“Well that’s interesting,” Kira’s father examined the bracelet on Ophelia’s wrist thoughtfully. “I guess Alsia really likes you.”
“I’ve seen something like that before,” Kira said. “I’m sure I have.”
“Not in this life,” he said. “If you do remember seeing one then it’s an errant memory. It’s about time, I was starting to worry.”
“Errant memory?” Ophelia asked.
“Kirala is in transition,” he explained. “But she should hit maturity in the year or so. I would have expected previous life memories to have started occassionally floating but this is the first.”
“You reincarnate?” Sera asked.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not in the sense you mean. Under extreme physical stress we can knock ourselves back to infancy.”
“Uh?” Sera shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” he said. “It’s not simple to explain.”
“And not really relavent,” Kira said. “What does that thing do? I’m sure that it’s not just a memory aid or token of her esteem.”
Tilaran snorted at his daughter’s vehemence. “No. It’s not. Let me show you.” He reached out his hand and a book flew to it from the bookshelf. He flipped through the pages before laying it down on the table they were seated around. Light sprang from the open pages and an image of a similar bracelet floated above the page. The main difference was that this bracelet seemed to be made of solid red light rather than blue ice.
“That’s it!” Kira exclaimed. “That’s the one I remember!” She grabbed the book, revealing the floating image was projected from a drawing on the page, and began reading the caption. “What?!” she exclaimed after a moment.
“What is it?” Ophelia asked.
“That’s really cool,” Sera added. “Sort of like a magical hologram.” She leaned in to get a closer look. “I can’t read your language. What does it say?” She pointed at the strange symbols on the page. “At least I assume that’s your language.”
“It is,” Tilaran said. “Though we didn’t develop true writing until after we left Taloa. We never needed it.”
“We had better ways of preserving knowledge and communication,” Kira’s grandmother said. “Writing, for us, started out as a combination of cipher and asthetic pleasure, it served more to confuse than communicate. But then we discovered the joy in skilled calligraphy. It’s still mostly embellishment. Touch the page and open your mind.”
Ophelia looked at her and then did as she suggested. A welter of images surged into her mind, knocking her back slightly. “Woah!” She took a breath and tried again. This time she managed to control the flow and take in what it was saying. She was vaguely aware of Sera doing the same thing.
“So this is protective?” Ophelia fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist.
“It is,” Tilaran said. “Only the idri can make them and they only give them to those they consider kin. Family, students and close friends usually. It’s sort of odd she’d give you one.”