Chapter 20: Tear it down

Teeth rotted like cheesecloth; flesh dripped from warped bodies as warm wax slides down a candle.

The panes of glass in the window that Briddy had thrust herself partly out of winked up at her, reflecting silver light and dark sky dotted with a nation of stars. Slipping the rest of the way out, she dropped a few feet down to the ground, landing roughly on her side. Staying silent, she held her breath, eyes darting around and ears perked for any sign that her exit had been noticed.

After a few heart-pounding moments, the dorm behind her remained still, its stone walls looming high and disapproving at Briddy’s night-time incursion. Standing up, she brushed the dirt from her clothes, adjusting her shirt before heading off to the cluster of woods that separated the two common greencoat dorms and the upper one. She skirted across the open distance, keeping her head low as she scuttled for the reaching branches of her destination.

The great dunes around campus cast shadows across the ground, their normally red-orange blush cast into pale white like a blush leaving a bloodless cheek. Tonight would mark a week since she began sneaking out, going against the rules that stated students needed to stay in their beds past a certain time. Even though she felt a small knot of guilt in her stomach each time she shimmied out of the bathroom window, this had been the only time that she could be by herself and not die from the sweltering heat.

If she was going to get through that barrier inside of her, she needed to understand it, and that required quiet and not worrying about the weighty gaze of notoriety from her peers or teachers. Rushing into the cold depths of the forest, Briddy felt the cold, firm campus stone fade to the soft, even squishy moss of the woods under her bare feet. Shuddering, she crossed her arms tight over her chest, the frigid desert air eating into her sweater between the smallest gaps in the wool.

“Enkandes. Enkandes.” Briddy muttered, holding a hand up. A small flicker of light appeared like a crack in the air, sputtering and spitting before winking out.

“River’s rush.” She swore, borrowing the curse from Gail. “Enkandes!”

The light flickered again, briefly widening into an orb before disappearing entirely, leaving Bridget in darkness’ hungry embrace. If the foliage wasn’t so thick, she could have guided herself by pale moonlight, but trees grown to block out the sun’s angry rays also beat back the moon’s.

Briddy decided to try one last time. “En-kan-DES!” She over-enunciated the spell, gesturing with her fingers for emphasis. With a dull glow, the sphere popped back into existence, sitting neatly in her palm and barely lighting a few paces in front of her.

“Stupid light spells,” Bridget growled, beginning her way forward and stepping around a fallen branch. She could manage fire just as well, but, well, she was surrounded by wood. She made her way through the forest, pushing lush boughs out of her way and following a narrow footpath that wound its way into the center. Keeping her eyes peeled for a lightning-split tree, she took a left once she reached its blackened bark, and not too much further, the woods opened into a small glade.

Silently thanking Warrin for bragging that he had found the space, Briddy took a seat in the middle, the moss that made her chair lightened in the patch of moonlight that broke its way through the trees. Throwing her head back, Bridget breathed in through her nose, then out through her mouth, letting her shoulders drop, along with her guard, a rare comfort that she could enjoy these delays. She wasn’t sure which was worse, her parents pretending she didn’t exist except to criticize her, or the people at the school always watching, waiting for a flaw while they compared her to Nolan and Adelaide.

At least if she was going to continue to fail here, she would not have any witnesses except the silent, steadfast trees around her that reached their boughs inwards towards her, as though to shield her from prying eyes. Briddy took another deep breath, closing her eyes and reaching her mind inwards. A week’s worth of frustration had yet to yield any results, but she was determined that tonight would be different, as she had been in the last six.

Exhaling, she called to her relic, not with urgency or panic, but in patient request, reaching out with a slowness that bordered on agonizing.

Vex.

She could feel it there, stirring in recognition from somewhere beyond, that distant energy reaching back towards her with tired fingers of golden mist. Piece by piece, she felt the wall slam into place – though not as quickly as it had before– which gave Briddy time to reach out and feel it in her mind. Briefly brushing each brick that fell into place, she examined each crack, each imperfection in its defenses. Vex was beyond the wall, but the wall was not absolute. It wasn’t even always there, it appeared when she reached out.

Around her, the woods rustled, leaves stirring in a gentle breeze that twined between the trunks, tossing branches about in a small chorus of judgemental whispers. Briddy pushed against the cracks within the wall, trying to find her way through even the smallest opening to the energy beyond. Even as she tried to wiggle through, she could feel Vex slipping away, the summoning failing. Frustrated, she pushed harder, trying to slip in, brow creasing as she forced all of her will at the wall. It was too little and came too late, and the relic was gone before she could make headway through the wall.

