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40. Meet Ebon

A/N

This story is unedited so apologies for grammatical and spelling errors if any.

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Fiora (POV)

Lying on the grass, I felt my body gradually relax, as if the earth itself was absorbing all my worries and heaviness. Oh, it felt so soothing. Glamma lay beside me, sharing the moment of tranquillity. I mind-linked Zack, telling him I wasn't feeling well and had gone home. Despite his barrage of questions, I managed to dodge them all.

"Are you really okay, Glamma?" I finally asked the question gnawing at me.

"I'm fine, child," she replied with a melancholic smile. "My life has just stretched on longer than I ever anticipated."

"Why do you say that? Isn't it wonderful to live a long life? To see the world change, to watch your children grow stronger and fight their battles," I said.

"Those are the perks when your life has more joyful moments than sorrowful ones. You haven't missed too many moments, and you haven't seen the darkest sides of the world yet," she paused, her expression thoughtful, her eyes reflecting a hidden sadness. "Once you've experienced those darkest parts, the only thing you'll ever wish for is an end. The irony is, the more you desire it, the more it eludes you," she said softly.

"It seems you've had a tough life," I said gently.

"I have," she admitted, "but I feel like I didn't fight hard enough... I should have. I kept hoping that tomorrow would be better, but it never was," she said calmly.

She paused for a moment, then continued, "Fiora, it took me a lifetime to understand that situations don't improve on their own. You have to put in a significant effort to shape them according to your will. Most people don't change; it's you who changes and grows stronger. When you decide to change, you can make life better for those around you or worse. Choose your path wisely," she said.

I was puzzled, trying to grasp the full meaning of her words.

"Should I be warned about something?" I asked, my voice tinged with apprehension.

She smiled mysteriously. "Maybe. Who knows?" Her cryptic response only deepened my worry. Even Samragyi Ina had warned me of something similar. What is it that they know, and why am I still in the dark?

I had come here to relax, but my mind was now a whirlwind of questions with no clear answers. "Glamma," I called softly. She responded with a gentle hum of acknowledgement. "What if I want to quit?"

She laughed softly. "Quit? And for how long? If quitting or avoiding were truly that easy, I would have taken that path centuries ago. Kid, the more you step back, hide, and run, the more forcefully you'll have to face what you're avoiding. No one escapes without confronting their fears."

"Newton's third law of motion: 'For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction,'" I said, trying to make sense of it.

"I'm not familiar with this Newton fellow, but he sounds like a wise man," Glamma said with a smile.

"He is," I agreed, and Glamma nodded, her eyes twinkling with understanding.

"Fiora, can I ask you a few questions?" Glamma hesitated, her usual confidence wavering.

"Of course," I replied eagerly.

"What does love feel like?" she asked, her voice soft and unsure.

"Good, nice, marvellous... Sometimes it's hard to see that strictness is born from fear of losing you, and there's always love hidden somewhere in it," I started, but Glamma interrupted me.

"Child, I meant romantic love. How does that feel?" she asked, a slight blush colouring her cheeks.

"Why? Are you in love?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hush! Shut up. Is this the age for such things?" she replied, her face turning crimson.

"What does age have to do with it?" I countered.

She looked at me, her blush deepening. "If you don't want to answer, just say so," she said, turning her gaze away.

I laughed and paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. "To be honest, I don't really know. They say it feels like you're on cloud nine one moment and in the depths of hell the next. It's sweet and salty, with constant butterflies in your stomach. If you're with the one who's meant for you, you want to be with them no matter what. But let's be real, it's a mutual thing. Relationships can never be fifty-fifty; when one falls, the other has to balance it out."

"It still didn't answer my question... What does it feel like?" she asked again, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

I glanced at her, puzzled. She noticed my confusion and elaborated, "Like, parental love feels like protection, sibling love feels like a backbone, friendship feels like a cloud. So, what does romantic love feel like?"

I pondered her question, realizing I had never thought deeply about it before. Trying to find the right words, I finally came up with something that made me laugh, "It feels like amalgam."

"What's so funny? And why amalgam?" she questioned, her curiosity piqued.

Between my laughs, I asked, "Can you define love?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I knew," she said with a smile.

