A Mind Unveiled
Celeste moved forward with purpose, her arms burdened by a teetering stack of books she’d retrieved from the depths of her extendable bag. Her steps were sure as she approached the children’s room.
“Helaena!” Celeste’s voice rang out in a lilting, sing-song tone as she entered. The maids cleaning the room straightened at the sound, only to be swiftly dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I have something for you.”
Helaena’s eyes lifted from her embroidery, her gaze distant and unfocused. Celeste’s brows knit together in concern, her approach softening. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry.
“I’m afraid,” Helaena admitted, doubt clouding her features. Her voice was quiet, hesitant. “I’m afraid of the rats.”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed in understanding. She’d seen that distant stare and those cryptic words before. It wasn’t rodents Helaena feared. It was something far more ominous—a warning, a premonition of looming danger.
“Well,” Celeste began, her tone light but her eyes steady with resolve. She guided Helaena toward the table near the window. Jahearya played contentedly with her toys in the center of the room, her little giggles filling the air, while Maelor slept soundly in his crib, undisturbed. Celeste’s stack of books thudded softly onto the table’s surface. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve brought these.”
Helaena’s gaze sharpened, her eyes drawn to the books now spread before her. Her fingers brushed over the embossed titles, curiosity sparking behind her eyes as she read them aloud, one by one.
The Eye Unveiled: A Beginner's Guide to Second Sight , Tea Leaves to True Visions: The Seer's Journey from Signs to Certainty and Dreams and Destinies: Unlocking the Secrets of Nocturnal Visions.
Her lips moved as she mouthed the words, her fingers pausing on the last title. Celeste watched her closely, noting the renewed focus in Helaena’s eyes.
“I brought most of the library from Grimmauld Place, my fathers home back in my world,” Celeste explained, adjusting the books so they lay flat and orderly. “And a good portion of my own collection too.” Her fingers tapped lightly on the covers. “I used to think Professor Trelawney was as batty as the rest of them, to be honest.” Her grin was fleeting but genuine. “But looking back, I realized she actually knew what she was talking about. So I started reading… just in case.” She shrugged, her gaze briefly distant with memory. “Didn’t do much for me, though. Seems I’m not exactly destined for the Seer’s path.” She chuckled softly, though there was no bitterness in it—only acceptance. “Still, I’d say it’s about to pay off.”
Helaena’s hands drifted over the books, her face softening with quiet resolve. Celeste leaned back, a flicker of satisfaction in her chest. If anyone could make sense of the warnings lurking in Helaena’s visions, it would be her. Together, they might stand a chance against whatever darkness was creeping closer.
Helaena tilted her head, looking at the books curiously. “What exactly are we doing?”
“Helaena,” Celeste said softly, leaning forward. “Do you know what divination is?”
Helaena blinked slowly, turning her head toward Celeste. Her pale eyes were clear but curious, as if she’d only just realised she was being spoken to. “Divination?” she repeated softly, tilting her head like a curious bird.
“Yes,” Celeste said, her voice warm but firm. “It’s a kind of magic.”
That word—magic—still made Helaena’s eyes widen with quiet wonder. Her gaze sharpened. She leaned forward, her hands clasping together lightly in her lap.
“Tell me,” Helaena said quietly, her voice filled with soft eagerness. “Tell me about it.”
Celeste smiled at the Princess. “Back home, we have something called Seers. They’re people adept in Divination, which is the art of seeing beyond the present,” She explained slowly, letting each word settle like stones on water. “It’s about glimpsing the future, finding hidden truths and reading the threads of fate that connect all things.”
Helaena blinked slowly, her lips parting just slightly. “Like my dreams,” she murmured, tilting her head as if considering it for the first time.
“Yes,” Celeste said softly, her smile growing. “Exactly like your dreams.” She leaned forward, her eyes steady on Helaena’s. “It’s like looking into a still pond. If you’re calm, you can see the reflection clearly. But if you disturb the water — if you’re anxious, scared, or trying too hard — the ripples will hide everything.”
Helaena’s eyes flickered with understanding, her gaze turning distant once more as she tilted her head to the side. “Like threads in a loom,” she murmured softly. “If you pull too tightly, the weave will break.”
Celeste’s breath caught. Her heart swelled with quiet pride.
“Exactly,” she said, her voice firmer now, more certain. “That’s exactly it.”
