Chapter 33: By The Pain I See In Others

Naomi pressed her back hard against the cold, crumbling brick wall of the alleyway, eyes squeezed shut, as if darkness alone might silence her racing thoughts. Behind her, Castin's voice continued softly, speaking gently to empty shadows, unaware that she had already vanished.

Each word he uttered tightened the knot of guilt twisting in her chest. She had left him standing there, pouring his heart out to a ghost she'd conjured, a hollow shell wearing her face. It was becoming so terrifyingly easy to shape reality around her like soft clay, molding perceptions, erasing herself as casually as breathing.

She shivered, pulling her trembling arms tight around her body as nausea coiled bitterly in her stomach. Her breathing quickened, and panic fluttered against her ribs. The power had always felt alien to her, something outside of herself, something borrowed. Now it felt different, rooted deep, a part of her she couldn't escape, growing stronger, darker, sharper with every heartbeat.

Come on sweetheart just let it free, give in

Naomi opened her eyes slowly, staring at her shaking hands. She could almost see the power shimmering there beneath her skin, ready to spill forth like floodwater behind a weakening dam. The sheer magnitude of it frightened her, its edges sharper than before, demanding control rather than asking for it. What terrified her most was how effortlessly she'd deceived Castin, how fluidly she'd stepped away and made him see only what she chose.

they just wanted to control ya girl, let it all out. 

What am I becoming? she thought, the question carving a raw edge through her mind. It had started as subtle nudges, gentle illusions. But now, her power felt monstrous, alive, eager, hungry to be used. It was getting harder to tell where her thoughts ended and the power began. Every choice she made blurred the lines further, every deception easier, every illusion deeper.

The cold night air bit sharply against her flushed cheeks, grounding her briefly, but the clarity didn't last. In her mind, she felt the constant, humming presence of the city around her, countless minds and hearts, each within reach if she dared. She recoiled at the thought, pressing her hands hard against her temples, as if she could hold back the vast ocean of consciousness threatening to spill into her own.

Any second now girl you're gunna snap.

"No," she whispered fiercely, her voice tight with desperation. "Not like this. I won't let it happen."

But the truth crept quietly through the shadows of her heart: She wasn't sure she could stop it anymore.

Concealed by her ability Naomi observed Castin hastefully exiting the hideout, a sorrowful grimace washing over his face as he scanned the horizon before leaving defeated. She watched him as he disappeared into the distance as she thought of a version of herself that decided to go with him. 

Naomi had stood there for what felt like hours, unmoving, as if time itself had conspired to trap her in this moment. She wasn't just paralyzed by the choices she'd made, but by the ones still clawing at the edges of her mind, unspoken, unrealized, yet already condemning. Inside, a war raged, and the longer she stood still, the more it felt like she was losing.

At last she tore herself from the wall and stepped into the corridor. Every footfall thudded like a hammer, heavy with dread and self-doubt. She'd sworn she was only trying to survive, only trying to shield the people she loved, yet something else had grown inside her, something black, coiled, and hungry, as dangerous as it was powerful.

Something she no longer recognized.

The world around her blurred faintly at the edges as anxiety and dread tightened their grip. She felt herself trembling, a fearful shudder rippling through her frame.

If this power keeps growing, she thought, the realization cold and stark as ice in her veins, what will I become?

Naomi forced herself forward, footsteps echoing quietly in the stillness of the night, toward the palace where she knew she would find Eli. But even as she moved toward the only person who had ever made her feel safe, a silent terror clawed at her heart, the fear that she herself had become the greatest danger of all.

Naomi stumbled through the shadowed streets of Rat City, each step echoing too loudly in her ears. She moved with an urgency that bordered on desperation, but the city felt different now, tight, oppressive, the shadows clinging to her skin, whispering doubts she tried not to hear.

I know you can feel it slipping, your control. 

The air around her shimmered faintly, distorted by the frantic surge of her unchecked power. The minds of the rats and humans she passed brushed softly against her awareness, their thoughts rippling like leaves caught in a stormy wind. She flinched at every touch, terrified she'd accidentally seize control, bend them to her will without meaning to. The boundary between intention and impulse was thinning, fragile as glass.

Take what you deserve, you've got the power, use it. 

Her heart hammered painfully, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Naomi halted abruptly at a narrow junction, clutching her head as the whispers around her rose to a roar. His Voice echoed in her skull, pulling at her, clawing at the edges of her sanity, as though her very being was dissolving into the cacophony.

It's coming, and sweetheart, you.

Can't.

Stop it.

"No!" she gasped, the word forced out through gritted teeth, but the chaos surged louder, drowning her plea.

Her knees buckled, and she sank heavily to the ground, fingers digging into her scalp. She drew ragged breaths, fighting to regain control. The power within her thrashed violently, demanding release, growing with every panicked heartbeat.

Memories rushed forth with relentless brutality, Roe's twisted smile, the cruel bite of the collar at her throat, the sound of a knife piercing flesh. Her own shaking hands stained red. And worst of all, she imagined Eli's innocent face, twisted in confusion, fear, and sadness.

Tears stung her eyes, mingling with the cold sweat streaking her face. "No," she whispered brokenly, "I'm not a monster. I'm not."

But her power whispered differently, tempting, comforting, horrifying all at once. It promised control, safety, strength. It whispered of a world shaped exactly how she wished, where pain couldn't reach her. Naomi shuddered violently, knowing it was a lie, knowing each time she reached for her power, she lost a little more of herself.

