Chaos ensued when the Kallah council became aware of Micah's intentions and they all stood against him. My mother took advantage of the diversion and chaos, took me and my father and they fled to safety.
My mother was an apprentice T'aersy and my father a High J' aar . A distinction wich was given right before entering the Kallah Council.
V' asay were made from those who failed to complete their T'aersy stage.
Creatures of magic, but incapable of welding it. Not worthy of welding it.
My mother never completed her apprenticeship and she used what she knew to hide me from Micah who began his hunt, relentlessly. But my father was skilled enough, and held plenty of knowledge and taught my mother everything she needed to keep us safe. Clearly, they were out of their depth, because he found me. I suppose his patience paid of in the end.
From there she goes on to detail their lives with me and the challenges they faced.
When my power awakened at the age of seven, she had no choice but to keep me home, since I was beginning to manifest at random times, in public places. Since, they had no knowledge of anyone capable of doing what I can do, they defered to a safer choice.
The first time it happened, I made an entire classroom dissappear. Fortunately they reappeared but they were all shaken and scared to death.
I must've taken them with me in a pocket I've made, just like I took Mason.
Something horrible must've happened while we were in there, because everyone looked at me and they began screaming bloody murder. I have no recollection of such event ever happening.
My mother mentions that on few occasions my powers manifested so violently that I brought things to life that it shouldn't have existed. This is news to me, because I haven't been able to achieve such a feat, but then again when I do remember what happened back in Lamport in the house while I was wasting away, and that sounds very similar to what my mother is referring to as the most terrible day of her life.
They were worried that the bind she put on my powers wasn't sufficient to stabilise me, and the boy wouldn't suffice to channel the power I was collecting left and right. They were searching for someone else, another lost soul but they could find a right fit. Apparently there is a certain criteria, and Mason has checked all the right boxes. Which makes me wonder what exactly is he? Surely, if they have struggled to find another like him, there must be certain qualities that must be fulfilled. Being incredibly handsome, and a bastard to begin with, I don't see why they struggled.
And then, they came, the V'asay. The past had finally caught up to them after fifteen years, and V'asay did what they do best and tried to capture them on one occasion, and succeeded on their second attempt.
The last entry she made was the day before they died.
It was a set of instructions to manage the bind between us. They were getting too close. They knew their time was near. Why didn't they just leave? That thought gives me pause and I take another few minutes to sort through my thoughts, and put everything aside for latter to pick apart and analyse in detail.
The bind she has placed on Mason and I allows me to expell exces of power through him. In her words it was a feeble attempt to help me. She had no knowledge of anyone else capable of doing what I do, so it was uncharted territory. It still is to this day, I want to say to her but she is not here to hear me, even though I wish she would. We never argued, but right now I would have the mother of all arguments if she would be in the same room with me, right after I hug her and tell her how much I love her.
The words that Mason used, they are called soothing words, meant to keep my power from flaring, and lashing. They were effective but only offered temporary relief.
By the time I finished reading the journals, I realised that in spite of what happened to them and how I came to be, I was grateful. I was grateful for the life that they have given me, and the love and care they showed towards me.
At the back of the journal sat a letter addressed to me. It was my mother's writing on the envelope.
Memories that I've buried deep down, mostly to keep myself from drowing in my own sorrow finally returned to me.All of that dwarfed in comparison to the warm feeling of longing and love spreading inside at the thought of them.
Her candid smiles, eyes that no matter what I did they never lost their warmth. Her velvety voice was always soothing, and loving. My father's soft spoken way that somehow managed to be firm, and loving at the same time. The way his big almond eyes shined with devotion whenever they were together, and I'll never forget his love for the esoteric, mythical, and the arcane, something that I haven't inherited from him. It makes me wonder about his part in all of this, and how he has let anyone convince him to get him on board to whatever happened in the Kallah. Because try as I might, I don't seem to be able to reconcile the man that I knew with the man that served under Micah or Oren.
I never understood how someone so kind could be around someone so vile like Micah.