A Tale of the Hidden Isle
CHAPTER ONE - IZALIA
One step, and I would be plummeting to my death. I smile from the adrenaline rush in my veins as I behold the expanse of sea before me. Recklessness isn’t a choice; it’s a necessity amongst those with nothing to lose. Although the ocean doesn’t take many Divina, it has a taste for Nomagi. Most likely, I would be spit out fairly quickly unless I skewered myself on the sharp rocks below. A tiny furry hand tugs at the trim of my floral dress, bringing me back to why I’m on the edge of the 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, he stares at me with those big dark eyes, clicking his jaw and whimpering.
​
I kick off my sandals and lower myself to the edge. My stomach presses against the rocks as my feet dangle. Bracing the tips of my toes on the rocks underneath and my hands on the crevices of the jagged bits, I begin my descent. Beau squeaks and races to the edge. 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 is growing louder, and I peer at him with an irritated sigh. His black eyes are wide, and his mouth is moving fast as he hops back and forth. I can barely hear him over the crashing of waves.
​
“I’m fine!” I yell up.
​
“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. I’ve never been anywhere, actually. 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 past the platform's edge, just wide enough for me to fit on. The rare Avalian, my mother's namesake, is even more beautiful than the painting in our house. 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. I couldn’t believe I had found the rare flower on one of my monthly walks of Breakwater Strand last year. I’ve always been drawn to this place – and not because my parents don’t like me coming here. Well, maybe a little bit. When I realized that the flower was already wilted, I had a reason to come more often, waiting for it to bloom again. Simply asking my mom would have saved me dozens of climbs and a less cranky monkey. I should have known that Avalians used to bloom once a year on my mom's birthday. It’s been a decade since anybody has seen them. Our continued expansion on the island has made them all disappear. I’ve been waiting a year to climb down, pick them in their full glory, and surprise her. She has tried to recreate them but always gets frustrated, never being able to get it right. Now, she’ll have the perfect example.
​
I take a careful step, balancing my weight on the rock jutting over the churning dark waters, and lift my hand. Impossibly, the flower has grown straight from a crevice of a rock, the most unlikely of places to find such a dainty thing. I’m still a couple of 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 and channel my sage – my connection to the earth, where our magic lies. Listening to the wind whistling around me, the crashing waves below, and the now quiet whines of Beau, I focus on the coarseness of the rock underfoot, the wind threading its fingers through my hair, and the droplets of water landing on my legs, plastering the bottom of my dress to my skin. Inhale. Exhale. I pull again. There’s movement as the soil around the flowers shifts. Imagining that I’m cutting the roots free from its 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, as I 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 taking a step toward me. He could 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. Not when it’s spraying everywhere. Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he stops jumping. His round face and pointed ears blur at the corners. The only time he’s this still is when – No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening right now. I pull the flowers the rest of the distance, but I miss catching them, and they fall.
​
A scream escapes me, but they land safely on the ledge between my feet. I reach to grab them, but the ground quakes underneath me, and I almost lose my footing. Hold it together. I close my eyes and try to calm my racing heart. A metallic tang fills my mouth and the unmistakable feeling of wrongness overwhelms my senses. I open my eyes 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 begins climbing down. There is nothing he can do. He can’t save me this time. My vision blurs, and I know I’m seconds away from falling to my death. I try to 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 begins to overpower me. This time, I won’t wake up. A shadow drifts over the cliff edge as I slip away into nothingness.