Illyia by E.A. Bagby

Author:E.A. Bagby [Bagby, E.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2021-06-14T04:00:00+00:00

7

Hold Me Up High

The black water.

I heard the voice.

If I were to dive into the stagnant swamp below all of my distractions, I feared that a creature, toothy and long, like a scaled water dragon, waited to drag me down.

I am the one. The truth stirred about, but I had hidden that phrase from myself in the black liquid, afraid of its bite. When I had said those words to my father, the creature slid from the murk and into me.

I . . . am the one.

The dragon was not a thing to fear. It was power.

The storyteller role may no longer have been a possibility, but Illyia was.

The voice in my head; the recorder Erikal had given to me, and the message within it; Cleo’s insistence that I go on the journey; my failure at the rehearsal; the storm. Everything seemed to be pushing me. I only needed to wade into the dark water. I only needed to listen.

At Illyia, I was one of the Five. At Illyia, I mattered. I possessed the recorder that had started it all. I had received the message in the Underworld.

When the group of youths noticed me approaching the main tarp at Illyia, all stopped what they had been doing. The ones along my path stepped aside. A boy I did not know slightly bowed as I walked past. And another bowed, and another.

The mood was strange, thick with something I couldn’t identify. I’d been there for weeks, hoping to discover what the place meant for me. But I had hidden in my tent, unthinkingly avoiding its energy, until now. I soaked it in, one aspect immediately hitting me—the drive for discovering what lay just under the surface, within the darkness.

My posture, slumped with angst, straightened. My chin raised. The horror of the argument with my father earlier and our destroyed home lifted. I needed to shove that into the deep, dark water for the moment. I wanted to focus on what the camp might give me. And what I might give it.

In fact, I wanted more. I needed my friends to help me understand the voice in my head, even if it meant returning into the depths.

Hiding flowers behind my back, I found Cleo assembling a tent.

“Giels!” she shouted. She ran up and hugged me. “I made clothes for you, but I’ve been so busy, I keep forgetting.”

Heat rose to my cheeks as I revealed the bouquet of red flowers.

She blushed beautifully, like the fire-flower blooms I’d given her. Then she grabbed my wrist with her thumb and forefinger. “That’s thoughtful on your day. I was worried you’d bask in your success, and I wouldn’t see you.”

I scoffed. “I wanted to see you. And I want to say sorry. I was in a bad way when you and Erikal told me about—”

“It’s fine. You’ve been under strain.” She pointed up. “Look, not a cloud.”

“Tohillocen had it in for me, I suppose. Worst storm in years.”

“The worst ever. I thought they’d tell you to pause, but you pushed through.

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