Morning Star

Chapter 28: return to Jendilya | Eva

As I entered the palace kitchen, the head chef greeted me with a merry smile, humming delightfully as she stirred an enormous pot of steaming soup with a ladle with one hand, and casually flipped an egg on the frying pan with another. "Oh, hello. Are you feeling better?"

The last time I'd visited the palace kitchen, it had been the night of the royal wedding, when I'd fainted due to a vision that I now knew were Olivia's memories, given to me in scattered, broken ways that weakened my mind. I was astonished that the head cook remembered. I walked to the bench directly across from the pot of soup, and sat. "Yes. Thank you."

Ever since my sister had discovered that she was the reason for my near fatal visions, she'd avoided using her magic altogether. We conversed out loud, like any other person. Sometimes, out of habit, I would send her a thought, but she would always reply with her voice. She claimed that she did not have enough power, but I knew her. I could feel her emotions, and each stab of doubt, fury, and shame that she felt speared my own heart.

Olivia had refused to accompany me to the castle today, preferring to remain at our home. The one and only time she'd come to the palace was to congratulate Kameron on her ascension to the throne, and then she'd insisted on departing straight after. Uncomfort rolled off her in waves, and I wished I could do more to help her settle in, although it seemed like she had even shut me out.

It had been a week since we'd returned to Jendilya, looking like stragglers who'd been through hell. And in a way, we had.

It had also been a week since our mother had found out Olivia was alive.

We'd trudged up the all too familiar brick pathway to our cottage. Our cottage was built near the outskirts of the village, in the midst of pine trees, and a large oval sized lake where Olivia and I used to float rafts that we had built for our dolls when we were younger. Every muscle in my body had been aching, and having to support most of Olivia's weight wasn't making the situation any easier. "I'm sorry," Olivia kept saying, over and over, but her legs were like lead, and we both knew it. I didn't fault her for it. Anyone would have similar problems, if they'd been a frog for almost two years.

We were almost at the doorstep when our jolly neighbour, Chelsea, spotted us. She and our mother had been childhood friends, and had spent majority of their lives living beside each other. Chelsea paused, midway through watering the roses in her front garden. She blinked - hard. "Have I had enough sleep, Eva, or am I seeing two of you?"

Olivia and I laughed together. "Chelsea, you remember Olivia, right?" I asked, softly, my heart in my throat as I waited for her answer.

Chelsea's face paled. "Olivia?" Her eyes welled up with tears, and she dropped her watering can, paying no attention as the water spilled onto the grass. She approached the small wooden fence dividing our two cottages with shaking legs. "Olivia?"

"Hello, Chelsea," Olivia whispered, her eyes wet.

Seeming to disregard the fence, Chelsea leaped right over it, and embraced both Olivia and I. Olivia wobbled where she stood, but I helped steady her. "How?" Chelsea breathed. "You were dead."

"It's a long story," Olivia began, but Chelsea had released us and was pounding on our front door.

"Ella! Ella, there's something you have to see," she hollered, so loudly that the birds were startled and flew away. To my surprise, the door opened almost instantly, and my mother poked her head out of the door.

"What, Chels?" She rolled her eyes - the sparkling golden eyes that both Olivia and I had inherited from her - and gazed past her childhood friend to us. I expected her to scream, to laugh in relief, or cry - but my mother did none of that. She stood as if she were rooted to the ground, her eyes fixed on us.