A knot loosened in Domenic’s chest. “Say, theoretically, there’s this Chosen One. He’s talented, handsome, valiant—the whole package.”
“Mhm, theoretically,” Ellery drawled.
“Sure, he’s heard the supposed words of destiny with all these prophecy pieces. But everyone claims destiny is more than that. That it’s been watching him or prodding him along his whole life. And when he looks back, he can almost see it. He can almost…” He groaned and pressed his left palm into his eye socket. “Would you believe I called my mom?”
Her muffled laugh made chills prickle up his arm. “Oh, so it really is dire, then.”
“Yeah. Some of my memories—I was so young. I thought maybe she could help. But even though most magicians brag about being the pride of their families, you’d think my mom usually forgets she has a third son. And she’s always been like that—they all have. There was this one time. I-I was seven.” Domenic didn’t mean for his voice to catch, but in truth, the memory was no footnote. “I wandered into the woods. It’s a bithazy what happened, but for a long time I was convinced I’d found an alban tree. I claimed that it bloomed when I touched it, and I was so excited to tell my parents. I was sure this meant that I had magic.”
Ellery let out a startled sound. “That’s how I figured it out, too.Exactlyhow. There was an alban tree, and I hadn’t been tested for magic yet, but… it was like it recognized me.”
The memory had been no dream, then. And despite how many times Domenic had proven himself, for a moment, there was relief. He squeezed his wand tight.
And yet, ever higher, the evidence mounted—like the walls of a prison, or perhaps a castle.
“Then, when I returned from the woods, do you know how long I was gone?Three days.I’d had no idea. But my family didn’t seem to either. It’s like there’s a…” He struggled to find a suitable word. “A fog. Like they’ve barely ever been able to see me. Like I never belonged to them, and on some level, they always knew it. And yeah, I guess it’d be relieving, if destiny was always the reason and not that I—I don’t know—was never worth anything to them. But then I think about what happened to me, to me and Hanna and our whole class, and I can’t buy it. It’d be nice to stop hating myself for it being Hanna who had to bond with Syarthis. But to think that destiny would’ve just sat back and done nothing—or worse, to have played a hand in it… I can’t believe in something like that. Even if I get to be special.”
“I understand why you don’t believe in it,” Ellery said.
“But you do, right? You told me you do.”
She fell silent for a long time, long enough that Domenic feared he’d dampened their night enough to ruin it, to ruin all of their future ones, forever.
“S-sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to go so dark. I’m just tired. I—”
“I understand about your family and Syarthis,” she blurted.“Whether it’s all destiny’s fault or not, I can’t be sure. But I promise I-I understand.”
Domenic swallowed. Ellery never brought up her childhood.
But rather than elaborate, she asked, “What about Hanna and Councilor Seong? They’re your family, too.”
“Yeah. Definitely. If anything, they’re my actual family. But…”
He glanced at the door that adjoined his room to Hanna’s. Light still spilled from beneath it, and so he cast a hasty soundproofing enchantment.
Yet he whispered his betrayal all the same.
“I don’t think Hanna and Iseul see me either. Not—not like how my family can’t. But they don’t seeallof me. Like I’m justmeto them, not a Chosen One. When really, I think I’ve always been both.”
He twisted Valmordion, examining its many illustrious fingerprints until he found his own, set just above the handle. Its whorl blurred as he blinked away tears.
“I’m sorry,” Ellery said. “For me, it’s always been the opposite. There’s always been this wall between me and the people I care about—Glynn, Julian… Maybe that’s why I believe in destiny. Because they could always see that I was meant for something, but they couldn’t seeme.”
Even when they were different, always,alwaysthey were the same.
As per usual, Domenic’s emotions stoked his magic, and he worried she could sense it flaring. Embarrassed, he leapt up, desperate to move. He rummaged through his dresser.
“Now, going back to more important matters—whatofour retirements?” Domenic asked. “The cataclysm won’t last forever, not with the short work we’re making of it. We ought to start planning soon. What did other Chosen Ones do in the after?”
“You mean aside from Rhodes?”
“Yes, obviously. I won’t be bursting into flames if I’ve got you next to me.” He yanked out the bundle of striped red flannel bunched in the corner.
“Huh. I don’t think the academy taught us that, actually,” Ellery said. “The lessons usually stopped right after the Chosen One saved the… What’s that noise?”
“I’m changing. You’re not the only one up past their bedtime. Though you should know, your magic feels quite a bit colder when I’m half-clothed.”
Domenic hated every word as soon as they left his mouth. He and Ellery had admittedly toed the edge of propriety before, but only because the collars of Mr. Alderland and Miss Perfect were tight enough to choke. No matter how many lines they’d crossed tonight, Ellery knew better than to cross this one. And so did he. Theoretically.
