"Why can't I sing?"

     "The world is filled with greedy people," Mother replied, gently tucking strands of my dishwater blonde hair away in a braid. "Those sorts of people will lock you in a cage so your only purpose is to sing. You will be stripped away from everyone you know and love."

     Though her hands were gentle, I still flinched at the touch. "But the power calls to me. Sometimes, all I ever want to do is sing."

     "It is the burden of the power," Mother replied gravely, tying the end of the braid so it wouldn't come loose during the night. I stared at the wall in front of me, trying to imagine what the braid looked like on my head. We didn't have a mirror in the house, so the only glimpses of myself that I ever got were in the lake water, which was often clouded by the dirt and grime accumulated by the Lower City. Mother gently tugged the hair in front of my ears to bring the strands down. We had to conceal the abnormal tips.

     Mother gently kissed the back of my head. "I wish you could have been brought up in a place where you could sing your heart out, but here is not that place. Maybe someday you'll be able to be free." Her voice carried about as much confidence as my father when he came back from his fishing trips with only a couple of minute fish. She didn't believe a word she was saying. She had lost her hope in that dream a long time ago.

     I didn't move, but Mother seemed to sense my inner resistance. She had a knack for understanding what people were thinking. "You need to promise me that you won't sing."

     I wanted to refuse. I wanted to use my power every day and in every way. I wanted to call to the dragons and watch them dance in the sky. Sadly, Mother would never allow it, and I didn't want to put my family in danger.

     "Do I have a choice?" I asked tentatively, already knowing the answer.

     "No, my precious daughter, you do not have a choice."

     Music flitted through the air, weaving its way through a hundred dancing peasants. It was fast paced, yet still carried a sweet melody that had all the bystanders not dancing singing along. The dimly lit lanterns were nothing compared the majesty of the setting sun in casting the crowd with a halo of deep orange light. Many smiling faces cheered along as they conversed and ate, each person acting with practiced care to maintain the allusion of joy.

     I weaved my way through the crowd, refusing to acknowledge the stuffy evening air. The world smelled of fish and dirt; we were only low-ranking citizens joining together for a start of summer party. Summer meant the produce would grow and the animals would fatten quickly. Summer meant the citizens of the Middle City would come out of their houses to exchange goods with us. Summer meant there was less work on everyone's backs, so we could go to bed earlier or spend more time focusing on family units.

     I excused my way through several groups of people, all of them smelling strongly of unwashed livestock. The stench didn't bother me, though I'm sure it would horrify anyone coming from the other side of the lake. My father was a fisherman, so our small shack constantly carried that odor around.

     Another dance was about to start, and I needed a partner. I desperately searched the crowd for my brother, Liam, but I had yet to find him. My height gave me an unfair disadvantage in these situations. Someone bumped into me accidentally, causing me to recoil in shock and trip over the hem of my dress.

     Liam caught me before I hit the dusty ground. I reached up to pull my hat back into place as he laughed.

     "I was looking for a partner," he said, his eyes alight with mirth. "Looks like I caught you at a good time."

    "Playing on words is going to get you nowhere," I brushed off my frock. "You know the officials like precise sentences."

     "Well, you certainly aren't an official, and I'm sure you found it a little clever," he winked, then hooked his arm around mine to lead me through the crowd.

     Liam had a gift for humor, which I think came from Mother. All of us seemed to inherit a natural ability to speak eloquently, and Liam's gift was that he tended to know how to get along with people. I don't know if elemental power was purely transferred, partially genetic, or if our way with words came from being raised by the Master of Communication.

     I followed Liam out to the cleared area where all the couples were bowing to each other. We both grabbed a set of sashes to hold on to. Dancing in our culture did not require physical contact (something I was very grateful for); it happened through the swishing of sashes or ribbons. Each partner would hold onto one end, and there the dance would start. The boys would guide the ribbons, helping the girls along. The music would get faster and faster, causing the crowd to look like a giant rainbow in action. It was a beautiful sight, and even more fun to dance inside of. I was a half-decent dancer, so I was able to enjoy myself at the parties.

