The sun had risen, but the monastery was silent, save for the soft whispers of the wind. Lily sat in the refectory for lunch, surrounded by [Monks], but feeling as if she was back on the black mountain range, terribly alone and lost.

Why Hadrian?

A [Healer] had been called from the Citadel and had just arrived, taken by Marcus to Hadrian’s quarters to check on the man. What Arcadius had told her, however, wasn’t boding well: it was a disease. Light Magic had no power over diseases. When she had still been in control of [Minor Healing], she had tried to use Light Magic in unconventional ways, ways that could have been potentially weaponized, but it had never worked. The boundaries of magic were not flexible at all. One could enhance their properties through understanding, but it was seemingly impossible to make them flexible in terms of use.

Wait, the black veins!

An image flashed before Lily’s eyes: the black veins that appeared on her skin after attempting to learn [Meditation] spread onto Hadrian barely a week ago, the day the man had accepted to teach her. Had they spread from her to him? Was that what caused the disease, the black veins?

“Oh, no,” she muttered, looking around as if someone could immediately spot the guilt on her face, fearful of the consequences if she had indeed been the one to give him this disease.

If that were the cause, then she was responsible for it. And that meant she needed to address the situation.

How? If they can’t heal Hadrian... I can’t produce antibiotics or modern medicine here. Hadrian knew something about alchemy, but if he can’t administer the right potion to himself, how can I do it?

Still, Lily wanted to do something.

Maybe I can explain to him what pneumonia is. Maybe if he learns more about medicine, he can do something?

Yes, she told herself. That was the thing to do: she needed to get to Hadrian and tell him as much as she could about lungs, diseases, immunology, and everything that could help the man get back on his feet. In a world where magic abounded, there was no way she was going to let the only person who had helped get closer to a solution to her woes die like a dog.

Finally, after mulling over her options and resolving herself to go up to Hadrian, she saw Marcus enter the refectory with a much tinier person in tow. It was a normal-sized human, but he might as well have been a dwarf inside this place.

He was actually even shorter than Lily, who had barely noticed she had grown a few more centimeters since coming here. But when she squinted her eyes, Lily’s heart jumped as she recognized the [Healer].

It was her Godmother, Gentiliana.

...

“Aurora,” Gentiliana let out a sign into Lily’s golden hair, unrelenting in her hug. The middle-aged woman squeezed her for her dear life until the thin girl started to whimper in discomfort. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine,” Lily said urgently. “Are you here to see Hadrian?!”

“Aurora, your aunt—”

“Shush, Marcus,” Gentiliana snapped at the big [Monk] with a frown. “I’m talking to my niece; do not interrupt me.”

The man suddenly stood straighter and nodded, “pardon me, Lady Gentiliana.”

Lily had rarely seen her aunt snap like that, and she felt the same energy of a grizzly bear protecting her cubs as the woman palmed her toward a bench.

“Please, let my niece sit with me,” she said to a [Monk] who immediately got up and took his plate away.

“Marcus, get the girl some more food. She looks like you’ve been starving her,” she told the tall man and then turned to her, “have they, dear?”

“No, no,” Lily said frantically. “What about Hadrian? Is he okay?”

This time, Gentiliana took a second to size her up and sigh, “I’ve just checked on him. He’s unconscious and unresponsive to everything—comatose, effectively. Whatever he caught, it’s wreaking havoc in his body.”

“B—but,” Lily hyperventilated. “He’s unconscious?!”

“Dear,” Gentiliana caressed her cheek, “he is. Is he your friend?”

“I—I...” Lily was speechless, gulping down some tears and nodding, “yes, he is.”

...

Gentiliana asked for updates on everything she had missed, including Lily’s time at the Papal Estate. It was clear that she was quite upset that her father had to send her away to the monastery, but her aunt also shared a few of Lucianus’s concerns.

“Your father has sadly anticipated that the Necromonarchy would start targeting the Citadel, dear. Several [Healers] have died in their homes already. The conflict is getting worse by the day, with talks of the [Pope] himself to take the battlefield.”

Lily shuddered, knowing what that meant: once the highest-level fighters took the field, there was no going back, no more retreats, no more strategic skirmishes; people would die by the hundreds within minutes, either blown apart as collateral damage or simply overwhelmed by the direct power of the strongest individuals of each nation.

All bets were off once the real monsters stepped onto the field.

“Auntie,” Lily said slowly, still reeling from the previous revelation, “is there hope for Hadrian?”

Gentiliana inhaled and strained her smile, “I don’t see this ending well, Aurora. I’m sorry. I don’t want to lie to you, dear—he’s very close to...”

