And I didn’t know whether to be terrified or excited.
Chapter 10
Restricted
ANNA
Three Years Ago
The skies were dark as I stood in the middle of the stone-tiled training grounds, the lanterns lit and swaying above.
Calm.
I took a deep breath, breathing out slowly.
The only way to hide from darkness was to be hidden in the darkness.
Or so I read in my mom’s journal when I was a child.
I never found it again after that.
I’d spent most of my life in isolation because of her and her fear.
Training started out fun when I was a child. I enjoyed the praise she gave me when I learned a new stance. It made her proud of me.
It wasn’t until recently that I realized why.
My mom was scared. A fear so palpable that sometimes my spine would stiffen, rendering me unable to even turn around toprove there was nothing there. Sometimes, I thought what she feared was right there with us.
The sword glowed as if imbued with power as light flickered in the steel. My training grounds in the forest had become a sanctuary. Cool wind struck my heated flesh, and relief tingled across my cheeks. The branches overhead rustled, singing the music of the trees, and caused the lanterns I’d strung to sway. Shadows moved about like ancient creatures in an unseen realm.
Here, in the dead of night, I was at peace.
Regardless of why she’d put me on this path, I felt relief with a weapon in my hand. Perhaps it was inherited fear creating the need to obtain power. Or perhaps it was natural to want to protect yourself.
I watched the clouds move, revealing the crescent moon and the soft glow of ancient starlight. Both shadow and light—a dichotomy so challenging to master within oneself, but so easily obtained by nature. The night’s starry sky, with its dazzling bursts of light scattered across immense darkness, was a sublime reminder that both could coexist in tranquility.
But I guess it was more about perspective. What looked tranquil from here was billions of atomic explosions happening in unfathomable quantities elsewhere.
That was how I felt—still and calm like a starry night to all around me but raging like a dying star before the supernova. I existed alongside the rhythm of the deafening sound of life as it buzzed and creaked around me, like it’d been taught to harmonize.
Deep within me, there was no such harmony, just me trying to contain everything that I was. That was what Mom and Derrick wanted me to do. Control myself. Develop true strength. Do not seek danger, but should danger find you, be prepared.
I sat cross-legged, the blade balanced on my fingertips, still aglow in a surreal myriad of light that could’ve been a mirrorto another world. My forearms rested on my knees, palms up, and I stared at the sword. My chest rose and fell. Steady, even breaths. Focus on the blade. Slowly, I lowered my right hand, balancing the blade solely with my left fingertips. The sword wavered, balanced momentarily, then clattered to the ground in a cacophony of metal striking stone.
I hissed, a line of bright red appearing across my fingers. I winced and grasped the wound.
Balance—it was the most critical element of my training. Without it, you make mistakes. Without it, you die. Or at least that’s what they told me. I’d never been attacked by someone, nor ever had any reason to believe I would be.
I tried to breathe deeply to release my frustration, but it wasn’t working. How could anyone find balance with a mom as insufferable as mine? The training grounds had once been a place where I came to find solace, but lately, even here, the discord within would not abate.
It was my birthday weekend, and I was out here training alone instead of celebrating with Katie and the others, because my mom couldn’t get over her own paranoid delusions. School and home. That was my life.
But that wasn’t all this was about. Even before tonight, I’d been struggling to attain the same level of control I’d had before Derrick stopped coming by as much.
I grabbed the sword’s hilt as I rose, letting the blade drag across the stone hard enough to make sparks. Whatever was eating at me was doing so thoroughly enough that I couldn’t even hold the blade still. Being unable to steady my blade was a likely sign of death in a battle. Calm, control, and focus were necessary; anything more or less was a weakness the enemy would exploit. To have those qualities, one had to have balance.
That was what Derrick had drilled into me over the years. He used to visit often, training me and dedicating hours todeveloping my skills. He’d been the one to build these training grounds. Once pristine stone tiles were now cracked and covered with moss. The lanterns lit the clearing with an orange glow. As the air grew colder, a shroud of mist began to form. Its tendrils twisted through the gnarled branches of the forest's towering trees.
