I’ve been avoiding discussing this strange new ability in any depth, but I can’t go on ignoring it.
“I think it started as fear,” I admit. “The fae who first came into our room had a sensic power?—”
“He could generate terror,” Leon says, nodding. “I felt your fear through the mooring; it helped me wake up from the dreams.” He grimaces. I know how much he dislikes this new lack of control he has when it comes to his own sensic magic.
“He tried to use it on me, too, before I killed him,” Leon says. “Is that how you managed to tap into your new power? Did the fear make you push your magic further than usual?”
I shake my head. “I wish I could just put it down to that. But it wasn’t the fear that drove me.”
I sit up, pushing the sheets back. I need some air, and I don’t want to look at Leon’s face. I switch to talking across the mooring, hoping it will be easier not to say the words out loud.
“I felt such…certainty. I didn’t question it. I knew what I had to do to finish the fight. And the fact is, I don’t feel bad about what I did. Even now, I think it was necessary to avoid worse consequences for our side.”
“So why can’t you look me in the eyes?”Leon asks, pushing me to be honest with myself.
“I’m worried about the fact that I don’t feel more guilty.”
I turn, sitting sideways to look at him again, wanting to explain clearly.
“Listen, my love,” I begin, “I would give up my soul a thousand times for you. But what I did tonight…I think I might only have been able to do it because I’m missing that piece of me. And more than that, I can’t help but wonder if the version of me before all this—the one with her soul intact—would feel differently about how easy it was to kill those people.”
“And if the answer to all that is yes?” Leon asks, tilting his head. “Does that matter?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I guess I’m worried it means I’m a bad person. Will people look at me like a monster, knowing I literally have the power ofdeath?”
Leon reaches out to stroke my arm. I lean into his hand, briefly closing my eyes as I wait for his answer.
“Lots of people have magical skills that make them very effective at killing people,” he says softly. “Look at Damia and Phaia, or Corrin and Mal. Do you see them as monsters?”
I open my eyes. “You know that’s different.”
“Why? Just because your way is quicker? Neater? Less painful? Those all sound like good things to me.”
“It’s also unnatural,” I say. “And people don’t like anything unnatural. Half my kingdom already thinks I’m an aberration. This isn’t exactly going to help.”
He considers this. “I can’t deny that people may be afraid of your power. Even the Trovian soldiers fighting by my side got uneasy when they were reminded about my power. Strength scares people, especially when they’re afraid they can’t control it.”
“So?” I ask, hoping he has some solution.
“So, I think you should decide carefully about how and when you use this amazing, impressive power in front of others, but don’t think any less of yourself just because you’ve been the one chosen to wield it.”
I smile despite myself, his admiring tone filling me with warmth that floods across the mooring.
“My love,” Leon reaches for my hand, using it to pull me down against him, hugging me tight. “You will never be a monster, no matter how many missing pieces you have. How could you be, when you saved me? When you keep reaching for your magic to help your friends and family? That’s what matters. That’s what shows you’re the same person you’ve always been.”
I think about how Leon described his time in the War of the Laurels. He became hardened to death because he had to. That’s what soldiers do. But his core values remained the same, and that’s why I fell in love with him.
When I think about it from his perspective, it would be weirder if I went through everything I’ve been through and came out theother side unchanged. But I haven’t lost my capacity for love. I still carry all the same people in my heart. In fact, it’s grown to accommodate a whole new crowd of people lately.
When I have that, then maybe the missing piece of my soul doesn’t matter so much after all.
I sleep soundly at first, until a new dream finds me, mind clearly not put to rest.
In the dream, I see myself as if from a height. The version of me standing below is dressed in black, but it doesn’t hide the blood sprayed across her clothes. She’s standing over a pile of bodies, her face a picture of violence, cruel and ruthless. She’s unstoppable—an avenging goddess whose power will crash against my enemies like waves upon the shore, washing them away.
The avenging goddess looks up, meeting my gaze. I see the darkness in her empty, black eyes, and I’m gripped with fear. That creature down there isn’t me—she’s some lost, twisted version of me. But what if that’s my future? What if I keep changing until I can barely recognize myself?
“Ana…”
