Their screams had been like a balm to my aching muscles.
Their begging had been like a bandage that held me together.
And their tears? Those had only fueled the power I felt simmering inside.
Four male prisoners laid in various parts of the chamber, their forms too still to mean anything other than death. The first prisoner looked,objectively,the worst—third-degree burns covered the entirety of his body.I’dbarely touched him before the fire covering me had leaped to him—and engulfed him.
Compared to the three that had followed, his death had been swift.
He had begged for mercy, after all.
I sat there in the center of all mydestruction,my white and silver wings wrapped around me as though they could block out the voices circling in my head.
I’d taken these prisoners’ lives.
Four of them.
What was I becoming?
Stronger, a voice reflecting Father’s echoed through my mind.
A monster, a voice that sounded—to my horror—like mytwin’swhispered in my thoughts.
“Shut up,” I mumbled, digging the heel of my palm into my temple.
The pain and pressure to my head wasn’t a large enough distraction, though, the wordsmonsterandstrongercircling the inside my skull.
“Iruleyou,” I reminded the voices that haunted me as I tugged on my hair.
These prisoners were Southern. They are the enemy. They are evil. Ididn’tdo anything wrong. I had to.
I repeated these five sentences in a soft whisper,over and over, until it was all I could hear echoing in my brain.
Slowly, I released my hands from my head and placed a palm on the floor. Icouldn’tseem to tap into the earth to bend it to my will just yet, but itdidn’tcompletely elude me, either.
I could feel Valenia pacing back and forth just outside of the door.Iwasn’tsure what her life had been like before vowing herself to me, but she seemed… sensitive.
It was something we’d have to work on.
After some long moments, she finally approached the door. She knocked as she cracked it open gently, keeping her eyes downcast. We both knewshe’dseen whatI’ddone tonight. She had been the one to bring me the other three prisoners, after all.
“My king? Might I enter?” she requested, her mannerisms refusing to be shaken.
Gingerly, I folded my wings back against my body and nodded, not uttering a word. My throat was stilla tadraw.
My Right Hand came and elegantly positioned herself on the floor next to me, not seeming to care about the drops of blood seeping into her maroon riding leathers, the silveraccents reflecting the dim light in the room as thealychitebars had earlier thatevening. Shehadn’thad time to change out of her riding attire oncewe’darrived.
And she wouldn’t have a chance anytime soon, either.
“How are you feeling now?”shequestioned,her voice giving away none of the anxiety she must have feltin order tocause her to pace just a moment before.
My muscles, which no longer felt like they were being shredded from the inside out, flexed as I held my hands out in front of me. They were covered in blood from all four prisoners, along with ash and burned bits of… something.
Clenching my fists and relaxing them again, I looked up into her eyes when I responded.
“Powerful.”
Using myziriliumfelt…enthralling. Each time was better than theonebefore. It reminded me of training—how youbuilt upendurance, muscles growing stronger after being used so often. Maybeziriliumwas like that—a muscle that needed training.