     Liam and I bowed to each other, the sash wrapped around our wrists. He was younger than me, almost by seven years, but somehow he had reached my height. Since Brianne hadn't hit her growth spurts yet, I went ahead and assumed I was the only child to inherit Mother's short gene. While there were many remarks made on how much I looked like Mother, there was something from Father's side I was the only child to inherit. I was the only child to have Father's blonde hair. The fact, as little as it was, made me feel a bit independent from Mother's legacy.

     The music started up again, a symphony of fiddles and drums. Liam and I clapped twice up and down with the dancing crowd, then started to circle each other. Our footsteps went forward and backward, slowly with the beginning music.

     Clap twice up and down.

     Twirl around the entwined fabric.

     Steps in and out.

     The music sped up with each step, turning the crowd into a flurry of swishing fabric and rustling bodies. All around me, voices sang along with the lyrics, turning the world into a storm of song and dance. The magic of the music itched its way up my throat, begging me to sing along. It was a constant force in the back of my mind pleading for me to let it in. I couldn't. I couldn't go against my family's wishes.

     Sing.

     I would not.

     Sing!

     I would not!

     SING!

     The song was a bubble in my mouth about to explode when suddenly, a bright light shined from above us.

     Chaos broke out as everyone scrambled for cover. All above the crowd, the sky had filled up with an intense array of rainbow colors. It shined over everything, making the world more visible than it had ever been in direct sunlight. Screams echoed into the air, from our square and from other parts of the village.

     "Sister!" Liam scrambled to my side in the rush of moving bodies, clutching my arm and pulling me into the crowd. Everyone pushed in on each other in the ruckus, making me feel like I was suffocating. I couldn't see Liam in the brightness amidst the bodies. Then, our hands slipped, causing him to let go of me.

     I cried out, dropping to the ground so I wouldn't be trampled by the rustling crowd. Air seemed impossible in the rushing storm of panicked people. I wrapped my arms around my knees, taking as many deep breaths as I was able.

     Within a short amount of time, the rainbow started to fade, and the crowd stopped running around. Father found me in a few seconds, immediately sheltering me as we made our way back to our family. Mother was huddled against a pole, my toddler sister, Brianne, huddled in her arms. Liam stood beside her, doing his best to protect them both from what he could. Father pushed me towards my siblings as everyone realized the attack of color was over. The sky turned back to its darkened shade, making every citizen in the realm wonder what had just happened.

     I was supposed to be comforted by the fact that my family was all around me, trying their best to shield me. All I could feel was the same suffocating darkness that had enveloped me in the freaked-out mob.

     As the screams turned to whispers, I saw my parents exchange a hefty glance. Both of them knew something, but neither of them would say it aloud.

     "Let's get back to the house," Mother took one of Liam's hands and nodded her head in the direction of our home. "Before something like this happens again."

     I was an obedient child; so, I followed.

There's nothing like watching your father and the doctor argue in hushed tones outside your ill mother's door.

     Then again, there was nothing like watching your mother die knowing there was nothing you could do to stop it.

      "Peak..." Mother sighed from her bed; her words slurred by her most recent medicine. Her shiny forehead was soaked in sweat; her brown hair laid lank against her head in tangled strands. I clutched her hand tighter, grateful for every pulse I could count. "What... what are they saying?"

     "I don't know," I replied with a shaky breath, gently smoothing a strand of her hair off her cheek. "I hate it every time they argue."

     "Peak..." Mother tried to reach up to me, only to wince from the effort. "Don't be mad... at the doctor... for this."

     "It's his fault you aren't getting better!" Unwanted tears escaped from the edges of my eyes. I buried my face into my hands. "It's their fault you're going to... that you're... like this."

     "Death is a funny thing," Mother said, turning her gaze to the ceiling. "You never expect it... it to come until you hear that knocking... on your bedroom door and the hushed arguments amongst the... the ones you love." She chuckled weakly, her fingers twitching.

     I grabbed her hand again, wishing with all my heart that this was just another bad nightmare. That she wasn't really dying.

     "Your father never knew... how to properly grieve," Mother's voice was light, though her words were heavy, "I guess you inherited that from him. Did you know... did you know that once he tried to console someone that had just lost their best friend... by telling them they had to keep fighting? The nerve."

