Amulet

The murmur of voices fell silent as I entered the Tribunal Arena. I kept my gaze on the banners of sun, moon and star fluttering in the wind, striving to ignore the many eyes that tracked my steps to the star set in the floor. It shone for a moment as my hoof clopped upon it, and it levitated as a platform to be level with the first row of the stands so that all may see my shackled wrists, pinned wings, and chained feet.

Remorse filled me as I saw their eyes. They would remember my sister in chains.

Even after, when she was herself, the memory would linger in their thoughts and color their words forevermore, when speaking to her.

I looked down at her hands with loathing, clenching her fists with my regret. Yes, she volunteered, but I still despised the need. That she should suffer this indignity for my mistakes.

Thoughts were flung about my mind, unfocused, as Queen Namuavel entered the tribunal hall. Her midnight hair edged in royal blue flowed down her back in thick, glossy waves, and her crescent wings were silver, dusted in starlight. A circlet lay on her brow, and her violet eyes were still beautiful in her anger.

The queen flew to her balcony overlooking the arena, her lavender hands brushing the guardrail as her silver hooves clacked quietly on the polished stone.

“Let us begin,” Queen Namuavel said, her voice strong with ancientry. Even after ruling the high faerie for centuries, she still had a sharp mind and strong authority. Authority that once supported me and my projects, before a single fall from grace erased all praise I had once received. Did anyone remember? My tail swayed, betraying my anxiety, and I put a halt to it.

“What are the charges?” The queen asked, the melody of her words echoing with bold music.

The Enforcer, someone I’ve seen around the palace but never actually met, stood and read the list.

“Illegal enchantment of the soul, possession without consent, identity theft, and unlawful use of magic.”

The queen nodded, folding her hands in front of her and turning her hard gaze to me. “How does the defendant plead?”

Swallowing, I took a moment to draw words from my suddenly blank mind.

“Not guilty.”

I felt a grimace spread, gritting my teeth, and a bitter bile rose in my gut. It was hard to believe my own plea when I heard it in my sister’s voice.

The queen looked down at me, disdainful.

“A bold claim from one in a borrowed body.”

Her point was more valid than I would have liked to admit. How could I justify possessing another person? It was abhorrent, and yet a necessity for me to interact with others in the world.

I fiddled with my amulet, hating it vehemently. Might be best to keep it simple. “I was informed my sister volunteered, so I could participate in the proceedings today.”

“And you chose your own sister?”

I frowned, more stern at the accusation. How could she think I wanted any of this?

“Ansel would have volunteered,” I said, “but, I was not given the chance to ask him. Few were permitted to interact with me, outside the court and my family, and of those, only my sister came forward.”

It is a cruel fate, to do something so ignoble to the only one who showed up for you. I steadied my breath, reminding myself there had been no other choice. The rest of my kin had rejected me, disowning me for what I’ve become. I didn’t blame them.

With a sigh, I continued speaking. “I assure you I get no joy out of this. The sooner we get through this tribunal, the sooner I can stop possessing her. So, respectfully, get on with it.”

Ansel facepalmed loud enough to draw my gaze to the stands, his tattered wings twitching and a visible sigh leaving him.

I suppose I deserved that.

In my defense, the slow drama the queen was building deserved a bit of insolence. I wanted this over. I wanted my sister to be free of my puppeteering. I felt ill, and nausea roiled in me. How could I have become this? I needed it over.

Queen Namuavel frowned at me. “Keep your tongue civil if you wish to keep your head when all is said and done.”

“With respect, this head isn’t mine. Mine is buried in a lava flow and dead.”

I touched my amulet, wishing it had been left in the obsidian as well.

“Do not get smart with me Curuisarinaeth,” the queen said. “My point stands even if the technicality does not. I will be deciding your fate, mind you, and so I advise you to not antagonize me.”

She looked to the Enforcer.

“You shall speak first of your account of the crimes Curuisarinaeth has committed.”

My full name. Eugh. Though I doubt that the queen would approve of calling me ‘Sari’ in such a formal setting.

“Of course, Queen Namuavel,” said the Enforcer, his voice sonorous and yet without inflection. An empty tone, bereft of emotion. A chill went down my spine as he spoke, and while I listened at first, my mind drifted before long. Other questions seemed more pressing than his droning speech.

