Truth

The sun had set, and the moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale light through the windows. Shadows stretched across the room, creeping along the walls like webs of a spider. Nyasha sat in a rocking chair near the bed, facing Stella. In her hands was a book made of an indistinguishable material, its surface alive with symbols that pulsed and shifted, as though they had a life of their own.

Stella groaned softly and opened her eyes, confusion flickering across her face before clarity returned. Her heart raced as she sat up quickly, her movements alert and tense, like prey sensing a predator. Noticing this, Nyasha closed the book with a subtle motion, and instantly, it became ordinary, just a plain tome in her lap.

"You're finally awake," Nyasha said, her voice calm but watchful, her eyes studying her daughter closely.

Stella blinked, her gaze darting around the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she could feel the remnants of a dream slipping away. "What happened to me? And what time is it?"

Nyasha leaned forward slightly, the light from the moon casting faint lines across her face. "All your questions will be answered in time," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. There was a controlled urgency in her voice, like someone holding back a flood. "But first, I need you to tell me the truth. Where did you go today? And before you think about lying again, remember—there is an easy way and a hard way to get the answers I need. Choose wisely."

A gentle yet unmistakable pressure settled over Stella, not destructive, but deeply maternal. It wasn't the kind of threat that came from anger or frustration, but rather from concern—a fierce, protective weight that left no room for defiance. Stella could feel it pressing against her, wrapping around her like an invisible embrace. She lowered her head, the tension in the air almost palpable. Her thoughts were spinning in all directions, but she knew there was no avoiding this conversation.

After a long pause, she began to recount the day's events—meeting the new student, the strange encounter in the editor's office, and, finally, the unsettling occurrences in the forest. Her words felt heavy as they left her mouth, and with each sentence, she felt like she was digging herself deeper into something she didn't fully understand.

As Stella spoke, Nyasha's face remained impassive, her eyes never wavering from her daughter. The silence between them was thick, broken only by the occasional creak of the rocking chair beneath Nyasha. When Stella finally finished, Nyasha shook her head slightly. She reached out and placed her hand softly on Stella's cheek, her expression softening just a fraction, the smallest hint of sorrow in her eyes.

"Child, today must have been stressful—or perhaps, knowing you, exciting," Nyasha said, her voice almost tender. "But now that I know the truth, the days to come will be even more challenging for you."

"Mom, you still haven't told me anything," Stella blurted, frustration creeping into her voice. "You're giving me all these warnings, but what am I even supposed to be preparing for?"

Nyasha's gaze sharpened, her back straightening as she leaned forward. Her tone shifted, becoming quieter but more intense, each word weighed down with meaning. "Child, what do you know of magic?"

"Magic?" Stella echoed, feeling a chill run through her. "Are you a magician? Am I a magician?" The words felt absurd even as she said them, but something in her mother's demeanor told her not to laugh.

Nyasha sighed softly and lightly knocked Stella on the head with the now-ordinary book. "Answer the question," she said, her voice gentle but unyielding.

Stella rubbed her head, scrambling for something to say. "I know that magic is... a force used by wizards to change the world around them," she offered, her tone uncertain.

Nyasha neither confirmed nor denied this. Instead, she continued in that same unwavering tone. "What do you know about cultivators?"

Stella frowned. "Cultivators? Do you mean that Chinese meditation thing? Not much, just that it's been around for a long time."

Nyasha nodded slightly, a small smile playing on her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Good. That means I don't have to make you unlearn too much." She hesitated for just a moment, her eyes clouding with concern before she seemed to steel herself. "Our family is one of four royal families that exist in this realm, we cultivate and grow our power to the point to where we can control the rules of this universe, we have real power, destructive power, or even the ability to create."

Stella's head spun with the sudden influx of information. She held her forehead, trying to process everything. It all felt like some twisted fairy tale. "This sounds like something out of a novel. Why are you only telling me now?"

Nyasha's gaze flickered briefly to the book in her lap before returning to Stella's. "Your white hair symbolizes a blessed individual," she began, her voice steady and low, as though each word carried a hidden weight. "Typically, this wouldn't be a problem, but you were born in the Wastelands. We haven't seen a High Human since the B.C.'s."

The weight of her mother's words hung in the air, the implications sinking in like cold water spreading across Stella's skin. Her heart thudded in her chest. "The B.C.'s?" she repeated numbly, her mind struggling to catch up.