Her gaze softened as she studied Helaena, the way she sat with her fingers loosely tangled in her lap, her head tilted just slightly as if listening to something no one else could hear. Celeste had seen people like this before. Seers. Prophets. People who walked too close to the edge of fate.
But none of them had ever been like Helaena.
“Helaena,” Celeste said gently, reaching out to place a hand over hers. “I think you’re a seer.”
The princess blinked slowly, her eyes wide with quiet confusion. “A seer?” she echoed, her voice light as a feather.
Celeste nodded slowly, her gaze unwavering. “Yes. It explains the things you’ve said. The things you’ve seen.” She squeezed Helaena’s hand gently, grounding her. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? Those moments where the world feels... distant. Like you’re watching it from outside yourself.”
Helaena’s breath hitched, her eyes flicking to the side. Her lips parted, but no sound came at first.
“I thought I was broken,” she whispered finally, her voice raw and fragile. Her gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers twisting anxiously in the fabric of her gown. “Mother said I was... different.” Her voice cracked slightly, her breath uneven. “She says I should stay quiet. That it makes people uneasy when I speak.”
“You’re not broken,” Celeste said fiercely, her eyes blazing with quiet fury. “You’re gifted, Helaena. You have something precious, something no one else can understand.” She leaned forward, tilting her head to meet Helaena’s downturned gaze. “Don’t mistake their fear for wisdom. They fear what they don’t understand.”
Helaena blinked, her breath shaky as she glanced up at Celeste. Her lips quivered, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
“You’re certain?” she asked softly, her voice trembling. “You’re sure it’s not just madness?”
Celeste let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Madness?” she echoed, her tone firm but kind. “Madness doesn’t come with patterns, Helaena. It doesn’t come with threads that weave together perfectly.”
Her eyes locked onto Helaena’s, steady as stone. “What you have is clarity, Helaena. More clarity than most of the people sitting on that council.”
A small, breathy laugh escaped Helaena, soft and short but real. Her shoulders relaxed, and for a moment, she looked lighter.
Celeste leaned back slightly, keeping her gaze on Helaena. “You’ve seen things.” she said softly, her voice gentle but purposeful. “You’ve seen things you didn’t understand.”
Helaena’s lips parted, her gaze distant once more. Her fingers twitched slightly in her lap, plucking at invisible threads.
“The beast beneath the boards,” she murmured, her eyes flicking to Celeste’s face.
Celeste’s nodded, thinking back on that day.
She knew what Helaena had seen that day. She’d seen it too. The way the floor had shattered. The beast rising from beneath the boards. Rhaenys and Meleys. Fire and blood.
“You saw it before it happened,” Celeste whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe. “That’s prophecy, Helaena. No one else saw it, but you did.”
Helaena blinked slowly, her fingers still twitching lightly, like they were plucking at an unseen loom.
“Sometimes, I see them before I sleep,” she admitted softly, her voice distant and hollow. “Things that don’t make sense. Pieces that don’t fit.” She glanced at Celeste, her gaze sharp and clear. “But they always fit later.”
“Because they’re threads,” Celeste said, leaning forward, her eyes filled with quiet certainty. “Each thread is part of the whole. The pieces don’t have to fit right away. They only need to exist.”
Helaena blinked slowly, her fingers still twitching lightly, like they were plucking at an unseen loom.
“Sometimes, I see them before I sleep,” she admitted softly, her voice distant and hollow. “Things that don’t make sense. Pieces that don’t fit.” She glanced at Celeste, her gaze sharp and clear. “But they always fit later.”
“Because they’re threads,” Celeste said, leaning forward, her eyes filled with quiet certainty. “Each thread is part of the whole. The pieces don’t have to fit right away. They only need to exist.”
Helaena tilted her head, her fingers idly toying with the hem of her sleeve. “So, you think you can help me see better?” she asked softly, her voice filled with quiet doubt. “The visions come on their own. I don’t choose them.”
“I know,” Celeste replied gently, her eyes steady. “But that doesn’t mean you’re powerless.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “We may not be able to control when the visions come, but we can help you focus. We can sharpen your mind, strengthen your defenses, and make it easier for you to understand what you’re seeing.”
Helaena blinked, her fingers stilling. “How?”
Celeste smiled faintly, her hands moving to the first book in the stack. The cover of The Eye Unveiled: A Beginner's Guide to Second Sight was a faded lilac colour, silver script naming it and an eye pictured on the front.