I looked again at the borrowed hands shackled in front of me. Her. Me. Which was I? Could I be losing myself? A drip draining a pool of all I am? All I am is contained in an inanimate vessel. I live within it, but, is it life if one is bereft of all senses save for thought? What am I, if I am not me?

“Curuisarinaeth? Curuisarinaeth!”

“Huh?”

I looked up at the queen, my train of thought shattered.

“It does not help your case to be distracted during these proceedings,” Queen Namuavel said, a frown on her twilight face.

“My apologies,” I said, bowing a little. Whoops. “May I ask what I missed?”

“I wish to hear your side of things ere I proclaim judgment, starting with the eruption.”

Reluctance stayed my voice for a moment, gluing my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Not my tongue, not my mouth. Not my body.

“Right… let’s see. That day I was working on devising a new bracelet, but the details of that are not related so I will not describe it further. Suffice to say that it went wrong and caused a minor eruption of molten rock and metal. Minor is misleading though, as while it was far from a proper volcano, it devastated my workshop and killed me- or, my body. I’m sorry, I still don’t know how to categorize myself, I mean—”

“Continue with your account, not your existential crisis.”

I winced. “Right, sorry. Previous to the eruption, I made the amulet you see now on my neck. It was an experiment to see if Innate magic could be less draining of the soul if the soul and body were separated. However, I did not anticipate… this.”

I gestured at myself, closing my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see their reaction. Disgust. Disappointment. Horror. Fear. Anger. Many emotions worn on the faces around me. I knew they were there, though I saw them not.

“I never intended for my amulet to be used to possess others,” I continued, opening my eyes, “nor that the soul being indestructible would pass that quality on to the amulet. Without a vessel, I feel as if I am in a void. Initially, I mistook it for death, and I believed myself dead until someone put my amulet on after inheriting it. I was horrified to see what I did in my folly, and you could ask my sister and Ansel if you do not believe me. I never meant for any of this. I’d never choose to live like this.”

“But you did use an enchantment that affects the soul, as the charges against you claim?”

I cringed. Fool! Why had I mentioned that?! I ought to have kicked myself for my stupidity.

“Um—" I said, my mind scrambling to patch the mistake I made. “I mean, I didn’t affect it, exactly. I just moved it. I didn’t tamper with my soul itself.”

“It is still unsanctioned,” the queen said, steepling her fingers in thought. Her eyes were unbearable, and I looked down again.

Queen Namuavel did not speak for a few minutes, and the pressure weighed heavier with each passing second. And yet, I was not prepared for what she said next.

“I have made my decision.”

My head snapped up at her voice.

“What? Already?” I felt an anxious smile on my face, strain in my expression. “Surely there is enough at stake to deliberate a little, it hasn’t even been five minutes.”

Queen Namuavel was as tempered steel. “I have read enough in your memories as you spoke. On the counts of possession without consent and identity theft, I find you innocent. On unlawful use of magic and illegal enchantment of the soul, I find you guilty. You are hereby banished forthwith and have one day to depart these lands forever.”

“What?!” I paled, my tone pleading. “You can’t, please, this is my home. I belong here!”

“You are nothing more than a cursed pendant. You have no place among us. This court is adjourned.”

“But—”

It was over. Life was over.

The rest of that hour I remember as a blur. A haze of fears and regrets, and of existential panic. I wasn’t a living thing? I felt alive. Or, was that just the host I possessed?

I stood outside the Hall, looking at my hands; my sister’s hands. When she found out my sentence, how would she feel? We’ve always been close. Did she believe I am no longer such? That a cursed necklace was all I was? Is it all I am?

I heard footsteps behind me while these thoughts raced through my mind. Ansel had joined me, and I glanced at his crutches. They were beautifully wrought, along with the shining brace on his right leg that resembled woven vines. The eruption I caused in my folly had been kinder to him than I, but not by much. Though he never brought it up or seemed troubled by the crippling injury, the guilt pained me. My fault. It was all my fault. My eyes stung.

“What do you plan to do now?” Ansel asked, concern in his glittering green eyes.

“You think I know?” I scoffed, hugging myself. “I never plan this far ahead. I just know that I need to stop possessing my sister, with the trial over. I feel sick doing it…”

Ansel nodded, understanding as always. “Do you want me to host you?”

I shook my head. “Not right now, someone has to tell her what happened in there.”