I sat up straight and looked at the waterfall. "Do you know why water tastes sweet?" I asked.

"Because it has minerals mixed in it," she replied.

"Correct. But what if we filter out the minerals, good or bad? What will happen then?"

"The taste is going to change," she answered, realization dawning on her face.

"I think you got your answer," I said with a smile, and she nodded.

"It's a mixture of everything in the right proportion and can't be distilled into a single definition," she explained thoughtfully.

"And it also changes with the place you go. It takes time to adjust to the water of that place, and it's unique for everyone," I added, feeling a sense of clarity in our conversation.

We both sat in silence for a moment, the soothing sounds of the waterfall and the gentle rustling of leaves filling the air. The serenity of the place, combined with our shared insights, made me feel a deeper connection to Glamma and the wisdom she had shared.

The silence was comforting, and I took a deep breath, feeling the tranquillity cool off my system. Glamma offered me the fruits she had plucked in the cave. Taking just one bite, I was transported to heaven; it was so delicious, a perfect blend of sweet and salty.

"What is this?" I asked, marvelling at the taste.

"Grinny Brinleberry," she said with a grin.

"What?" I looked at her in a confused state of mind.

"I named it. Don't look at me like that," she said, her tone playful.

Her words made me burst into laughter. Glamma's annoyed expression only made me laugh harder, her frustration adding to the joy of the moment. Her face was a mix of annoyance and amusement, which only made my laughter more uncontrollable.

"What? I named every fruit in the cave. I nurtured those plants! You can't make fun of me like that," she said, her voice rising in indignation.

I tried to muffle my laughter, but it only lasted a moment before I couldn't control it anymore. Glamma quickly started to pack her belongings, pretending to leave in a huff.

"Wait, Glamma!" I said, grabbing her arm to stop her. "I deeply apologize. I won't do it again," I said, finally getting a hold of my laughter.

Her hands were as cold as ice, making me more curious about her. I didn't say it out loud nor did I express it, but the chill of her touch sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to understand her, to delve into the mysteries that surrounded her

While savouring her 'Grinny Brinleberry', my mind raced with thoughts about the impending day.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Tomorrow is a monumental day for me. We'll be attempting to communicate with Ebon. I'm uncertain how it will unfold, but I know I must convince that entity to cease its brutal acts. Why do I feel an impending sense of doom? Why do I sense there's more to Ebon than just a spirit seeking revenge?

"Glamma, may I ask you some questions? I must warn you, they might be sensitive. If you don't want to answer, you can simply avoid them," I asked, my voice tinged with hesitation.

"Ask away, child. I have nothing to hide," she responded confidently.

"Do you know who Samragyi Ina is?" I inquired.

She nodded. "Yes."

"What kind of person was she?" I pressed further.

"I don't know. I wasn't born in her era. I've only heard and read her stories, just like you," she replied, forming water bubbles with her magic, seemingly at ease.

"Which era were you born in?" I asked, hesitantly.

"In your method of calculating years, I must have been born somewhere between 1675 and 1685. We didn't have an exact system back then," she said nonchalantly.

"So, you've lived for nearly five centuries," I stuttered, my words faltering.

"Pretty much, yes," she answered, still playing with the water bubbles.

Am I foolish for still sitting here and talking to her instead of running away as fast as I can? Of course, I am. I started laughing nervously. "You're not Ebon Flux. What am I even thinking?" I looked at her for confirmation.

She smiled and waved her hand dismissively. "Of course, I'm not Ebon. What are you even thinking?" I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm just a part of it. There are three of us, together form an Ebon" she said as if it was an everyday tea-time conversation.

"I am in trouble, right?" I asked, surrendering to the absurdity of the situation.

"No, you can run if you want to. I won't hurt you, I swear on the dead child," she said sweetly.

Hearing her swear replaced some of my fear with curiosity. After gathering my courage and taking deep breaths, I asked, " But...wh.....whh...Why?"

"What, why?" she asked.

"Why are you killing those people?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Because they deserve it," she said simply.

"What?..... Nobody deserves to be murdered," I retorted.

"Agreed," she stated calmly.

