I want my innate back.
I cannot be expected to simplyignorewhat she’s stolen. Ryc, Eve, Lilith, even Cyran, they all agree an innateless life is still fulfilling.
I couldn’t disagree more.
They’ve notlivedwithout an innate.
They’ve never been left unable toreachtheirs. It’s a perspective and understanding heavily shaped by knowing or seeing people who haveneverhad an innate—not those who have lost theirs. They fail to recognize I built a presence—anidentity—upon it.
Losing it… is losing yet another part of myself.
As a creature accustomed to having an innate ability for well over a thousand years, existing as an innateless mortal is nothing short of an insult. It’s no way formeto live.
I cannot defend myself.
I cannot ferry.
And now Rowen and his damn letter introduces serious concerns. I’m forced to rely upon Ryc to keep me safe. Entirely.
It’s not that he’s incapable.
It’s thatIfeelworthless.
And that is unacceptable.
Flinging the cover open, several runes spring forth upon the page, and I patiently wait for them to form words.
Fated Celestials.
“Show me what I need to know to find my innate,” I say, my voice low. “I need to finish reading those chapters.”
The book responds. The runes shift. Some fade, others appear.
Of course, Aether.
My eyes narrow but the short sentence fades. It’s quickly replaced by a series of lines in Malbolge. Runes race onto the page, creating a list.
The Aegis of Aether.
The Chasm of Chaos.
The Daughter of Darkness.
The Depth of Death.
The Fingers of Fate.
The Journey of Judgment.
The Light of Life.
The Litany of Light.
The Oracle of Order.
The Nature of Nether.
The Transition of Time.
