As a sheltered child may grow into a rebellious youth, so Alethea went from having no magic, from wishing and longing and dreaming of magic, to a complete overindulgence in it when it finally came to her.
It had been one thing, regaining her connection with Leto. The telepathic link with her familiar had been natural, familiar – as much a part of her as her own internal voice. But these powers…nothing had prepared her for them. Nobody had expected her to develop them, having been born on Shaman and showing no magical ability as a child, or even as she entered her teenage years. And to have not just one gift, but several…Alethea was just beginning to test herself, sensing that there were abilities lying just beneath her consciousness, waiting for her to discover them. She felt limitless, invincible – and also, paradoxically, frightened of all the potential she suddenly possessed.
She knew it was silly to use Lake Lilith as her training ground, when there was so much water elsewhere, but the Lake was familiar to her, safer. Much safer, given her recent determination to practice at a time when nobody would interrupt her.
Moving cautiously to avoid breaking her concentration, she approached the lake near midnight. Somewhere above the fathomless sea, the moon cast a trickling light. Alethea reached for it, cradled it between her hands, blew gently upon it to stir it into life, like a flame. It sparkled there, scintillating, in shades of palest rose and blue. When she was satisfied that it was flickering without too much interference, she tilted it into a jar of broken mirror shards, and watched it twinkle merrily. This was a small trick, though it had not been a small feat to master it. Now, it was more of a warmup, as she stretched her magic-legs.
Or fins, in this case. As Thea stepped into the waters of the lake, shell-pink scales began to creep over her feet and ankles. The further she waded, the further spread the scales, with an itchy sensation that was weird, but not totally repulsive. When she was submerged up to the waist, she noticed the scaling had stopped around her hips. Her feet had thinned and spread into translucent coral-colored fins that did not easily bear her weight. She fell, face-first, into the dark water.
The motion caught her by surprise, but somehow, breathing water didn’t. Perhaps, with the glittering tail of a fish in place of legs, it only made sense that she would breathe like one. Alethea laughed, expelling the last few bubbles of air in her chest, and flicked her tail to swim further out in the lake.
Not too far, Leto reminded her through their bond, but her voice was quiet, as if dampened by the water. If Thea had not been so elated, she might have been troubled by this effect. But for now she was too busy swimming, moving more effortlessly than she had at any other time, slick and fast as a fish. She swam for an hour, maybe more. By the time she waded back to shore, the scales falling from her legs like sparkling coins, she was flushed and breathless.
“It’s amazing,” she told her familiar, shrugging off her soaked shirt and pulling on a warmer, dry one. “And you know, I think I heard the real fish talking, although if I did they weren’t very pleased to be disturbed so late at night.” Leto made a sound that indicated she agreed with them. “We should all be sleeping,” she sighed, crossing her forepaws. Her golden eyes glinted eerily in the light of Thea’s lantern. “You can always stay behind, you know. But you also know I have to practice, and that our guards would never let me out of their sight during the day.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, but the reality of the situation still stung. Thea had enjoyed very little freedom ever since the attack on the beach, which had been years ago, though you’d never know that from the way her guards still talked about it. Meanwhile, Tristan could get himself into trouble a thousand times and nobody could prevent him from the thousand-and-first.
A twig snapped close by, drawing her attention abruptly from her own thoughts. Remembering the light, Alethea reached toward it, and it leapt from the jar into her hand and blazed there, bright as a lighthouse beam. Then it guttered out with a “plink.”
“Is someone there?” she asked the darkness.
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