to show Beau, but his round face and pointed, white ears blur at the corners. His eyes are fathomless, and he’s utterly still, as if he’s sensing—no, no, no, no. This cannot be happening right now.
I clutch the wall and lose my grip on the flowers. A scream escapes me, but they land safely on the ledge between my feet. My hands won’t cooperate as I try to grab them. The ground quakes, and I almost lose my footing.
Hold it together.
I squeeze my eyes shut to calm my racing heart. A metallic tang fills my mouth, and the unmistakable feeling of wrongness overwhelms my senses.
I open them as the world shifts. My stomach rises into my chest. I steady myself on the rocks and wince as one lodges itself into my palm.
Beau’s shrieks ring through the air as time slows. I watch in dismay as he climbs down. There is nothing he can do. He can’t save me this time.
The cliff face darkens, and I know I’m seconds away from falling to my death. I fight it like I have so many times before, pushing against the black wall of nothingness. But it’s useless. I’ve never been able to control it, and now it will finally claim me.
My legs give out, and my body crashes into the rock wall as my hands curl and limbs stiffen. My mind becomes muddled as if somebody has opened my head and poured mud inside. Darkness overpowers me. This time, I won’t wake up.
A shadow drifts over the cliff edge as I slip away into nothingness.