     "How else do you tell someone goodbye?" I was shaking, shaking so hard. How could she laugh in the face of death? How could she be making jokes when the virus was killing her?

     "You tell them to... to take their time! That'll show them what you... what you think of their session," Mother attempted to laugh again, only to collapse into a coughing fit. I reached over to dab her mouth with a washcloth. "Cole never realized... the hardest part of grief is thinking you're alone." She squeezed my fingers slightly, her lips curling into a small smile. "But I'm not alone. I have you, I have my... my precious triplets, and I have Cole. What could make me happier... than to know you all are okay?"

     I laid my head on the side of her bed, trying to quiet my sniffles. The message in her words was clear: she knew she was close. This was her way of giving me a goodbye while she still could. Mother's fingers grazed my hair, making me sob even harder into the covers. I couldn't breathe out of my nose, and my eyes felt like drops of glue were invading them from all the tears.

     "I don't want to lose you, Momma."

     "You'll never lose me completely, Peak. Now, I need... I need you to watch after your father... and the triplets, okay?"

     "I promise, Momma."

     "I love you... my son. Just remember, you will never... never lose me completely. I will always be with you."

     I blindly stumbled over my own feet, barely regaining my balance in time to stop myself from splatting face-first onto the sidewalk. My mind was too foggy for me to properly discern what I'd been thinking about; all I wanted to do was take a nap.

     I was supposed to be at a birthday party. One of the triplets' friends had invited them over, and I went with them to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble. The problem was, while I was sitting at the kitchen counter watching the birthday boy open his presents, I somehow fell asleep—on top of a bowl of trail mix. The boy's mother insisted she could look after my siblings and told me to go home and rest. She said I looked 'half-dead' and probably needed to take some medicine for those 'dark circles' under my eyes. It wasn't my fault I'd been up all night last night. Avery had kept me up asking questions about the light in the sky.

     I still had no idea what that was all about.

     You can imagine, then, my surprise, when I walked in my front door and saw all the Ninja gathered in my dining room.

     I turned and looked back in the driveway. Sure enough, their cars were there. How had I missed that? A pulse shuddered through my brain, causing me to wince from the migraine. Oh yeah, I was sleep-deprived. I wondered if anyone would mind if I snuck into the kitchen to grab some headache pills.

     I don't think anyone noticed me because no one said my name. I snuck through the kitchen's second entry to get in it (I didn't want to bother them) and started rummaging through the cabinets to find the heavy-duty migraine pills. And that's when I heard the reason as to why there was a great light in the sky.

     "After many years of waiting, a great sign you shall see.

     Then Oni and Light's son must face his destiny.

     But be warned, to defeat the darkness you must have three things:

     A key, a sacrifice, and a voice that sings.

     Then the tides shall turn in favor of the light,

     And purge this world of its eternal night."

     The bottle of pills fell from my hand, hitting the floor with a loud crash.

     Before I knew what was going on, literally every single parent had found a way into the kitchen and was pestering me with questions.

     "How much did you hear?"

     "How long have you been here?"

     "You said they'd be gone, Cole!"

     "You're supposed to be at a birthday party!"

     "Why are you sneaking around your own house?"

     Whywhatwhenwherehow—

     "Enough."

     Arms wrapped around my shoulders, shielding me from the faces and questions and pestering words. I leaned back into Father, grateful for his intercession. He calmly led us out of the kitchen, sitting me down in one of the pulled-out dining room chairs.

     Kneeling down in front of me, he offered me the pills I'd dropped.

     "Peak," he asked quietly, "how much do you need to know?"

     I told him that I'd been sent home, but he waved those words away. "I know you desperately need a nap, Peak. I need to know how much you heard, and how much you want to be trusted with."

     "I just heard the weird rhyming message thing," I replied, trying my hardest to ignore the tittering parents in the background. They were murmuring amongst themselves with worried expressions, not even trying to be discreet with their glances at us. "I don't understand everything it said."

     "That is a prophecy," Father met my eyes. His voice was low, but it'd always been quieter ever since... "but it's only half of it. If you can promise to keep this quiet, I will tell you the full version."

     "Okay," I agreed, mostly because nothing was making sense to me. I just wanted to go upstairs and sleep before I had to pick the triplets up.

