Fall of Autumn, Week 4, Day 4

Lunch was a silent affair –as was dinner. I spent them reading and sifting through the information about mana pearls. The more technical the writing got, the more at home I felt —reminded of elsewhere and jargon that was barely comprehensible to anyone but the researchers. Sure, I had Noir with me, but at some point, his animation faltered, and I felt that calling a spirit forward just to watch me read would only bore whoever answered the summons. It felt selfish to do such a thing when I was the only one who would benefit.

Am I a selfish person? I wondered silently as I stared at the page before me. I must be. I let my emotions rule me without regard for the consequences.

I swallowed thickly, grief overwhelming me, the burden of my decisions weighing down on me. But, unlike before, this grief was not of elsewhere. No. This grief was for Oberon, Sir Rellar, the captain, the very man who was so insistent on my safety—not because of my person but because of my blood.

Sir Rellar was the cost of my selfishness. The cost of my desire to flex what control I had. The cost of my idiocy.

I pressed my lips together and blinked back the unshed tears that were threatening to fall. I wouldn’t cry, not out in the open. Fellan was to know me as the girl Eunora should have been —free. Not a child scarred by the worst of the Divines.

Is she even the worst? I sighed outwardly. Or is she simply the worst I’ve met so far?

I flipped the page and stared at the words for several long minutes.

Eventually, I snapped the book closed and stood. Above me, the night sky was visible. Not a star in sight—never any stars—simply the shining green of Revel and the moon’s rings. And the darkness. I placed the books on mana pearls to the edge of the table, neatly stacked in a way that would hopefully say, ‘Please put me away.’

Rather than wander aimlessly, I grabbed Noir and left the library to return to my room.

The manor’s lights were dimmed to match the time —nearly eleven. The magelights flickered in a mimicry of candlelight, and I wondered if that was on purpose. If it was meant to imitate the warmth of fire. If it was supposed to soothe whoever witnessed it.

Great inventions were often the result of great passion—or that’s how the saying went in elsewhere. Perhaps it was the same here. Perhaps someone loved another enough to alter the way a magelight worked to provide comfort. To provide warmth or as close as it could get with the heatless light of mana.

Or, maybe, I was reading too much into it. Maybe the magelights were running low on power and needed to be fed.

I made my way up the main stairwell, taking in the silence of the manor. I knew there were guards somewhere in the halls, roaming. Sir Limrick had told me as much. But he also said I would be hard-pressed to notice them. It was often the highest ranked who had night duty, as that was when the worst dangers lurked.

‘Lady Nora, the knights of Fellan are strong –they’re trained to protect the borderlands from incursions. Both mortal and monster.’ He’d reassured me, when I asked where the knights who escorted me would be. ‘I’m not half as strong as the Commander. If you’re ever worried, all you need to do is say so.’

“Ah,” I said aloud, pulling myself out of the memory. I paused at the top of the stairs, looking back over the entryway.

If I called, would they come?

Am I selfish enough to call?

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Is anyone there?” I whispered.

Immediately, I felt a presence appear within the range of my [Mana Sense]. First, it was just the one by the door down below. Then, in the distance on the second floor, I felt another. A third was down the hallway I’d come from. And a fourth was by the stairwell to the third floor. My heartbeat picked up, and I whipped my head around, looking for a knight.

Between one second and the next, I saw them. They were in full armor, with cream metal and purple leather. They had a sword on their hip and a helmet blocking their face. The knight looked ready for war. It was a comforting thought.

I nodded at the knight and made it the rest of the way to my room without letting my emotions overwhelm me.

It was as the door closed behind me that I pressed my back to the wood and collapsed, sliding down to the floor.

Tears flowed freely, then. There was no stopping them.

I stole his future.

I took a shaking breath and burrowed my head into my knees.

It’s my fault.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I sobbed, loud and shuddering.

It’s all my fault.

I fought for every breath I took, and snot fell from my nose.

He would be here if it weren’t for me.

I couldn’t help it. I said it. I needed to know.

“[Eyes of Gospel]”

Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew my eyes were glowing white.

I had to say it, to know.

“If it weren’t for me, Oberon would be alive,” I choked out.

Unlike before, the sour tang of a lie never crossed my tongue. Instead, it was a pleasant floral taste. Much like my mouth, the smell that hit my nose was sweet —not the foul stench that had permeated when I lied.

Of course, it didn’t.

Because this was the truth.

I sobbed harder. And I couldn’t find it in me to summon the shadow animations.

Am I selfish? Do I have it in me to weather the consequences of my own choices?

