***Author’s note: Thank you SpicyReads for your love, I know I am failing you with updates. My whole house has been going through the sa sickness one right after the other, I’m the last to catch it, so these next few Chapters have been written intermitted with waves of ick.***
~ODETTE’S POV~
My gifts were amazing and the ones I gave were loved. Ambrose started reading Dune that night. In all my days with him so far, I’ve never seen him pick up any of the books he has in his room or his library. Raven had been wearing the things I gave her. Emalea adores her scarf and hasn’t taken it off. The sa goes for , even if the scarf she made didn’t match my outfit I would be wearing it.
Christmas was so beautiful, it was weird not having my family around this ti. But I did have family.
The family I made, the one I chose.
Still blows my mind how being kidnapped and held captive in a foreign kingdom gives more freedom than I had living with my own family.
Artemasia had sothing to do in the morning, so our training was postponed till later in the day, giving the rare opportunity to be lazy in the morning.
My family would be here in a few days, and the palace was buzzing with activity preparing for ’foreign dignitaries’ to visit the palace. Ambrose would be busy the next couple days, preparing and sorting through his soldiers to find the ones who would remain at the palace and guard with discretion. Damon would be training the new recruits today.
The war was fast approaching. And we had to be ready.
When the ti finally ca to et with Artemasia I was surprised to receive a note to et her at her abode and not at the training grounds we’d been working at.
She was a weirdly private witch, I wonder why she’d be inviting over?
I walked to her house from the palace; it was convenient since it wasn’t far.
She was leaning in her doorway, tapping her foot impatiently.
"You’re late." I check my watch. 2:02 pm.
"Oh, co on, it’s two minutes, the walk was nice I took more ti than I expected. I have to fight a life threatening battle, let enjoy the flowers."
"There are no flowers, it’s winter. There’s not even snow, just naked trees and dead looking grass." She narrowed her eyes at .
"Yes, here on the grounds, but look at the mountain." I pointed to the one that stood in the distance behind her. The mountain I ran up and t Phera on. It was still shrouded in mystery hidden by a storm that never stopped. But it had been lightening up, the storm looked less violent on the mountains, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with Phera leaving the mountain.
"Yeah, a mountain. With snow. So cool. Now, get inside." Artemasia stepped back from the door leaving enough room to invite in.
This is the second ti I’ve ever been in her house. And it wasn’t any less weird the second ti.
Her house was dark and mystical, sothing you’d picture straight out of the book.
"So why are we eting here instead of on the training grounds?"
Artemasia rolled her eyes "Training isn’t always combat. Odette. It’s also ntal fortitude. You’re a psychic vampire; you feed off emotions and feelings and life forces. And so does the enemy. Are you prepared to ntally battle a monster in your mother’s skin?"
The question hit like a sack of bricks. Was I ready?
No. I wasn’t. I thought about a thousand scenarios, but when I start to think too deeply, I feel the pressure start beating down on . The weight of the reality, it’s too much so I stop the scenarios.
As if reading my mind Artemasia said "Exactly. So, that’s what we’ll be working on today. Your ntal fortitude. I will place you under a sleep spell where you will practice facing Ezelreth as your mother."
"Woah, woah, woah, I was not prepared to do think kind of exercising today. It was just Christmas!" I yelled at her.
"Yes, and that’s the point you aren’t prepared. You’re less than focused. It will give us the most accurate reading on what you can do, so we know what you need to learn. To be prepared, you have to know what facing the enemy will be like if you are unprepared."
I didn’t like her logic, but I respected it. She was a great teacher; I’d gotten so much better with my magic since starting my training with her. So, I trusted her judgent and her thods, even if I didn’t agree with it.
Because sowhere beyond these walls, my mother, my sweet, gentle, soft-voiced mother, was trapped inside her own body, held hostage by an ancient monster who spoke through her mouth.
Ezelreth.
A na like a breaking bone.
A presence like a cold hand around your throat.
And if I failed, if I couldn’t learn to withstand him...
Then the next ti I saw her, I might have to choose between saving the world and letting her die or saving her to let the world burn. And that terrified .
I was forced to pick in my last life, and I had to sacrifice the one I loved to save the world, and if training with Artemasia, however weird and senseless it is too , I would do it. I would do it to save her and save the world. To not have to lose one to keep the other.
Artemisia stood in front of , tall and graceful in her black robes Her eyes held that sharp calm, like one before a storm.
She laid down on the floor in the center of a spell circle candles at each point.
"Odette," she said, voice low but iron-strong,
Artemisia crouched in front of , her face close to mine, "You must allow yourself to feel everything, Odette. But you cannot let your feelings rule you. Not in this. Especially not in this."
"Right," I whispered, though my voice shook.
"And rember, he does not simply push pain. He amplifies what already exists."
My stomach twisted.
Because I had so much for him to work with.
Anger.
Fear.
Grief.
Helplessness.
"Ready?" Artemisia asked.
No.
Not even a little.
"Yes."
"And so, we begin. Trial one."
It was then I noticed glowing runes and symbols I didn’t understand were placed strategically around . She chanted a few words and the candle lights flickered. The runes glowed brighter.
Seconds later I felt myself drift. Not like I was asleep, but like I was second bystander in my own mind.
Suddenly I stood in a my old ho hallway to my room.
"Mother?" I whispered.
A soft humming answered from down the hall.
Her humming.
It was her gentle, warm, voice. The sound that soothed every childhood nightmare.
My heart pounded. Anxiety was funneled into like a shady business deal.
"Mom"
Reviews
All reviews (0)