     "The tides have turned from bad to worse.

     But, upon this land there is no curse.

     Only fate can tell and destiny can decide,

     Which side will prevail and which side will divide.

     A great evil shall come to conquer the land.

     Oni and Light's son shall rise forth to take a stand.

     And Time's Overlord will fall to his end.

     After many years of waiting, a great sign you shall see.

     Then Oni and Light's son must face his destiny.

     But be warned, to defeat the darkness you must have three things:

     A key, a sacrifice, and a voice that sings.

     Then the tides shall turn in favor of the light,

     And purge this world of its eternal night."

     The world was silent as I processed the message. My head was pounding and my eyelids felt like weights; the only thing I could focus on was Father's steady breathing. After a few seconds, Lloyd stepped forward out of the mass of parents gathered at the dining room entryway. Harumi had a hand wrapped around his arm as she peeked out from behind him.

     "Do you understand what this means?" Lloyd asked gently.

     "If it's a prophecy, then it means... a big bad guy is coming to destroy us. And only the 'son of Oni and Light' can beat him," I looked around, blinking rapidly to keep the sleep away. "Was that right?"

     Lloyd and Harumi nodded in unison, which sent everyone behind them into a tizzy.

     "We were so careful!" Kai was whisper-yelling to someone, "and then someone forgot to lock the front door."

     I hated how their faces paled, like I had just walked in on a plot to murder the mayor. They acted like this prophecy was a bad thing, rather than a fruitful warnin—oh. Oh.

     "This is why you've been training us all these years for a villain that never seemed to come," I said, sitting up straight. Father's jaw tightened. "You've known about this for a while."

     "Yes," Father blew at the dark strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes. His tone was serious, unflinching.

     "Do you know who the son of Oni and Light is?"

      Harumi stepped forward, kneeling down in front of me like Father. She placed a hand against my knee, looking extremely uncomfortable as she said, "I am the Oni from the prophecy. Lloyd is the Light."

     It took me a few seconds to get that through my foggy brain. Harumi was an Oni. Weren't Oni demons or something? Was I misinterpreting? I mean, prophecies often had riddles that weren't literal. Harumi certainly didn't look like a demon...

     Then it clicked as to why this was all so secret. If this prophecy really was a prophecy, then either Shade or Morro qualified as the one to defeat Big Bad. Unless son meant child, then Ver could possibly be the one.

     Three children. Three potential prophecy fulfillers.

     Oh, the chaos that knowledge could cause.

     "You understand why they never told anyone," Zane commented.

     Blankly, I nodded.

     "We couldn't have Morro and Shade working against each other to fight for the title of the destined son," Harumi said quietly, "It would tear our family apart."

     She patted my knee twice and stepped back to Lloyd's side. The adults filtered out across the dining room again, looking noticeably more nervous than usual.

      "Peak, I don't mind if you sit here for the rest of our meeting," Father said, "but you have to promise us that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Not the triplets, not Aureole or Storm, not anyone. We can't have this getting out. The Overlord could have eyes and ears everywhere."

     "Overlord? As in, the dude-who-nearly-succeeded-in-taking-over-Ninjago-twice Overlord?" I yelped, scrambling back.

     It took Father a couple minutes to calm me down, attempt then fail to sweeten the reality of our situation, and repeat his plea that I not tell anyone else.

     The Overlord. The biggest bad Ninjago had ever faced. We were supposed to fight him.

     I don't care how much we'd trained over the years.

     We were going to get whomped.

     I repeated my promise from earlier as the adults took their seats. My words were numb; I thought I might be going into a partial shock. It wasn't every day you were told you'd have to face a horrifying villain-from-your-parents'-past. None of them looked convinced by my verse, but I could tell Father was reassured.

     As much as I wanted to crawl upstairs and lay down, I had a feeling I had only scratched the surface of important information we needed to know. There had to be something to help us beat the Overlord. Didn't the prophecy say something about three things?

    "The great sign just flashed in the sky," Kai returned to the center of attention, waving crinkly papers around. "It won't be long before the Overlord reappears with a plan to wipe us all out."

     That was comforting.