I had known the answer earlier, the truth of it. I’m so exceedingly selfish. My world consumes me.

But I also couldn’t help but to admit I was wearing thin. Every day that passed without Sir Rellar had me spiraling.

If I can’t live with my choices, they will consume me just as I was consumed with my anger.

I closed my eyes and forced my face even further into the skin of my legs.

I need to be someone little Nora would be proud of. Someone the old hag in my head can partner with.

I gulped down the air as if I was suffocating. Maybe I was.

I need to change. Being bold with my power isn’t enough. I need to be smart. I need to be strategic. I need to become a [Young Lady of Darkness].

I swallowed forcefully, holding my sobs at bay long enough to read the notification I’d been ignoring.

[Congratulations! Eyes of Gospel has reached Level 2!]

And then the dam broke again.

But I couldn’t help myself from knowing that this meant I was one step to growing stronger. One step to following my own path. One step closer to forging my own truth, away from the haunting blindfold of Abelia.

I had thought I was doing better. That the guilt had ebbed over the weeks it’d been. But I had been fooling myself. Simply pushing the guilt down wasn’t doing anything for me.

Just like running away from Theo wasn’t going to solve my problem.

Running from Theo was arguably the worse of the two choices. He had been trying to connect. To talk about our siblings.

And I should have thought it through. What he meant when he mentioned Eve. I should have asked more questions.

This was as much her fault as it was mine.

Theo. Eve. Raph. There’s more going on than I can see. I need to see.

I let out a slow sigh, finally taking back control of my breathing.

I can’t be this person, this child who breaks before she bends.

I turned my head, looking out the open curtains to the pitch-black sky. My cheek pressed against my knee, and I whispered, almost too soft for even me to hear.

“Morloch told me to grow, to become powerful. To become my own God.” I swallowed. “The God of Nora would learn. Learn to heal. Learn to hold tall even in the face of her raging emotions.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes, pulling myself up slowly. My legs wobbled as I took a step towards the balcony. It was another step before I found my strength and strode across the room, pushing open the double doors that lead to the garden overlook.

The chill of the night stung where my tears had trailed, almost as if mana was surrounding me. It was the same icy feeling, but lesser. It wasn’t magic. It was just nature.

I gripped the stone rail so hard my knuckles turned white.

“This is it,” I said, looking over the dead and dormant plants of what once was a vibrant garden.

Much like me, it would return. Stronger. More beautiful. It would bloom. So would I.

Because I was stuck here.

Fellan was to become my new home. My teacher, my trial, my mother, my daughter. Fellan will guide me on a path to power. It will test me time and time again with tutors, and towers, and academies. It will raise me up like Mallorica never could. In return, I will shower it with the love of a Dawn. I will have this place grow with me. Fellan will be mine as much as I will be its.

The Borderlands is an exile, a punishment. All because I refused to grow. Mallorca sent me here, thinking I would be forced out. Thinking she could keep me controlled. Whether she knows about my Class, or my Levels, or my Affinity, it matters not.

I will become so powerful, the [Lady of Red Daybreak] cannot fathom me. I will become so powerful that the [Young Lady of Monsters] will be forced to hide behind her creatures. Raphael will never control me with his anger. Theo with his indifference.

I paused.

Maybe Theo shouldn’t be on the list at all. Not until we speak again. Not until I know the truth.

I released my grip and stretched my hands out, feeling the muscles in my fingers tighten to the extreme. Then I released the stretch and ran my fingers over my braids.

Tomorrow, they will be more extravagant than ever before. I will weave them with gemstones and iridescent threads. I will be shadow and light. My clothes will be so bright it is as if the light cannot touch it any further and so dark it is as if light has never touched them at all.

There is no more hiding. Noir, and Haze, and Shade, they will accompany me and they will be allowed to speak.

I will see the knights who brought me here, and I will thank them.

I will ask them to keep me safe for a while yet.

Just until I am strong enough to protect myself.

Just until I can redefine what it means to be Eunora Killian Dawn, [Young Lady of Darkness].

Just until I can prove that I’m worthy of the power that my Class brings me.

Until I can take my Affinity and be top of the world.

I didn’t smile at the thought. The opposite, really. My mouth turned down, and my fists balled back up as I settled them on the stone again.

This wasn’t a pep talk. It was a promise. No.

It was a vow.

“I vow on my name, on the past I cannot say, and the future I do not know. I vow on the Domain I am claiming.”

The cold nipped at my nose, and I released my shadows from my wrists. Then, the cold intensified, and frost coated my eyelashes with the overwhelming presence of my mana.

“I vow I will not break. Not again. Never again.”