Her aunt proceeded to explain the details of what she had found: Hadrian’s lungs were filling up with liquid. She had made an effort to drain them, but it became clear that his lungs would quickly fill again. Light Magic did nothing for him other than repair the damage Gentiliana herself had inflicted while getting to his lungs.

Before departing, she took a swift tour of the monastery and checked Lily’s quarters, assuring herself that she wasn’t being treated poorly. She had promised to get her back to the Citadel once the war was finally over. However, not once had Gentiliana mentioned Lily’s real problem: losing her magic.

For some reason, the woman seemed almost incapable of touching the subject or even explicitly mentioning the word ‘Light Magic’ to her—Gentiliana, probably without realizing it, went as far as to flinch whenever she mentioned healing of any form or kind.

Lily knew Gentiliana cared a great deal about her, even more than her own mother, but she felt vulnerable when she saw her avoiding the topic this way; she felt... dirty.

...

Soon, her aunt had to leave after briefing Marcus on what to do next with Hadrian. The man was to be quarantined and kept in his quarters—the rest of what Gentiliana said wasn’t spoken in front of Lily since it involved a thorough rundown of ensuring that whatever Hadrian had caught wouldn’t spread.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

More often than not, this involved fire.

The day soon passed, with Lily unsure of how to proceed. While all the [Monks] went about their day, some more worried than others, she ignored Lucien’s request to go with him to the garden—she had been avoiding him as much as possible since finding out about his past. And before she even knew it, dinner had arrived.

And with dinner arrived trouble.

...

Lily sat at the end of the long table where a few empty seats were left, keeping to herself, feeling akin to when she first attempted [Meditation]: terrible.

As it had happened in other moments of this new life, however, when it rained, it poured.

Brother Lucien walked up to her, followed by Marcus and Arcadius. None of them had a smile or an amicable expression on their faces.

Lily looked up from the other side of the table as they stopped to face her.

“Aurora,” Marcus spoke deeply, “we need to talk to you.”

“Is Hadrian ok?” Lily felt her heart plunge.

“His condition has remained unchanged since your aunt last checked on him. This isn’t about him,” the Head [Monk] explained, “this is about you.”

“What about me?”

“Brother Lucien informed me that he saw you practice [Meditation] on your own. He saw dark veins appear on your arms and face.”

Lily’s heart skipped a beat. She had been keeping her [Meditation] practice secret, mostly practicing at night and in her room, either at a time or a place when no one was supposed to be around.

“Have you been following me?” Lily suddenly asked, too tired to lie.

“I am worried about you, darling,” Brother Lucien said, furrowing his brow, “you have been missing all our appointments, you haven’t been talking to me... is it because I told you what happened to me? Are you afraid of being attacked when your parents are not with you?”

Lily stared at the man, not understanding what he was talking about.

“It’s just natural,” Lucien continued with a sad tone, “but don’t worry... you are safe here. We would never let anything happen to you.”

At that moment, it clicked.

She realized that Brother Lucien thought that she had been upset by the story of his family dying and him deciding to come to the monastery. And, truth be told, she had. But not for the reasons he imagined.

They want you imprisoned.

Suddenly, she heard the demonic voice she had only met on the black, mountainous range. This time, however, it didn’t drain her of power. It made her angrier and also... stronger.

They want to control you.

It sounded like the same anger she had buried deep down in her guts back on Earth, the same toxic part of herself that couldn’t help but come out once in a while. The same part that made her so viciously attracted to fighting, to see people maul each other until blood splattered all over the octagon.

It was an undeniable part of her – the part she hated the most.

“Aurora, you are forbidden from practicing on your own. I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but—” Marcus was in the middle of an explanation, thinking that Lucien had just done a great job reassuring the girl, when he felt the atmosphere shift.

Lily got up and stood as straight as an arrow, her face livid, her neck pulsating with veins, and her lithe fingers balled into tight fists, “you think I’m scared of ending up dead like your daughter and wife?!”

Her shout resounded stronger than a stun grenade in a bunker, turning all the heads in the refectory.

“Yes?” Brother Lucien looked confused.

He’s pathetic.

“You’re pathetic!” Lily shouted at the top of her lungs, beside herself.

“What?” Lucien recoiled, and both Marcus and Arcadius frowned, looking at each other.

He abandoned them.

He chose a life of shame.

He betrayed their memory.

He’s a coward.

“You abandoned your family! You chose a life of shame! You betrayed their memory! I did what I did not because I’m afraid of ending up dead like your daughter, but because I don’t want to be a coward like YOU!”

...

Marcus had punished Lily.