"So, you won't kill from now on?" I asked, hoping for some resolution.

"When did I say that?" she answered, her tone unwavering.

"But,...... You just agreed with me," I said, utterly confused.

She shrugged, her expression serene. "I agreed that nobody deserves to be murdered, but that doesn't mean I will stop."

I was torn between the urge to run and the burning need to know 'why.' As you might have guessed, I chose the latter, perhaps the worst decision.

"Why are you killing them? What have they done?" I asked my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.

She didn't answer immediately. When I finally looked at her, her eyes were closed, and a faint pattern glowed on her forehead, the same eerie colour my eyes had glowed yesterday.

She opened her eyes, her gaze distant. "It's getting late, child. You should head home." Without meeting my eyes, she handed me the berries and prepared to leave. Panic surged through me, and I quickly grabbed her hand. "Are you going for another kill?" I asked, my voice trembling with worry.

"Yes," she replied simply and vanished into the vortex, leaving me in a whirlwind of confusion and dread.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, wondering, Should I report this to everyone or keep it to myself and try to find answers on my own?

The question gnawed at me all the way home. Lost in thought, I didn't even notice when I arrived. Zack's voice snapped me back to reality, his tone a mix of anger and worry. For the first few seconds, I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Moments later, his words started making sense.

"Where were you, Fiora? Not answering your phone, your mind link was blocked. Why do you do this? I was so worried!" His words hit me like a torrent, each one filled with concern and frustration.

I slowly checked my phone. Seven missed calls and a slew of messages. Guilt washed over me. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again," I said, my voice soft and remorseful, as I walked towards the door, my mind still tangled with unanswered questions and the looming threat of Glamma's next move.

"Where were you? And why didn't you give me a clear answer earlier?" Zack asked, his irritation evident.

"Near the waterfall," I replied curtly, still reeling from Glamma's revelation. My mind was a tempest of thoughts. Thiswas the third time I had met her. What kind of attachment is this? Why do Ifeel betrayed? How much did I really know about her? What if she's the killer?She is a stranger and could be a psychotic murderer... My suspicions churned, and guilt gnawed at me. Why do I feel sympathy for her when she broke the rules of the society? She should be punished for that. My thoughts spiralled into suspicion and confusion. Is this Stockholm syndrome?

My frantic thoughts were interrupted by Zack's worried gaze. He looked at me strangely, concern etched in his eyes.

"What?" I asked, confused by his stare.

"Are you okay? You seemed lost," he said, his voice as soft as a whisper.

"Yes," I nodded, trying to sound reassuring. "Why?"

"I called you multiple times. You didn't hear me. You ignored me as if I wasn't there. I even dropped a metal bowl, and you didn't react," his voice remained gentle, filled with concern.

I cupped his face and brought it to my forehead. "I'm alright, don't worry. I just have too much on my plate."

He looked at me with his big doe eyes, as innocent as a pup. "Sit on the couch," he urged, while he settled on the floor, offering me water. "If you don't want to or feel like doing it, we can postpone tomorrow's event," he said softly.

"No, I want to do it. At least I can do this much," I replied, my voice tinged with melancholy.

"Don't push yourself unnecessarily, Fiora. It's alright. We already have two ancient spirits to deal with and..." I cut him off before he could continue.

"Three," I said.

"Sorry?" He asked, confusion clouding his features.

"There are three spirits," I repeated.

"How do you know?" he asked, still puzzled.

"I saw a vision," I lied. I wasn't sure why, but deep down, I wanted to protect her. If there was even the slightest chance she could be innocent, I wanted to find it.

"What did you see?" Zack asked, his curiosity shifting to seriousness.

"The same sword, but with three different energies bonded to it," I answered, the weight of my words hanging heavily between us.

"Was this the reason for your melancholy mood?" he asked, his voice softening. I nodded, not wanting to lie anymore.

Zack laid his head on my lap and caressed my lower legs. "It's okay, Fiora. We'll figure something out."

A wave of exhaustion washed over me, draining my energy. I rested my head against Zack's, closing my eyes while remaining faintly aware of my surroundings. I felt Zack gently slide his head away from beneath me, his hands carefully cradling my head and placing it on a pillow. He straightened me on the couch and sat beside me, stroking my hair.

