Read Online The Thirteenth Scroll by Rebecca Neason - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rebecca Neason
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Aurya
felt first the stirrings of magic within. She lefther mother and her unhappy life and went to live in the hills with Kizzie, for already at that age Aurya possessed the strength
of will to do what was needed to get what she wanted. From Kizzie, she wanted to learn.
Soon it became obvious that Aurya’s powers would soon be far greater than Kizzie’s had ever been. Aurya did more than learn—she
had
absorbed
, soaked in every last drop of magic and learning her mentor had to teach and wanted more. Still she stayed, for it was from
Kizzie that Aurya had her first taste of approval, the first feeling of belonging her young life had ever contained.
Aurya stayed until the old woman died.
She was then seventeen, a young woman full of promise yearning to be recognized and expressed. Yet, even with Kizzie gone,
Aurya did not leave her mountain home immediately. Instead, she cast a spell of protection over Kizzie’s body and waited three
nights, until the full moon of the winter solstice when the power of the Great Goddess whom Kizzie had served would be at
its height.
Aurya laid Kizzie out on a pyre of rowan branches, a tree sacred to the Goddess. She felt her heart racing as she prepared
herself to dare an incantation such as she had never tried before, even when Kizzie was alive to guide her. This was the magic
of the old ways. Aurya did not know if she had the power to succeed on her own—but she did possess the courage to
try
.
Raising her arms toward the ether, the spirit realm, she first drew her mind inward to find her silence, as Kizzie had taught.
When the stillness had come, and she felt the first stirring of magic, she began her incantation, calling on forces she did
not know if she could control.
But youth dares where age will not. Her voice was low and uncertain at first, her command of the language stilted,but even from the first utterance she knew she would—she
must
—continue.
“
Ignus. Incendium Sanctore. Meus iplore cura. Elementus numen, tuus ipse convocare. Tuus ipse convocare ut serva. Tuus ipse
capere ut arbitera. Incendiu Sanctus, Exire
.
With each word her voice became stronger, more certain, and with that certitude she felt those first stirrings build and become
the fire upon which she was calling. She had only to stretch forth her hands…
Flame flew from her fingers like streamers of molten gold. It enveloped Kizzie’s body, burning it as easily as a bonfire consumes
a brittle twig.
When Aurya lowered her arms, all that was left of Kizzie’s body was a pile of ash. Now Aurya would complete the ritual she
had come here to perform. She gathered the ash up as best she could into a small mound at her feet. She then walked withershins
around the mound three times, chanting as she stepped.
“To the Heart of the Universe I give thy heart. To the Breath of the Universe I give thy breath. To the Soul of the Universe
I give thy soul.”
At the head of the circle, Aurya stopped again. She bowed to the four directions, the four pathways of powers. First to the
northern quarter, the place that held and gave forth the Powers of the Fire; then West, to the Powers of Water. Still traveling
withershins, she bowed to the South, the place of Earth. Finally she bowed to the East and the Powers of the Air. Then, raising
her arms once more, she cried out the final words of command.
“Receive thy servant. Now.”
Though the night was calm and still, around Aurya a wind gathered. From all four corners it came and met as a swirling tempest
that encompassed the pile of ashes,lifting them higher and higher, gathering them up, then sending them outward to be scattered throughout the four quarters.
Aurya watched, exalted at what she was seeing—at what
she
was doing. Here, at last, she found the sense of fulfillment that had eluded her until this moment. Her father’s identity
did not matter; her mother’s rejection did not matter. Even Kizzie’s
felt first the stirrings of magic within. She lefther mother and her unhappy life and went to live in the hills with Kizzie, for already at that age Aurya possessed the strength
of will to do what was needed to get what she wanted. From Kizzie, she wanted to learn.
Soon it became obvious that Aurya’s powers would soon be far greater than Kizzie’s had ever been. Aurya did more than learn—she
had
absorbed
, soaked in every last drop of magic and learning her mentor had to teach and wanted more. Still she stayed, for it was from
Kizzie that Aurya had her first taste of approval, the first feeling of belonging her young life had ever contained.
Aurya stayed until the old woman died.
She was then seventeen, a young woman full of promise yearning to be recognized and expressed. Yet, even with Kizzie gone,
Aurya did not leave her mountain home immediately. Instead, she cast a spell of protection over Kizzie’s body and waited three
nights, until the full moon of the winter solstice when the power of the Great Goddess whom Kizzie had served would be at
its height.
Aurya laid Kizzie out on a pyre of rowan branches, a tree sacred to the Goddess. She felt her heart racing as she prepared
herself to dare an incantation such as she had never tried before, even when Kizzie was alive to guide her. This was the magic
of the old ways. Aurya did not know if she had the power to succeed on her own—but she did possess the courage to
try
.
Raising her arms toward the ether, the spirit realm, she first drew her mind inward to find her silence, as Kizzie had taught.
When the stillness had come, and she felt the first stirring of magic, she began her incantation, calling on forces she did
not know if she could control.
But youth dares where age will not. Her voice was low and uncertain at first, her command of the language stilted,but even from the first utterance she knew she would—she
must
—continue.
“
Ignus. Incendium Sanctore. Meus iplore cura. Elementus numen, tuus ipse convocare. Tuus ipse convocare ut serva. Tuus ipse
capere ut arbitera. Incendiu Sanctus, Exire
.
With each word her voice became stronger, more certain, and with that certitude she felt those first stirrings build and become
the fire upon which she was calling. She had only to stretch forth her hands…
Flame flew from her fingers like streamers of molten gold. It enveloped Kizzie’s body, burning it as easily as a bonfire consumes
a brittle twig.
When Aurya lowered her arms, all that was left of Kizzie’s body was a pile of ash. Now Aurya would complete the ritual she
had come here to perform. She gathered the ash up as best she could into a small mound at her feet. She then walked withershins
around the mound three times, chanting as she stepped.
“To the Heart of the Universe I give thy heart. To the Breath of the Universe I give thy breath. To the Soul of the Universe
I give thy soul.”
At the head of the circle, Aurya stopped again. She bowed to the four directions, the four pathways of powers. First to the
northern quarter, the place that held and gave forth the Powers of the Fire; then West, to the Powers of Water. Still traveling
withershins, she bowed to the South, the place of Earth. Finally she bowed to the East and the Powers of the Air. Then, raising
her arms once more, she cried out the final words of command.
“Receive thy servant. Now.”
Though the night was calm and still, around Aurya a wind gathered. From all four corners it came and met as a swirling tempest
that encompassed the pile of ashes,lifting them higher and higher, gathering them up, then sending them outward to be scattered throughout the four quarters.
Aurya watched, exalted at what she was seeing—at what
she
was doing. Here, at last, she found the sense of fulfillment that had eluded her until this moment. Her father’s identity
did not matter; her mother’s rejection did not matter. Even Kizzie’s
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