~ODETTE’S POV~
"One more ti," I whispered.
Artemisia looked at questioning, assessing and then nodded.
"Trial four," she murmured, "and this ti, rember who you are."
I was dropped in sowhere unfamiliar.
I stood in a white room.
But it wasn’t really a room... It was sothing else entirely.
No walls.
No ceiling.
Just endless pale light.
My mother appeared a few feet away, her real self and not her real self. That strange blend of truth and mockery.
Ezelreth didn’t bother pretending this ti.
Her eyes glowed and the dragon slit pupil prominent in her eyes. Like sothing demonic was living inside her.
Her smile was wrong. Jagged and vicious. Her posture too still. Like a statue.
The air around her was tainted and corrupted. She felt sickening to be near.
Was this how she is now?
"Odette," he whispered through my mother’s mouth. "You know you can’t win; emotions are a weakness. You will fail to destroy and save the ones you love. History always repeats itself." He chuckled using my mother’s laugh, and the sound gnawed at my ears.
This ti I was better prepared.
Because that’s where he was wrong, emotions made better. They made happy. And that’s not a fucking weakness, that’s a strength. It took 19 years apparently to realize it.
But they were the source of my strength. How I’ve been able to tap into the strongest my power can supply, for right now.
Ezelreth tilted my mother’s head mockingly. "Co now. Let’s not kid ourselves. You will fail, you will never be strong enough, fast enough, powerful enough, or good enough.
I didn’t answer.
I inhaled again.
I centered myself.
Reached for the place inside that had nothing to do with anger or fear. A place protected against my self doubt.
The place I kept locked away for survival.
The place of peace.
Ezelreth lunged.
My mother’s face, her eyes sunken, mouth jagged, expression dripping hatred. A surge of black emotion slamd into , fear sharpened into terror, anger stretched into agony.
But this ti...
I didn’t crumble.
I didn’t fight the emotion directly.
I let it wash over .
Let it pass like a wave breaking against the cliffside.
Then...
I reached inward and, in my soul, I pulled up sothing from the very bottom, like Pandora’s box. Sothing under all the lies, the doubts. It wasn’t pain or anger or force.
It was peace
A warm, golden, steady peace.
I thought of Ambrose, our future. The things untainted, because they hadn’t happened yet. He couldn’t touch them. Because they were mine.
It was hope that I found in the center.
It pulsed outward from my chest like a heartbeat.
Ezelreth snarled through my mother’s mouth, stepping back, "What... What are you... What are you doing...?"
Peace spread around like sunlight through fog.
Ezelereth’s darkness ripped back, withdrawing quickly like he’d been burned.
"This is my mind," I said, and my voice didn’t shake. "My ground. My rules."
He tried again, pushing fear like a spear into my ribs.
I let it land, felt it, acknowledged it.
Then swallowed it in that warm, golden glow.
Was this how my mother’s power worked originally?
"You cannot harm with what I already accept," I whispered. "And you cannot use her against , because I know she isn’t here. I know the things you say aren’t true."
I narrowed my eyes and smiled. Creating a taphorical spear of my own and jabbing Ezelreth through the chest. Letting the feelings of peace and hope flood his veins.
My mother’s figure cracked like a shattered mirror, revealing a monstrous shadow beneath.
Ezelreth scread. A haunting, furious, and echoing sound.
"You have no power here!"
And I pushed in harder.
Heat filled the white room.
Soft. Steady. Beautiful.
Peace and hope expanded outward until the entire world crumbled into dust.
Silence fell. Light swallowed everything.
And I opened my eyes.
Artemisia was kneeling in front of staring with the faintest smirk on her face.
"You did it," she whispered. "You held your ground and found your center. You kicked out of your mind and kept from taking control of you."
I nodded, breathing hard, sweat soaked, and exhausted but I was steady. I felt good. Proud of myself even.
I felt like I understood more of how my mother’s mind gift worked, how her tradeoff with her feedings.
"I can face him," I said softly.
"You can," Artemisia agreed. "And you will. Because you don’t have a choice."
She didn’t look relieved, and even though I felt better, we both knew that no training session could change the fact he next ti I faced Ezelreth...
He wouldn’t be a spell.
He would be wearing my mother’s body, and it would be real.
And I would have ready. To be strong enough, powerful enough and in control enough to save her without destroying her.
The thought should have terrified .
Instead, it hardened .
Because now I knew what my true strength was.
Not fury. Not vengeance. Not raw power.
But peace. Hope.
The ability to soothe even the darkest heart. And I would use that strength to bring my mother ho.
No matter what it cost.
"You didn’t do too bad. I won’t say I’m impressed. But, you did alright." Artemasia actually freely offering complints.
How rare.
"Thanks, I want to keep practicing on another day. But use different forms than my mother."
"You think he would shift his form? That is not a bad thing to prepare for. It is in the mind, and the mind can be bent and twisted." She gave acknowledgent.
What....
"Are you okay, you don’t usually dish out complints like a buffet. I’m lucky to get any comnt that’s not harsh or sarcastic from you."
"Yeah well, take it or leave it. Now, get out of my house, I have a bunch to clean up and you need a ntal break. Take it easy tonight. Feeding may heal the physical strain on your brain, but not the emotional toll." She warned before kicking out.
"I don’t feel that bad, it’s not real."
"Oh, but... You will."
Reviews
All reviews (0)