She tried several more times, each to no success. Slapping a hand flat against the ground, Briddy put her head on her knees, attempting to hold back the scream that raised in her throat. “Bones.” She breathed, fingers curling into the soft ground underneath. This wasn’t working. Taking it slow and being careful had yielded little more than a better picture of the barrier in her way, but no progress through it. Taking a deep inhale, she looked up. This wasn’t working. If she could not work her way through the cracks, then she would need to find a different way through.

Once again, she found herself wishing that she possessed more of her sibling’s genius, their natural aptitude for the arts that they were interested in. All they had to do was want it, and excellence was theirs.

Yet here she sat, outshone in every aspect by both elder and younger, caught between them in a mire of failure and obscurity. She was the blundering buffoon to Nolan’s thoughtful nuance; the blunt blade to the keen edge of Adelaide’s might. She was not them, could not be them, as everyone was quick to remind her.

Sitting there deep in thought, she considered the wall again, examined each failure of her efforts to knife her way through the wall. Suddenly, her head raised, a thought sparking as the last bits of her hope struck as flint against the steel of her will. Perhaps she did not need to be the knife, but rather a tool of an entirely different nature.

Cracking loudly, a branch snapped nearby, sending Briddy’s head shooting upwards as her eyes darted about. There shouldn’t be any creatures in these woods, the entire campus was warded against any monstrosities not specifically allowed through the barrier.

“Hello?” She called out softly, partially rising from her cross-legged position.

“Hey trouble.” A husky voice responded from behind her, sending Briddy nearly a foot into the air as she jumped. Whirling around, she found Gail leaning against a tree trunk, an arm lazily dangling near her side.

“Gail?” Briddy asked incredulously.

“That would be me.” Her friend gave a cocky grin to accompany the words.

Bridget let out a sigh, the exhale carrying her reply. “What are you doing here?”

“Tuck’s worried about you. Asked me to check if you were all right.” Gail shrugged “I snuck out to see if you were sleeping alright when you plopped right out of the window and crept towards the woods like a deranged monstrosity. You could’ve walked normally, you know.”

Briddy felt her cheeks colour but wasn’t ready to let down her assault. “So I need babysat, is that it?” She challenged.

Gail waved a hand casually, “Don’t give me that look. You fell asleep in the middle of breakfast yesterday and your eyes have been shadowed for nearly a week now. He just wanted to make sure you were alright, and I agreed.” She paused, glancing around the clearing. “Why are you in the middle of the woods at night?”

Briddy felt the air go out of her as her shoulders slumped, and she sank back down onto the mossy carpet of the glade. She tried not to let the way the shadows played across Gail’s muscular upper arms distract her. “Practicing.” She said glumly. “Not well, but practicing.”

“We already practice. After class every day, though, you've been lackluster of late.”

“This is different. It’s not fighting, or combat it’s…” Bridget let the sentence waver into silence, gesturing with empty hands.

“Summoning.” Gail finished, pushing off a tree and taking a few steps into the clearing. “Is this that place Warrin was bragging about?” She waved a hand to indicate their surroundings.

Briddy nodded. Gail gave a snort, taking a seat across from her, long legs sprawling out. “You’d think it was the lost land of Seatelmar by the way he spoke of it. Just a regular clearing though.”

Looking down at her fingers sunken into the moss, Bridget didn’t respond for a moment. “I have to do this Gail.” She whispered. “There’s too much at stake.”

“Alright. Then do it.” The tall girl replied.

“It’s not that simple. There’s that barrier in the way and I just… can’t. I can’t summon it, I can’t get through it, I barely remember what it even feels like to succeed.”

Gail tilted her head, considering Briddy with an inscrutable expression. “But you have done it before?”

“The first time I heard its name.” Bridget swallowed, looking up with a quick, sad smile. “I called, and it came, I held it in my hands and then…never again. It’s hard to recall what it was like when it’s never happened again.”

“I couldn’t summon mine for months after I first heard its name.” Gail looked down, her sharp eyes softening slightly as she looked at her hands. “So you have that on me.” Her gaze flicked up, hovering over Briddy for a moment. “Give me your hand.”

Looking at her quizzically, Bridget raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Or both of them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Give. Hand.” Gail held out one of her own, wiggling the fingers as she waited for Briddy to respond in kind.