     "We have to train harder; he could come at any day," Kai returned to his speech. "We'll have to give it our all. I know Aureole can hold her Spinjitzu for ten seconds now, and Shade's already mastered it. Given the rest of the kids can keep practicing, and maybe unlock their true potentials somewhere along the way—"

     "You'd have to be really lucky for that," snorted Nya, leaning back in her chair.

     "—we can take him down just because there are so many of us. The only question is: since weapons can't pierce his scales, and there is no outside weak point on him, how are we going to kill him?"

     I was never going to be able to sleep after that tidbit of information.

     "We cannot just kill him, Kai," PIXAL stated. "The prophecy dictates that we shall need a key, a sacrifice, and a voice that sings. Those items might present us with an opportunity."

     "What she's saying is that we need to search out these prophesized items," Jay translated, waving his arms around. "So, does anyone have a clue where to start?"

     "Anyone can sing, and a key is vaguely generic," Skylor huffed from her seat. "Your Erasmus friend isn't making things easy for us."

     "That's not mentioning the sacrifice," Kai said from above her.

     "Another sacrifice," Father sighed, his eyes nailed to the window behind the table. "There's always got to be a sacrifice."

     Everyone in the room quieted. Harumi looked misty eyed, and Zane took off his hat. I realized they must be thinking of the original Morro. I didn't know much about him, other than he had saved Harumi's life by sacrificing his own. To repay his ultimate sacrifice, Harumi had named her firstborn after him.

     The silence stretched thin, until Lloyd broke it by clearing his throat. "Well... I think the old library downtown would be a good place to start. I heard the librarians are good at helping people find obscure information. Maybe giving them a few clues could help us go from there."

     "We'll start searching for information tomorrow," Zane said. "Until then, just let the kids finish finals week and focus more on their training."

     Everyone agreed with that, which caused the meeting to conclude rather quickly. Harumi made me promise one last time that I wouldn't say a word, to which I swallowed back the lump in my throat and said the words she wanted to hear.

     I only had one question in return.

     "When do you plan on telling Shade and Morro?"

     Neither her nor Lloyd had an answer to that. I could only hope that the falsehoods hanging the Garmadon twins wouldn't become the very thing Lloyd and Harumi wished to avoid.

Ver.

     I tossed in my sleep, hearing the name repeated in my head over and over.

     Ver.

     "What do you want?" I grumbled, sitting up. My sheets were crumpled into a ball at the end of my bed—victims of a lot of tossing and turning. I frowned at the sight. Tomorrow morning, I would start the dreaded finals week at school, and I was trying to get a decent night of sleep for that. Almost instantly my frustration was redirected at the spirit. Normally he didn't bother me at night, so this better be important.

     The spirit walked through the wall of my closet, his hand on his chin. He didn't seem to notice me, as he was pacing back and forth next to the door.

     Ver.

     "Quit talking into my head!"

     The spirit looked up, surprise lighting up his eyes. "I didn't realize you were awake."

     "How am I supposed to sleep when you're talking into my head?" I snapped, attempting to rearrange the mess of sheets back into place.

     "I wasn't talking into your head. You know I only do that when it's absolutely necessary," he looked so confused it made me want to hurl a pillow at him. Why did he have to bother me, tonight of all nights?

     I fell back into the mattress, my arms splayed out. "Maybe I really am going crazy."

     We fell into silence, the only sound in the humid air being the katydids chirping outside.

     He spoke first, breaking any hope I had of him leaving me alone. "Actually, it's a good thing you are awake. I had something I wanted to discuss with you."

     "Great." Maybe if I fell back asleep, then he would go away. I squeezed my eyes shut, turning over on my side.

     "I can tell you what is tethering us."

     As much as those simple words grabbed my attention, I squeezed my eyes shut. He could tell me tomorrow. If I didn't get enough sleep for finals week, then I was going to fail all my tests. And failing school grades was apparently another symptom of schizophrenia. When I didn't respond, the spirit continued, "If you would just come outside with me—"

     "Hold it," I sat up again, raising an eyebrow at him. "It's unacceptable to even think about training at night without adult supervision, but if I need to take a nightly excursion with you it's perfectly fine? That doesn't seem controversial."