“Through practice,” she said simply, placing the book to a marked page. “And patience.”
Helaena’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I’m good at patience.”
“I know,” Celeste said, her voice warm. “That’s why this will work.”
–
The first exercise was simple.
Celeste placed a small silver coin between them, its surface worn smooth but still faintly reflective. The firelight caught on its surface, casting tiny glimmers across the room.
“This is about focus,” Celeste explained, her voice calm and even. “I want you to clear your mind and look at the coin. Don’t think about anything else — not your visions, not the past, not the future. Just the coin.”
Helaena tilted her head, her pale eyes flicking to the coin. Her brow furrowed slightly.
“It’s... difficult,” she admitted softly after a moment, her voice tinged with frustration. “My mind doesn’t quiet. It never does.”
“That’s why we’re doing this,” Celeste replied gently, her voice steady and patient. “Close your eyes if it helps. Focus on your breathing. Let everything else fall away.”
Helaena hesitated, but then she closed her eyes, her hands resting lightly on her knees. Her breaths came slowly, deliberately.
Celeste watched her carefully, her own breath slowing to match Helaena’s rhythm. She reached out with her magic, the faintest trace of her presence brushing against Helaena’s mind — a soft nudge, nothing more.
“You’re safe here,” Celeste said softly, her voice like a lullaby. “There’s nothing to fear. No one will hurt you. Just focus.”
Helaena’s brow smoothed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Her breathing grew steadier.
After a moment, she opened her eyes, her gaze fixing on the coin. Her eyes seemed brighter now, more focused.
“It’s clearer,” Helaena said softly, her voice tinged with quiet wonder. “Everything else feels... far away.”
Celeste smiled, a small flicker of pride warming her chest. “Good. That’s the first step.”
The next exercise was harder.
Celeste placed her hands gently on Helaena’s temples, her touch light and careful. “This is going to feel strange,” she warned softly. “But trust me, alright?”
Helaena nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her eyes flicked up to meet Celeste’s, filled with quiet apprehension but no fear.
Celeste closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath as she reached out with her magic. She’d learned Occlumency and Legilimency as a necessity in her old life, tools to survive in a world where every thought could be a weapon. Now, she would use them to help, not harm.
Her mind brushed against Helaena’s like a soft wave lapping at the shore. She didn’t push. She didn’t intrude. She simply lingered at the edges, offering quiet reassurance.
“Think of a vision you’ve had,” Celeste said softly, her voice steady and calm. “Something clear. Something you remember.”
Helaena’s breath hitched slightly, her hands curling against her lap. Her thoughts flickered like the flutter of dragonfly wings.
“There is a beast beneath the boards,” Helaena murmured, her voice distant, her gaze unfocused. “I saw it before... in the throne room. Fire. Death.”
Celeste’s chest tightened, but she didn’t let it show. Her magic remained steady, a gentle anchor.
“What else did you see?” Celeste asked softly, her voice like a steady drumbeat. “What came before the fire?”
Helaena’s breaths grew sharper, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. Her mind trembled beneath Celeste’s touch, wild and untamed.
“I don’t know,” Helaena whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s always so broken. So jumbled.”
“It’s alright,” Celeste said gently, her magic softening its grip. “You don’t have to force it. Just let it come to you.”
Helaena’s breathing slowed, her mind settling like a still pond. The broken fragments began to align, faint whispers and images flickering at the edges of her consciousness.
“A shadow,” Helaena murmured, her voice distant. “Wings. Teeth. And...” Her voice faltered, her breath hitching.
“And?” Celeste prompted softly, her magic steadying the tremor in Helaena’s thoughts.
“A boy,” Helaena whispered, her voice trembling. “He falls. There’s no sound. No one hears him.”
Celeste’s heart ached, but she didn’t waver. Her magic steadied Helaena’s mind, offering comfort and clarity.
“You’re doing well, Helaena,” Celeste said softly, her voice warm and encouraging. “You’re stronger than you think.”
Helaena’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting Celeste’s. There was a flicker of gratitude in her expression, mixed with quiet exhaustion.
“Thank you,” Helaena murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s ever tried to help me before.”
Celeste’s chest tightened, her heart aching for the fragile girl before her. “You’re not alone,” she said firmly, her eyes steady. “You’ll never be alone again.”
For the first time, Helaena smiled. A small, genuine smile that softened her usually distant expression.
And for the first time, Celeste felt like she was making a difference. A real difference.