Ansel held his hand out to me. “I’ll keep you safe until we can talk again over notes perhaps.”

I nodded. The note trade was not the most convenient method of communication, but it was better than nothing. Writing back and forth, amulet on, then amulet off, was the only way we found so far to communicate without me possessing someone for an extended period of time.

I lifted the chain of my amulet over my head, and handed it to Ansel. For a moment, I felt the same pride I did when I wrought it. The white gold medallion, the star cut aquamarine, and runes etched into the mounting. No magic had helped me craft the amulet itself, only my hands and heart, and it stung to now hate it as much as I adore it.

The moment my fingers left the metal, the world vanished into the glittery void I had come to know and despise. I was blind, deaf, unfeeling, tasteless and without even my sense of smell here. I missed my ears, the sense of touch, my tongue, my nose… there was nothing but the empty expanse of nothing.

I’d go mad if I had to stay here long.

I opened my eyes. They aren’t mine -never would be- but it was not a body I recognized and so for now, it was the best term I could attribute. Someone pressed something into my hand, but it was of little importance to me as I tried to get my bearings. I had been in the void of my amulet for several hours this time, and coming back to reality was always a bit of a shock after so long.

“Where am I?” my unfamiliar voice rasped. I felt like my throat had not been touched by water for days, and hunger clawed at my belly as I sat up. “Who am I?”

“You’re at a clinic in Ardûnn,” Ansel said. He was sitting in a chair, his crutches against the wall. I squinted at him- why could I not see clearly?

Ansel tapped my hand, the one holding the object I had just been given. I realized he had given me a pair of glasses. I put them on and the world snapped into focus. “Thanks.”

My friend nodsded, then answered my second question. “I don’t know his name, no one does, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s an animaexodus.”

“You found one?” Shock colored my voice. We had been searching for years since I was banished. Most animaexodi die from an overuse of magic. Ejecting the soul but leaving the body fully functional is a thousand in one chance- and it looked like our luck paid off. Sucks for whoever this was, but it’s not like his soul is using this body ever again. It might be a tad unethical, but I couldn’t bear the thought of enduring that horrible void again for long.

The lesser of two evils was to accept what the universe has offered me.

“No name?” I asked Ansel, and he shook his head. “May I have a mirror? I want to see his face.”

Ansel nodded, his indigo dapples glinting in the lamplight of the infirmary, and he handed me a handheld mirror.

Turning it over in my hands, my relieved smile turned to a frown of mild disgust.

“A human? Really?”

Ansel nodded, apologetic. “Humans do make up about sixty percent of the continent’s population.”

“But they’re the least magical of all the peoples!”

“At least you’re not a goblin.”

I tossed the mirror onto my pillow.

“Fair enough. I couldn’t speak if I were a goblin, you’ve seen their mandibles.”

“I’m just grateful that we found an animaexodus at all, Curuisarinaeth. It is the best we can do.”

That name… it felt like it belonged to someone else. Someone buried under a lava flow far in the north. Was I still… me?

“I ought to go by something else. Maybe Aranasari?”

“That’s still Elanali, still fae-tongue.”

“I don’t know what humans call themselves,” I said. “Maybe choosing a name that means the sun is rising to a new beginning will help me forget the past, and just live life. A new life. Besides, Aranasari still has ‘sari’ in it so I don’t have to choose a new nickname.”

Ansel sighed in defeat, “Alright. So, Sari, what will you do now?”

I look down, studying the odd skin of my hands. My hands, from before the eruption, had been a pale blue with indigo tints. My sister’s had been pale gold, not unfamiliar. Yet this human’s hands were kind of a tan, or pale peach. Not very appealing. I took up the mirror again and more closely studied my reflection. My hair was short and an ugly sand color. Blonde, I think it was called. I took my glasses off, the world becoming a blur. My eyesight… eugh. I put my glasses back on and studied my face. It was unseemly, seeing their round ears and strange bland skin instead of the proper features of a fae. What had I looked like before? I wasn’t sure I remembered, it had been so long.

This wasn’t my body.

It would never be me.

What am I?

Just an amulet?

A phantom?

A curse?

What could I do?

Where should I go?

Do I even live?

Was I ever alive?

“Sari?” Ansel’s voice held such concern for me. For a necklace. Just an object.

I looked up at Ansel, my voice thick.

“I don’t know.”