Tana 2

Decades passed, and eventually our neighbors noticed we weren't aging—and how we acquired new furniture, tended the yard, and kept the house running with no visible income or help. They had no idea what we were back then; Afaria didn't even exist. But rumors began to circulate, mostly about me. They called me a witch and blamed every local tragedy on my "dark magic." It was just talk—barely bothered me. Though when Vetro heard about it he became enraged and the same day the rumor reached him was the day he murdered everyone. I stayed in the house crying, but I could hear the screaming. He trapped the whole city in a glass dome. Around midnight, he lowered the dome and the screaming stopped. The ground was dyed dark red until the rain came. He seemed happier afterward, taking me on walks every day to collect money or jewelry from the corpses and then bury the bodies. But when he saw how much it disturbed me he sent me home and instead just brought back "gifts."

Sometime after that, I got pregnant, we raised our first 5 children in that dead town. They weren't able to form a connection with their wings, even after we taught them how to do the summon. That's when we discovered that they were mutated, with featherless bat wings permanently attached to their back, as if to say that they shouldn't have been born. They could only minimize the wings and their ability to fly was much slower and clumsier than ours. Vetro seemed proud of them though and raising the children seemed to heighten his libido, so I was with child again in no time. 2 years passed and an investigation was done, to find the missing townsfolk. V killed the first round of investigators but after that, we moved and raised our next 10 kids in a new place. I wanted to love them, but it was difficult just acknowledging their existence at all. Especially since Vetro insisted on making it clear that we were siblings to all the children, he seemed to get pleasure from being sure their sense of morality was skewed like his.

I never went outside since I could no longer hide my face. V was the one who helped me with my bandages before and now he strictly forbids me from ever hiding my scars. It isolated me. So, he and the children handled all social affairs and work.

Eventually, our children married humans from the surrounding areas and thankfully the powers (heightened strength and elemental control) were a dominant gene. They shared their powers with their lovers as well and once our population grew large enough for a small city Vetro devised a plan. He reviewed notes he had taken from our mother when she taught him how she created Infaniya.

We moved onto unnamed islands in the meantime, only visiting the mainland to find love or go to college. When a human was brought in, they were informed of our nature and given power. Many were lured in by that promise of power, eternal youth, granted wishes, or love. Since our population had become stable, Vetro invented a new way to make the humans useful, in his words. Our people were taught how to drain life force from humans in order to fill the gaps in strength that they were lacking, it lowered the rate of genuine relationships with humans, but it fixed the issues some were having with flying or elemental control. I knew he was pleased but this only disappointed me further, though at this point in time there was no one who would be swayed by how I felt.

It took one thousand years to create Afaria and to keep the planet stable, Vetro tethered his soul to it. It took another 100 years to move all of our people there. I had 13 more children with him in our new world.

I have to believe I'm happy and this is what I wanted, otherwise, I will break and there will be no way to fix me. The children are products of the moments when I could successfully fool myself. I'll just try being satisfied with Vetro's happiness. 

I would be... but he wasn't happy. Out of bitterness, he declared war against Infaniya, aiming to kill our remaining siblings. Finding out our mom was still alive inside the core of the planet was the motivation. I kept hoping that each time he gained something it would satisfy him and he'd show me his old self again, our family... our new home, riches, power... none of it was ever enough. I truly saw him and realized his obsession with me was only an extension of the obsession with our mother... Part of me still hoped he was just a brute when it came to showing love, but I was wrong he didn't love me. I felt like most of my life was a waste.

On Afaria, Vetro believed that the strongest should rule, so he made himself king. Whenever he was contested, he'd win brutally. The Afarions became accustomed to his rulership, some feared him, and others loved him... the masses who didn't really know him. If there were any strong enough to challenge him, they didn't because they respected his leadership.

Five hundred years later, the Chosen phenomenon began.

Across both worlds, seven children were born—marked by destiny, branded by the elements themselves: Fire, Mist, Lightning, Thunder, Water, Smoke, and Sound. I could feel it the moment they arrived… like the planet itself stirred awake. We learned to identify them by strange tattoos that bloomed on their skin like branded prophecies, usually after their fifth birthday. They were prodigies. Terrifyingly gifted. Wildly uncontainable.

Another hundred years passed before a spy from Infaniya whispered a truth that set my soul ablaze with possibility—a ritual. A way to deepen the Chosen's bond with their element. To push them beyond their limits. The final step, however, involved intimacy. Physical. Sacred. Dangerous.

