And the world went white again.
My stomach turned violently while my mind floated weightless, lost in an endless spiral of a dream I couldn’t break free from. Nothingness surrounded me—no light, no sound. For a moment, I let myself feel the relief of no longer carrying the merfolk and Terraguard’s burden. A slow breath escaped me, my body starting to soften into the calm, but even as it came, I feared it, as if peace itself might be the first thing to break me.
But calm never lingers forever, no matter how tightly it is clung to. The weight of life always finds its way back.
Especially to me.
The tingling in my limbs crept back as I lunged into motion, attempting to grasp any sense of reality. My heart pounded against my sternum, arms reaching to feel anything tangible. Sharp agony raced through me at the movement of my arm’s wound. Wetness coated the opening along the flesh.
I could start to make out the light in my vision, but the fogginess made it difficult to see anything. My body felt solid then, the pain in my forearm making its appearance again, except the shame of my failure pierced more agony than the blade had.
I blinked feverishly until my eyes finally cleared, revealing an open entryway inside a palace where I laid. Walls of glazed glass surrounded me, spiraled staircases of the same fragilematerial at each side. Light filtered through the walls from the outside, casting rainbows across the white stone floor.
There was so much beauty in Noctis’s realm, yet all I’d witnessed so far was failure. Even in beauty, there was a touch of pain. Nothing lovely came without cost.
How much had the god paid in blood and sacrifice?
Silence loomed in the manor—the kind that intentionally separated noise to keep a person on edge, festering in their own anticipation.
“Trauma reshapes our choices, redirects our futures, and rewires our minds.”
Finnegan’s voice could have shattered the frosted glass walls. I shuffled to my feet and faced the main council man, awaiting his decision to deny me the third trident piece.
“But we want to make sure it hasn’t weighed you down beyond repair,” he continued, stepping slowly forward to close the distance.
“I lost the first trial.” I let the words fall from my mouth like a painful confession.
“Break the chains.”
And Finnegan disappeared.
Frustration festered under my skin with the sudden changes in the setting, how I was thrown into trials without warning, and the disappearing of people without answers.
I scanned the large space, but it was empty. My eyes wandered past the low hanging chandelier through the floor-to-ceiling window. Clouds covered the ground that peeked through the hovering white puffs in green splotches.
So, definitely still in the Aetherkin Bound.
A crash echoed through the corridor. Then, the noise hit in rhythm, shaking the ground at the impact.
Hit, hit, hit. Hit. Crash.
One right after the other as if in sync. Metal clanked together as each crashing boom filled the castle.
Break the chains, Finnegan had told me. My eyes shot open in realization.
I jolted toward the thunderous clamor, but when I turned the corner, I froze at what stood before me.
My parents.
They thrashed against bulky, metal chains, spasming with rageful, starved hunger covering their features. Their eyes locked onto mine and then widened as they sensed the dormant power in my blood. I’d never seen them with legs before. Somehow, that terrified me even more. It extended the reach they had on me—the ability for them to travel amongst the waves and the shore. It was no secret they could, but it only lessened how safe I felt in the Terraguard Bound.
My mother’s iced over eyes recognized me first, a sickening hoarse scream escaping her mouth toward her daughter. Her matted white hair reflected against the cool tones of the glass castle walls. My father stopped yanking on the chains, but my mother was in one of her frenzies, thrashing toward me as if her very life and soul depended on reaching her daughter’s blood.
“I suppose you disappearing was your twisted way of saying thanks for everything we did for you,” my father spat. His deep, rumbling voice followed me, gluing to my heart and soul. His eyes frantically searched for my weak spots. I knew his ways best. He always devoured my confidence before devouring my soul piece by piece.
All I ever wanted was for them to do better. Tobebetter.
I couldn’t speak—couldn’t breathe. I was sure I would never see my parents again. Would never allow them to drain the blood and life from me again. Children are either molded into their parents as they age… or repulsed, making promises they stay true to through adulthood. And I would bend light, shatter mountains, and even rip out my own heart with a blade before I became the two beings before me.