"Before Christ," Nyasha clarified softly. "To be exact, we haven't seen one in over 10,000 years."

Stella shook her head, the revelation too massive to grasp all at once. "But why—why keep this from me? All these years, and you never said a word."

Nyasha raised her hand, the gesture both a request for patience and a barrier between them. "If you'll let me finish, I'll get to that," she said, her voice still calm, though there was a tightness to it now. "Where was I…?"

"8000 B.C.," Stella muttered, still reeling from the weight of the conversation.

"Yes," Nyasha continued. "10,000 years ago, the High Human to be blessed was the Human Emperor, whose name we do not speak."

"Why not?" Stella began, but Nyasha's look stopped her.

"Do you want the rest of the story or not?" Nyasha asked, her tone brokering no argument. After a brief pause, she continued, "The Human Emperor was a great man who explored the limits of what humans in the Wastelands could cultivate. He united the seven continents and ruled over hundreds of millions of people. But he was not satisfied. He wanted more more power, more knowledge. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, a passing dragon fulfilled his desires."

Nyasha caught herself, her expression softening slightly. "Wait, I'm getting off track. All you need to know is that he was a great man who did great things. Our family saw hope in your birth, hope that you might be as great as that man—or maybe even greater, given that the resurgence is said to occur this century. They wanted to use you as a weapon, and I couldn't let that happen."

Stella's chest tightened at her mother's words, but before she could respond, Nyasha continued, "Your father wanted to stay. He believed they would protect you, that they would take better care of you, but he didn't understand the true face of the family. So, I had to show him, I gave him a record of all of our dealings in the past hundred years, and the show of betrayal that he felt was…," Nyasha had a frown with black lines across her forehead, "long story short we left everything we ever knew and came here to this small town in the middle of nowhere. Of course, we had some help along the way, but that's a story for another time."

Nyasha's eyes softened as she looked at Stella. "There is also the fact that that with your bloodline and your blessing, you are a High Human, believed to have gone extinct for over ten million years. You have abilities and access that even they don't fully understand. That's why we brought you here and kept you hidden away, promise me, promise me that whatever you do you'll keep this part of yourself secret."

Stella's heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts swirling in a maelstrom of confusion and fear. "I… I don't understand. What am I supposed to do with all of this? What does it mean for me?"

Nyasha piercing deep into her eyes

"Alright, I promise", with that a golden shine appears on her back, Stella still unaware but Nyasha notices.

With that taken care of she leaned back slightly, her expression somber. "You have three questions. Ask them, then go back to sleep. You have school and training tomorrow."

Stella sat there for a moment, overwhelmed. Her mind buzzed with so many questions that it was hard to narrow it down. Finally, she managed to gather her thoughts. "What makes our family royal?"

"The purity of our blood," Nyasha replied without hesitation. "The different families are attuned to different laws and specialize in different fields, but the common thread is that our blood is closest to that of High Humans."

Stella hesitated, curiosity battling with fear. "Who are—"

"Let me save you a question," Nyasha interjected, her voice firm. "Don't ask about the High Humans. Knowing will only bring more questions and may be harmful to you."

Stella bit her lip, frustration building in her chest. The question that might bring more light as to what she is or why her purpose was stripped from her. She needed to make the next two count. "If we've been around for over 10,000 years, how come humans know nothing of us?"

Nyasha's expression grew thoughtful. "I never said humans know nothing of us. We've masked this in stories and fairy tales, only humans in the highest positions of power and significant families know we exist, and even they don't know how deep our roots reach."

Stella's mind raced, but she forced herself to focus. "Last question. What is the resurgence?"

Nyasha smiled softly, a rare warmth flickering in her eyes. "The resurgence is the reawakening of this realm's World Tree, which will then refill the realm with mana."

"Mana? What—"

"I said three questions," Nyasha interrupted gently but firmly. "Go back to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Nyasha stood, her form casting a shadow across the room as she moved toward the door. Just before she left, she turned back, her eyes soft but filled with an unspoken plea. "Your father didn't just leave his home. He left his family, his friends, and worst of all, his calling—all to make sure you're safe. Today, when you came back with aura on you, you put all that sacrifice at risk. Everything he's given up will be for nothing if you're not safe. Apologize, Stella, just… apologize."

With that, she stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Stella lay back down, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Magic. Cultivation. Blessings. High Humans. The knowledge that there was so much more out there than she had ever imagined gnawed at her. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, and one question rose to the surface: What did she mean by 'this realm'?