     He clenched his teeth, obviously annoyed, but relaxed himself before he could respond. "I understand your line of thinking. Yet, you know the only time I appear to you in physical form is at night. Didn't you also say you wanted to destroy our line of connection?"

     He made a fair point. Plus, I didn't think he was going to leave this alone, so I should give up the dream of sleep now.

     "Alright," I conceded, sliding out of bed and pulling a light jacket over my nightgown. "Just tell me where you need me to go."

>(<>)<

It was easy to sneak out. If I had any close friends to talk to about my nightly adventures, then they'd probably think I was crazy. Father had a nice alarm system installed around the house. If anyone opened a door or window after a certain time of night, then the whole house would start screaming out an ear-wrenching alarm. The disabling remote for the system was in Father's room, but there was no way I was trying to sneak in there. He had the tendency to wake at the smallest unfamiliar noises.

     The nice thing about my room was that it had the only link to our barren and unused attic. The space was mainly there for the workers who came every now and then when the air-conditioner stopped working. I climbed to the top of my dresser and slid the slot open. It took a bit of maneuvering to pull myself through the opening, but eventually I was in the attic.

     It was hot, humid, and littered with spiderwebs. We didn't store anything up here; it was essentially wasted space. I clicked on a flashlight, slid the opening slot shut behind me, and crawled forward. There was a singular window in the attic that had no purpose other than exterior design. The attic wasn't even big enough to stand up in, so why did the architects decide a window was a good idea?

     I don't know, but it sure did help me. Father didn't even think about that window because it had no point. Anyone who broke into the attic would find nothing, and in the dark (if you weren't sure where to look), there was no way of finding the opening to get into my room. It was the only exit out of the house the alarms didn't cover.

    I grunted as I forced it open, slid out a premade rope of spare fabric and old clothes, and made my way out of the house.

     The spirit followed me out to the training yard silently, watching the area around us. Grass turned to rock beneath my feet as we neared the trees that surrounded the property. An owl hooted somewhere within the foliage, probably calling out to its family.

     I pushed through branch after branch until we reached a small meadow only about five minutes away. It wasn't that far away from the house. In fact, it was just outside the property. No one ever went there anymore, however, so it was a place of solitude.

     No one wanted to come there, simply because it held too many bad memories. Even the spirit seemed awed by what laid before him.

     The meadow had been stripped of life. There was no grass, only dry soil, the trees were withered limbs and bark, the only sound came from starved rats scurrying about trying to find food, and mushrooms grew all over the place, feeding on the decayed substances. Several small gravestones were scattered next to the trees, memorable marks to show what animals had died during the snap. Shade had done it to purge himself of the guilt. I wasn't sure if it helped at all. Even though it had been years since the meadow was turned into this, it still couldn't find it within itself to recover. Shade hated this place more than anywhere in the world. It was his fault that it was like this.

     "No one will bother us here," I said, sitting down on the hard soil. The spirit remained standing, sadly looking around the decayed scenery. The night breeze nipped at my arms with its full force, unhindered by nonexistent leaves. I was glad I had brought a jacket. Even the air was dry and lifeless in this place.

     The spirit sat down in front of me, his eyes clouded. He seemed to be in pain, as if he knew what was coming next wouldn't be good. "Have you ever noticed anything strange with the wind? That you can translate it more carefully than others? Like sometimes it's trying to speak to you, but you don't understand its language?"

     He almost looked sheepish when I stared at him, aghast.

     "You're going insane," I retorted, picking at the rocks in the soil. "Wind acting strange? Wind talking to me? I know I'm mentally challenged, but I'm not that mentally challenged."

     He sighed, "Your mother was given the elemental power of wind when she was younger. I believe that this power has been passed down to you."

     I was stuck between wanting to roll my eyes and wondering why I had to find this out now. He was acting like he'd known for a while, which left me wondering why he was revealing all this so suddenly. If he was going to wait, couldn't he have at least waited until I was done with finals week?

     "I was tethered to the wind once. Then, I was tethered to your mother. Now, I'm tethered to you. That can't be a coincidence."

     "I thought you said no one could see you before me," I countered. "If you were connected to my mother, then why doesn't she believe you exist?"