Hesitantly, she reached out, and Gail grabbed her wrist, placing Bridget’s fingers on her forearm. “Feel my relic.” She ordered. “Maybe that will remind you of what it’s like to summon.”

“I-” Briddy let out a small scoff. “Alright, I suppose.” She hadn’t known what to expect of her friend’s sudden demand, and a small part of her felt disappointed, somehow.

Gail’s eyes lowered slightly, hovering a few inches above the ground as her lips moved, forming a soundless, shapeless name. At first, Briddy felt nothing except the gentle warmth of her friend's skin, and a sensation roared over her, momentarily overpowering her senses. The best way that Bridget could’ve described the feeling was that it felt like Gail. An overwhelming, roaring wave of fierce energy washed over her, knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving a tingling impression of her friend’s smile. Although the sensation lasted only for a moment, it was replaced by another even before Briddy could even inhale to catch her air.

Smooth, and cool, a sharp point pushed into her fingertips as enormous dark green plates of Gail’s gauntlets shot up her forearms. The deep etchings that looked so much like clockwork shimmered where they caught rays of moonlight as the large gloves finished covering the last of her slim fingertips.

Bridget sat back, breathing heavily and letting her hand drop as her thoughts worked around what she had just felt.

“How was it?” Gail’s chin lifted in a quizzical tilt.

“It was…interesting. Like you, I think. It felt like you.” Briddy struggled to string the words together. There were no two ways to sculpt the clay, that had been Gail’s energy. She felt like even if her eyes were closed and she was picking out of a thousand bits of magic, she would have recognized the feeling. But if that was true for Gail’s then…

“What does mine feel like?” Briddy thrust her hands out suddenly.

Gail reached up, her warm fingers closing around Bridget’s cool ones, and gave a nod.

Shutting her eyes, Bridget slowed her breath, trying to focus despite her impending failure.

Vex…

That faint echo sounded back, and she reached out to it, anticipating the wall even before it slammed into place, preventing her from even coming close. A breeze trickled through the glade, tugging playfully at the strands of hair in her horsetail, sending them to brush against her cheek.

Briddy wheedled at the cracks, checking and searching for a weakness, seeking that passage through. She opened her eyes as it inevitably slipped away, leaving her empty and bereft yet again. Grimacing at Gail, she gave a one-shouldered shrug. “So?”

Frowning slightly, Gail let go of her hands. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, that didn’t feel anything like you.”

“Oh.” Bridget looked down, her own frown slowly forming. “What did it feel like, then?”

“Hmmmm” Gail made a low noise in her throat, scrunching her lips up and to the side. “Not like you.”

“You mentioned. Anything else?”

“It felt… I don’t know. Hesitant?”

Briddy opened her mouth to reply, but Gail cut her off with a snap of her fingers.

“No. Not hesitant. Delicate.”

Bridget blinked, snapping her lips shut. Delicate? Delicate?

She sat back, tucking an arm behind her as she looked up at the carpet of stars overhead, winking at her through the tree’s foliage. Maybe there was an answer for her somewhere up there, hidden between faraway lights and gaps of unending night. Delicate. Sculptor be. She was not delicate. At least, not any more.

Furthermore, she did not want to be delicate, or frail, or fragile. A delicate person could not protect what and who she loves, she was what those people protected. Bridget had left that life on the windowsill behind her, and to return to it burned against everything inside her, against every hope that she shielded from despair’s icy grip.

So if she wasn’t delicate…what did that leave? Who was Bridget Vasily?

She was intelligent, she supposed, or at least well read. However, Bridget knew she was no genius in the schools of thought like Nolan, memorizing everything after reading it once and being able to fix things with a quick incantation. “Brave” could apply to her, and yet she lacked Adelaide’s courage in combat, her unyielding ferocity that would not be sated until her opponent was ground to dust.

Her mother would say that she was obstinate, rude, and stubborn, though Briddy would say that meant she had steel to her spine, not unlike Kerr’s. Shuddering, Bridget pushed the thought away. She was loathe to compare herself to her father, especially in a moment like this. He would tell her she was nothing, a failure, a weakling who couldn’t do anything on her own two feet.

“You all right over there?” Gail’s throaty tones cut through Briddy’s thoughts. Looking over, she saw her friend studying her with thoughtful eyes, the hazel color almost appearing black in the dull shadows of the leaves. “You’ve been staring at the trees for a while now, and I’m not sure if I should start being worried or not.”

“I’m alright.” Bridget shot her a small smile. “Just… thinking.”