He hadn’t physically punished her like her mother would have, but he had picked her up and brought her to her room. Then, he had closed the door shut and locked it, telling her that she needed some time to cool off and that her father would be notified of her behavior immediately.

Lily wished she could say that she felt guilty about the outburst, that she felt like she did the wrong thing. She wanted to feel guilty, actually. She wished she didn’t think those things about Lucien, that it was just an outburst full of shame, but deep down, she believed every single word she had spoken.

She knew it was irrational, that Lucien didn’t have many choices, and that revenge was bad, but... was it?

She didn’t have a good, well-thought-out answer. She just knew what she felt. And she felt that if someone had killed her family, she would have done anything to tear the murderers apart. All notions of civilization, philosophy, and morals would end up in the drain the moment someone hurt her loved ones. At that point, only going back to Hammurabi’s way – an eye for an eye, and with interest, in her case – would have placated her.

She stared at the room carved into stone. The voice inside of her was right.

I am a prisoner.

But even like this, she had no intention of giving up. Not even if they wanted to keep her here indefinitely—and it wasn’t sure that they could.

She looked at her hands and arms, making an important decision. She still had a job to do: she needed to save Hadrian, one way or another.

And she would only find the answer in one place.

Lily closed her eyes and crossed her legs on her bed.

[Seven Worlds of the Soul]

The mountain rose from the ground like a menacing giant, its peaks hidden by the ever-present gray clouds. Its terrain was treacherous, marked by jagged stones that seemed tempted to cut any foot that dared to tread upon them. The winds howled and screamed, weaving between the crags and crevices, each gust colder than the last. As one ventured higher, the paths turned more treacherous, bordered only by sheer cliffs and deep chasms.

In places, the mountain showed evidence of ancient volcanic activity. There were vast, blackened plateaus, occasionally broken by sudden, sharp outcrops. The stone underfoot was cold, almost unnaturally so, and it bore a polished, glass-like quality in places, which made traversing it all the more challenging.

Lily’s feet bled, but she just watched as she slowly lowered herself into this world.

Find a spot where you can sit. A place that, despite everything, feels safe.

Those had been Hadrian’s words when he had first instructed her, but as she looked at the blackening clouds, she felt in her heart that she wouldn’t find an answer there.

Not in a safe place, she told herself.

Then, she heard the voice again. This time, however, the black tar had yet to descend upon her. In fact, she hadn’t even materialized her protective shield yet.

Find the harshest, most unforgiving spot you can imagine.

A place where everything feels like it’s against you.

Where the very ground you stand on seems intent on repelling you.

There, you will keep watching.

Lily hesitated for a moment but followed her gut reaction, feeling power inside those words. She visualized a narrow ridge on the side of a cliff. The wind was ferocious there, biting at her skin and threatening to push her over the edge at any moment. The rocks were jagged and sharp, cutting into her as she tried to find a semblance of balance.

She wanted nothing more than to leave the spot as soon as she pictured it, repeatedly assaulted by all the sensations that muddied her thoughts. Trying to stay on that cold, harsh ridge felt like torture that removed every last bit of agency from her.

In this hostile space, find yourself.

Your true self.

Find Liliana Ember.

The monstrous voice spoke the name that she had not heard in a decade—her full, Earthbound name.

And as soon as the last words fell upon her, from the zenith of the mountain, the black cloud began spitting the vicious, inky tar. Each droplet was heavy with malevolence and exuded an aura of pure, unadulterated evil.

Lily erected her shield immediately, feeling that the voice had guided her closer to some sort of enlightenment. Then, she heard the voice again.

Or not.

No, the voice came muffled this time.

Lily felt the black rain starting to corrode the shimmering shield, but her full attention was on the voice. A black, humanoid mass emerged from the crevice, levitating in front of her, standing barely a few meters from the ridge she stood upon.

It has the answer!

She couldn’t grasp why she felt that, but she knew it to be true.

She tried looking into it, but its darkness was all-encompassing. Her eyes found no purchase in it, no way to discern whatever she was looking at. However, she knew that this was it. This was her only opportunity to get to the bottom of the matter.

She felt a soft voice coming from the dark figure but nothing more. The thick shield dimmed all sound, and the incessant pattering of the rain drowned the rest. The black water kept on its assault, whittling down her defenses, leaving her with no way of knowing what the dark figure said.

At that moment, Lily looked up at the very peak of the mountain, the clouds, and the whole majestic projection in her mind as if she could suddenly see herself from a bird-eye view, hundreds of meters above.

In an instant, she knew what she had to do.

And so, she lowered the shield.

The rain immediately engulfed her.