On Infaniya, this ritual was reserved only for spouses. And now... I understood why.

When I told Vetro, I saw his fury before he even spoke. His voice was low, but laced with venom.

"I can't trust them. What if they turn on me after they've tasted that power? They're already too strong… I need them dependent. I need control."

To him, loyalty was worthless without submission. Power in the hands of anyone but him was a threat. I should have expected that. I'd watched him choke the sky for less.

Still, I hesitated… and then I said the unthinkable.

"I… I can perform the ritual with them. I already train them. They trust me."

The silence was suffocating. Then his eyes flashed—a brilliant, merciless blue—and the air crushed me. The whole room trembled. My knees gave out under the weight of it.

"YOU?!" he roared, his voice echoing like thunder ripping through glass. "You would dare offer yourself to someone else?!"

I stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor as the walls cracked around me. His rage twisted the air itself, shaking the room to its bones.

"It's only a ritual," I choked out, heart hammering. "I don't care about them—I'll stay detached. I'm doing this for you! The prophetess said that if we unite all seven, we can finally end this war. But they won't even marry until they're fifty—we don't have that time!"

His glare burned hotter than flame. I kept talking, desperate now.

"This is our chance. I'm not desirable, V. No one's going to fall for me. Look at me—look at what I've become. But I've stayed with you. Always. You can trust me."

That's when he went quiet.

Dead quiet.

"...Tell me you love me." He commanded softly with pain in his eyes.

"What?" I replied, dumbfounded by this request.

"You don't get it, do you?" His voice cracked—just slightly. "You never say it. Not once. And now you're offering yourself to strangers like it means nothing?! Do you even care what that does to me?!"

It hit me like a blade to the chest. I'd never said it. Not once. Not in ten thousand years. He whispered it constantly, sometimes multiple times a day. A mantra. A warning. 

And I—I said nothing.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered, the shame and guilt flooding through me. His tears fell, and something deep inside me shattered. Even after everything he's done, I can't help but be weak to his emotional state. I reached for his face. "Of course I love you, V."

He kissed me then—roughly, hungrily, like a starving man reclaiming his favorite meal. That same searing passion he'd shown since the beginning. The same hunger that blurred the line between desire and domination.

After that… my memory fractures. Something black and heavy settled over me. I know what happened—I felt it—but I don't remember it.

When I came to, he was still on top of me. Naked. Breathing evenly in his sleep, buried in the rubble of the collapsed room. Servants walked in to clean the mess, carefully averting their eyes as if they'd seen this scene too many times to be shocked.

Later, I found out he'd agreed to my request. He even accepted the compromise I'd somehow offered, proposing a harem for him. So he'd have other options. So it would feel "fair."

I still can't believe I said that.

But it worked.

Instead of every night, Vetro began calling for me three to five times a week. Just enough to remind me who I belonged to, but not enough to suffocate me completely.

And finally—finally—I had just enough space to start working with the Chosen.

To train them. To prepare them. To someday set them free.

After the 3rd incarnations were born, Vetro instructed me to stop brushing my hair and wear shabbier clothes. I had no reason to appear even slightly appealing to them. I understood his worry because despite my face, 2 of the 2nd generation incarnations developed feelings for me, they fought amongst each other, and even challenged Vetro on my behalf. One asked me to run away with him, and the other was always cold and scolding me, so I had no idea how he felt. In retaliation, Vetro killed all 7 of them the day he found out, which reminded me of how powerful he was. He also made changes to my wardrobe, going as far as to burn whatever he considered too sexy.

I didn't feel comfortable making the offer for the Power Ceremony with the 3rd generation of Chosen (The ones alive when I learned the method) but when they went to war they died so quickly, and it happened again with the next generation so I steeled my resolve to at least give the option to the future incarnates. The only downside is I didn't realize that when I offered to perform the rituals, different spirits would start to inhabit my body, sometimes manipulating my thoughts and other times taking over me completely and making me do things I can't even recall. To perform them, I had to take on the essence of their element of the person I was with. Which was harmless when done with one person, but doing it multiple times with different elements came with some terrible side effects.

No one ever pitied me or grew feelings for me after that, and we sent all 7 of them to the frontlines of battle over and over. Somehow, they usually died on the same day as one another, never living past 100 years. The last incarnations before the present ones were a bit different; some died days or weeks apart, and the Chosen of Earth lived for 3 years on their own. So the new generation was born likewise, incarnating as soon as the old host perished.