“Fair.” Gail laid back on the mossy ground, her dark hair spreading in a fan over her head, the smooth strands juxtaposed against her two woven braids. Briddy’s attentions were soon pulled from the lithe form sprawled across the forest floor, and back to the realms of self-examination.

Titanium Kerr might describe his daughter as weak, but Bridget felt that she was no one’s doormat to walk over. Not her parents, not Niles’s, and certainly not destiny’s. If a legend had attached itself to her, it could try and nudge things all it wanted, just like her parents had, but when it came down to the end of the day, they were not her. No one had thought she could succeed at being an heir, from her father to Hennigan, they had all decided she would falter before giving her the chance to fly.

The wind began to pick up again, sending the branches overhead swaying back and forth in long arcs, revealing wider swathes of sky as they moved. Even she had a doubted it, felt despondency at her inability to summon, but deep down, a small part of her had always known she was capable of persevering if only she would keep fighting.

And she had fought.

She battled for every summoning that she had failed, struggled for each step that she had taken to grow as an heir, she had even fought for her life. Briddy let her eyes fall from the stars, looking into the woods as a chord struck within her. She would have to fight for this. Fight for Vex, and fight for herself.

Pushing to her feet, she widened her stance to a swordsman's solid position and took a deep breath. Reaching within herself, eyes wide open, she began the summoning. In her mind, she approached it not as a crying child demanding answers, nor as the meek, quiet petitioner begging higher powers for a solution. Rather, she approached as herself, someone who was incomplete and flawed, who felt things like the sting of fear and kept moving forward anyway.

Vex.

When Bridget opened her mouth, lips moving without any noise as they gave shape to the name, a small breeze brushed at her cheek, a gentle tendril of air comforting the stone of worry in her stomach. What if this didn’t work? What would happen if she failed, once again, at the one thing that was most expected of her? She felt the wall rise up, forbidding her from reaching across its expanse, stopping her from touching that familiar energy on the other side.

It didn’t matter. It had to work. If she could not be the needle that wiggled through the cracks in this barrier, she would be the hammer that broke its foundation. With a silent roar, she threw her will at the wall, slamming into it with every bit of righteous anger she could muster, again and again until she felt it shudder.

Vex. Vex. Vex. She called the name like a war cry, beating against the thing that separated them, making it quake and tremble as she tore pieces out of place, casting them aside.

Vex! The call rang out once more.

Bridget.

Like the sigh of an old friend saying hello, a reply came back, echoing through her body from root to stem. She could feel energy draining from her like she had cast a spell, but this was something else, something entirely new. The sensation welled up inside her, a hissing, bubbling torrent rushing to pour out and envelope her whole being. It brushed aside all shadows of her siblings, her father, her friends, everything until nothing was left but Bridget and the feeling. This was something unique to her, and her alone. It was Vex.

Golden strands of mist like sunlight shot up her arm, eagerly streaking to coalesce in the palms of her hands, the wind rushing in alongside them, shaking the trees and breaking Bridget’s hair free of the loose tie that held it back. Gail’s heavy braids swayed in the breeze as she watched nearby with silent eyes as a gust lifted Briddy’s tawny locks into a momentary weightless dance.

The mist congealed, hardening into the form of a long blade, its point aligned with the moon over their heads. Briddy slowly closed her fingers, anticipating the weight of her practice sword and being surprised to find that not only was it lighter, it was unnaturally slow. The etchings deep within the golden metal flashed as she swung it in several arcs, feeling the way that it sang as the blade sliced through the air.

Bridget beheld the bright sword, laying it at rest atop both of her palms. Stood beside her, it would be over half her height, the flat of its blade flaring slightly in the middle before continuing to its sharp point. Although the metal looked like that of gold, a small press from her fingernail assured her that it was something else entirely. Briddy thought it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

Bridget. That voice spoke again, unknowable and familiar at the same time.

Vex. She responded, resting her forehead against the flat of the blade. It had taken so much to get to this point, but now that they had each other, they would not let go. Barriers or not, she would forge her own path ahead, breaking whatever was needed in order to build it. They would.

Looking up, she let the summoning go, golden mist floating off into the night as her fingers closed into a reluctant fist. Wearily she turned, facing Gail, who had sprung to her feet and was watching Briddy with an expression like a blind woman experiencing the colors of her first dawn.

“How was it?” Bridget asked, awkwardly gesturing around her.

“Well,” Gail cocked a half-assured grin that took a moment to stick before she spoke again. “Shiny.”