I turned towards him, opening my eyes and smiling faintly. "Can I share your burdens?" I asked groggily, feeling utterly spent.

"You already do," he replied lovingly, continuing to stroke my hair.

I made a little sound of disappointment. "Not like this, like always, permanently, like we're stuck together with gorilla glue." My filter had disappeared in my tired state.

He smiled and kissed my forehead, saying nothing.

"I guess I still have to wait a lot for your answer," I mumbled, my eyelids growing heavier.

"I want to..." he began, but his words faded into the haze of my drowsiness. The only thing that lingered in my mind was Glamma and the burning question of how to protect her.

I woke up in a small, dimly lit room, the piercing sound of a man's screams cutting through the air. Alarmed, I rushed towards the source. On the floor lay a man, naked and begging for his life. Above him, my Glamma floated, her form glowing with an eerie mix of black and blue.

I screamed, but my voice seemed to dissolve into nothingness. Desperate, I tried to reach her, floating in the air. As I passed through her spectral form, it felt like trying to grasp a wisp of smoke. Her voice, a haunting blend of multiple tones, commanded, "DIE," as she slowly charred the man's private parts.

Panicking, I scrambled to find something to stop her—fireballs, water orbs, air blasts, even combinations of elements—nothing worked. Frantically, I scanned the room and saw two other men, their bodies dried and lifeless. I averted my gaze from the horrifying sight, only to find an unconscious woman on the bed, her body marred by fresh small round burn marks, bruises around her wrists, neck, and ankles, and a turbid white substance visible on her skin. The realization of the horrific act committed by these men filled me with revulsion and rage.

Understanding the magnitude of their atrocity, I couldn't bring myself to stop Glamma. Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on Zack, willing myself to return home.

When I opened my eyes, the enticing aroma of waffles greeted me. Smiling, I followed the scent to the kitchen, where Zack was busy making breakfast.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, noticing my presence.

I smiled brightly. "Better than the past few days," I chirped, a strange sense of satisfaction washing over me. My questions had been answered. Those men had received the fate they deserved.

"Whatcha making?" I asked, my voice brimming with cheer.

"Waffles... And before I forget, where did you get these Brineberries?"

"What are Brineberries?" I responded, puzzled. He pointed to the fruit Glamma had given me.

I suddenly became conscious and asked, "Why?"

"Because this tree went extinct centuries ago due to deforestation and climate change," he explained, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

"An old lady gave them to me," I said.

"For free?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in scepticism.

"No, each one cost me a hefty amount," I admitted.

"She must be wealthy then because people would kill for this fruit," he remarked.

"Nope, she wasn't," I replied, still puzzled by the encounter.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "I don't understand. They cost you a hefty amount, but the lady wasn't rich. What exactly did you pay for these fruits?"

"A promise to make life better for everyone and to make wise choices," I said, wrapping my arms around him from behind, feeling a mixture of warmth and responsibility.

"You sound like a leader," Zack said softly, pride evident in his voice.

"Seriously, so, can I..." I began, but he cut me off.

"Waffles are ready," he announced, louder than necessary, changing the subject.

He had blended some of the Brineberries and made a quick jam, spreading it generously over the waffles before handing them to me.

Before I could take a bite, Zack asked eagerly, "How's it?"

"Let me take a bite at least," I laughed. As soon as the waffle touched my tongue, I was transported to a world of flavours. The blend of sweet and salty was divine. The Brineberries, naturally sweet and salty, added an incredible depth of flavour. I closed my eyes, savouring the taste.

Zack watched me with a delighted smile, then hurried to make another waffle for himself. I couldn't help but admire him as he moved around the kitchen, his passion for cooking shining through.

"You're amazing, you know that?" I said, my voice filled with admiration.

He looked up, surprised. "Just doing what I love," he replied with a grin.

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A/N

Word count:- 3100

Hello, my lovely readers, I hope you all are doing well

Here, is the 40th chapter of my book

I hope you all liked it and have a great day ahead

Ok

Thank you

Love you

bye:)

Until next time

Happy reading 💐

Date:- 26/07/2024

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