     "It's complicated," he responded quietly, avoiding my eyes. "And it doesn't matter in the long run—"

     "Oh, so the rest of the world thinking I'm going insane doesn't matter. I see how it is."

     "Ver, we're here to talk about why we're connected, not to argue about your sanity—"

     "I think those two things have a tiny correlation—"

     "Would you quit being difficult?!"

     "Why don't you quit being difficult!" I bellowed, very much wanting to shove him off a cliff. "Maybe things wouldn't be so hard if you just sat down and explained things instead of being so vague."

    The spirit made a bunch of disgruntled noises and clutched his forehead so hard it looked like it hurt.

     After a few seconds, he seemed to find some words.

     "Look, Ver, I know how much you wanted to be an elemental master like your brothers. I know how much it hurts to watch them grow up being able to do fancy things and not be able to do that yourself. If we really are connected through the elemental mastery of wind, then I could train you to be powerful like them. Isn't that what you've always wanted?" his words were weak, as if he wasn't sure he could put up with another argument.

     I didn't want to hope, nor did I want to make him feel any better about himself. "This is just a guess."

     "Nothing with me is a guess," he replied, not meeting my eyes again. "If we get this over with now, then you will be back in bed with another few good hours to sleep. If you keep resisting me, then we'll be here all night."

     "You forget you are tethered to me. You are not in charge here," I bit back, not caring how much he looked like he was going to explode with choice words directed at me.

     "Will you just play along for five minutes?" He looked about ready to beg, and somewhere within me I took pity on him.

     "Five minutes," I agreed sullenly, clearing the dirt from beneath my fingernails.

     "Okay," the spirit sighed, crossing his legs, "I need you to meditate for me."

     I closed my eyes, trying to banish all the thoughts in my head about how stupid his voice sounded. If he started speaking into my mind, I was going to march straight to the library to figure out how to throw him into a river.

     "I need you to take deep breaths and feel for the wind. I want you to listen to it. If you don't hear anything now, that's okay; I just need you to listen."

     Breathe in. Breathe out. Father always said the key to good mediation was a cup of Serenitea, but I hadn't had any of that in forever. Mother wasn't sure if magical teas would mess with the effects of the antidepressants I didn't take. I tried to ignore the yawns behind my eyes as my body complained about not being able to sleep. The moon's harsh glare lit up my eyelids, but I refused to open them to see.

     Feel the wind. How was that possible? I focused on where the faint summer breezes tickled my hands. Wind was wind. Wind didn't have a voice. Wind didn't have a song. So why did the spirit think I could hear what it was saying?

     Ver.

     The voice in my head was raspy, like it hadn't stopped screaming until now. It was darker, creepier, and more subtle on the edges of my consciousness, unlike the spirit's voice. It was like the darkest corners of my soul had produced something to speak right into my very heart. If this was a figment of my imagination, then maybe everyone was right about me.

     Ver.

     Who are you? I pushed the thought into my mind, daring the speaker to identify himself.

     I am not made of your insanity.

     "Who are you?" I seethed, my voice escaping from my lips. The spirit shushed me, telling me to listen as the nightly drifts picked up speed.

     I am as real as you are.

     WHO ARE YOU!?

     He is not lying to you. You are powerful, but you have yet to discover your potential. I can show you how to be the key to the prophecy.

     What prophecy?

     Find it and bring it to me.

     WHAT PROPHECY? I clenched the edges of my nightgown in my fists.

     Silence followed my question, leaving me with a burning anger that drove its way into my soul like a blackened coal.

     "WHAT PROPHECY?!" I roared, ripping open my eyes and getting to my feet. The spirit lurched back with shock at my outburst. I kicked the nearest pebble as far as I could, ignoring the burning in my toes for doing so.

     It was then the wind decided to pick up severely, rushing like a gale through the empty trees. I screeched at the air, lobbing another rock straight at a decayed tree. The rats who were scavenging around it scattered with scared hisses.

     Without another thought to the useless spirit, I marched off back to the house, the yearning to go back to sleep banished from my mind. There was a prophecy. And if I ever wanted to have people stop being vague, I had to find it.

     I had to figure out what was going on, so I could destroy the voices in my head and finally live in peace.