One night, on the way to my room, I was cut off.

"You cunning bitch!" Natasha's voice cracked like a whip before her hand did—slamming across my face so hard my vision blurred. My head snapped to the side, and for a moment, the world went quiet except for the sharp, pulsing ache in my scar.

I could've hit her back. I wanted to. But she was pregnant… and I knew what I was capable of when I stopped caring.

Would I be able to live with myself if I hurt a child, even one still inside her?

"...I'm sorry," I whispered, pressing my hand against the pain blooming in my cheek. My wound—the one Larina gave me—never stopped aching. Even a slap could rattle my bones. Even words could.

But she wasn't finished.

"It's because of you I never see my husband! Twenty days! Do you know what that feels like?!"

She was talking about V... as if he were hers. As if he considered her anything more than a name in a list he barely glanced at.

"There are over a hundred others," I murmured. "You're lucky he sees you even once a month. He must cherish you."

Her eyes flared. Literally. Fire danced across her skin before she struck me again, this time not with her hand, but with flames. A series of them. Bursts of pain bloomed along my arms and chest. My barrier flickered into place on instinct, but not fast enough. The baby. The baby. I couldn't strike back. I had to stay still.

"You dare say that's gracious?! When he crawls into your bed nearly every night?! When he looks at you like you're some... some tragic, beautiful goddess and I'm nothing?! I smile for him, I wait for him, I try—and still, he chooses you! You ugly, cursed—"

She didn't finish. Her body jerked violently—a steel arrow pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the wall with a sickening snap.

And then, he was there.

Vetro.

The air shifted the moment he entered. He didn't look at her first—he looked at me. Curled up on the floor, tucked inside my barrier, trembling. My cheek throbbing. My arms raw.

And just like that, the temperature in the room dropped to nothing.

"What are you doing?" he asked, softly—dangerously.

I knew that tone. It wasn't a question. It was a sentence.

"I... I was just teaching her a lesson," she stammered, panting, pinned in place by agony and fear. "She started it! You know I'd never—"

He was across the room in a blur.

His fist met her face with a force that shattered it, and her body crumpled like paper. I flinched, but I didn't scream.

"Wait!" I gasped, staggering to my knees. "Don't hurt the baby. V... that's your child."

Everything froze.

For one heartbeat... two...

Then he turned, furious breath heaving, and came back to me. His hands found my face—gentle now, trembling—and he kissed me over and over, frantic, like I was a lifeline keeping him from drowning.

"You think I care about a fetus more than you? Tana... she hurt you."

"I'm okay," I said weakly, extending my arms. "She didn't really get through the barrier. See? Just burns."

He kissed me again—deeper this time, as if he wanted to consume the hurt. Then he turned to the servants who'd begun to gather in silence.

"Tend to her wounds. Keep that woman healthy... until she delivers my son."

They rushed to obey. I was lifted—carried into his bedchamber like a broken thing wrapped in silk.

"I was so worried…" he whispered, already over me, always over me. "I don't know how I'd live without you."

So I did what I had always done.

I told him I loved him. I kissed him. I lied.

If I didn't, he might never stop.

Later, I learned that he killed her.

Natasha.

The mother of his child.

He waited until she gave birth, and then he ended her with his own hands.

And now every time I see that child—his eyes, her nose, that flicker of fire in his fingers—I see her dying again. I see her calling me ugly. I see her burning me, and I still feel the guilt.

Another life lost because of me.

I'm unraveling. I can feel it. The blackouts are worse. My moods twist with the wind. I'm not surviving anymore—I'm just suspended, just rotting.

Somewhere along the way, I went past broken. There's no name for what I am now.

That baby was part of the new generation, Chosen by the Spirit of Fire.

One by one, the new Chosen trickled into the palace. I was shocked that, despite being the youngest, Valin was one of the first to display his powers. But he lacked ambition; his only joy was studying, a scholar is no use in a war that I desperately need to end. That's why I admired Zaikiel; his face showed the desire to take over, the willpower, and the intellect to win.

He would do what I could not.

That's how the war ends. With him.

Not Vetro. Not Infaniya.

Him.

Let the old king die.

Let our mother rest.

Let me go.

With Vetro dying. He wants to steal the core from our homeworld, embrace our mother, and doom all of Infaniya in the process?! The 7 finally overtaking him, instead, is the only logical outcome, and this generation is the strongest so far. I need to embrace a life where Vetro no longer exists, so I need to ensure it happens.