Yet a cruel truth echoed clearly above it all: she needed to see Eli because she had to know, needed to know if any part of her, the Naomi she'd once been, still existed. If she could still be seen by the one person whose gaze mattered most.

"I have to know," she whispered to herself, voice trembling with determination, "if there's anything left of me worth saving."

Slowly, shakily, she rose to her feet. Her breathing steadied, though fear still coiled tight within her chest. Naomi knew her decision was reckless, dangerous, but the need to see Eli one last time outweighed all caution.

Her power calmed slightly, settling beneath her skin, not fully tamed but quiet enough. She inhaled deeply, holding onto her resolve like a lifeline. The world around her sharpened into harsh clarity, every detail etched vividly against the dark.

Naomi turned purposefully, heading directly toward the palace gates. Her steps were swift, decisive, echoing through empty streets. The fear still lingered, pulsing like a second heartbeat, but she refused to stop now. Each stride carried her closer to the truth, whatever it might reveal.

As the palace gates loomed before her, she felt the power within her surge again, eager and unrestrained. She hesitated only a fraction of a second, knowing what came next would be irrevocable, a choice that couldn't be undone.

Show the world the real you, scars and all. 

Then she moved forward, no longer hiding, no longer hesitating.

Naomi didn't walk through the palace gates.

She forced them open.

The guards flanking the heavy stone entrance staggered backward, blinking as if wrenched from a dream. Her power hummed at the edge of her skin, weaving through the minds of everyone she passed, nudging, blurring, commanding. They moved out of her way without even understanding why.

Her breathing was shallow, her heart hammering, but her steps never faltered.

She was going to see Eli.

One last time.

The corridors of the palace blurred past in a haze of warm stone and muffled voices. A nurse rushed to intercept her near the infirmary entrance, arms raised in protest.

"You can't be—!"

Naomi's mind touched hers like a stone dropped into still water, and the nurse's resistance crumbled in an instant. She turned aside stiffly, her face empty, her hands falling to her sides like a puppet's strings had been cut.

Naomi pressed through the heavy curtain, heart leaping into her throat.

There he was.

Eli sat propped up slightly against a nest of pillows, a thin blanket drawn up to his waist, He looked tired but alive, truly alive and for a breathless second, Naomi's whole world righted itself.

"Naomi!" Eli's voice cracked with disbelief and joy.

She froze mid-step, her throat tightening. A dozen emotions crashed over her in a single, searing wave, relief, grief, guilt, love, so strong that her control slipped for half a heartbeat.

She felt it the moment it happened.

Felt the walls around her illusions falter.

Eli's smile faltered too.

His brow furrowed as he leaned forward slightly, his bright eyes narrowing, focusing on her with a kind of innocent, confused horror.

"…what happened to you?" he asked, voice small.

Naomi stiffened as if slapped.

Her scars, her real scars, were exposed. For that one fragile moment, she had been seen.

Really seen.

Her hand twitched at her side, the invisible tendrils of her power coiling tighter, reaching out with desperate, trembling fingers. In an instant, she wrapped herself again in the illusion, masking the ruined flesh, smoothing the broken edges, hiding the truth.

"Nothing," she said quickly, voice bright and fake and brittle as glass.

She forced a smile so hard it hurt.

"I'm just so happy to see you again!"

Behind her mask, the strain began to mount.

She could feel it now, dozens of minds just beyond the infirmary walls, pressing against her influence, trying to resist, trying to wake up.

The longer she stayed, the harder it was to hold it all together.

But she stepped forward anyway.

She crossed the distance to Eli's bedside and leaned down, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

He hugged her back, but slower.

More hesitantly.

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut.

She couldn't let him see.

Couldn't let him know how wrong everything was.

Eli's hand brushed against her arm, tentative. Searching.

"You're shaking," he whispered.

Naomi pulled back with another fake laugh, too high, too sharp, and smoothed his fur down with trembling hands.

"I'm just… excited," she said, the lie tasting like ash.

Eli watched her with a quiet, sad sort of worry that cut deeper than any words could have.

He could tell.

Even if he didn't understand what, he knew.

And Naomi realized, with a hollow sort of grief, that she couldn't protect him from it anymore.

Something inside Naomi shattered beyond repair.

She knew, deep down, she had lost the battle the moment she opened her mouth.

Knew that Eli no longer saw her the way he once had.

Not as Naomi.

Not as the one who had unbeknownst to him had carried him through the darkest hours.

He saw something else now.

The limit within her, the desperate, trembling barrier she had fought so hard to maintain, cracked wide open. Her power spilled out like floodwaters from a broken dam, wild and uncontrollable, a living thing born of her grief, her guilt, her rage.

The Paper Wolf had begun to fold and crease itself into something new.

Something harder.

Something that wouldn't shatter again.

Naomi staggered back, the air thick with suffocating pressure.

She could feel the minds of everyone in the palace clawing at her consciousness, guards, medics, servants, trying to think, to resist, to see her as something wrong.

Not a girl.

Not a victim.

An enemy.

She pressed her hands against her ears as if she could shut out the roar of their thoughts, their judgments, their fears pressing against her skin.

All she wanted was a clean slate.

A new chance.

A life that wasn't chained to the ruins of who she used to be.

"This isn't fair!" she screamed, voice ripping through the dark.

The walls trembled, and the flickering lanterns bent wildly on their hooks.

"He took everything from me!" Naomi shrieked, her body trembling violently. "Even you, Eli!"

Her eyes, once soft and unsure, blazed a brilliant, unnatural green, burning with the raw force of her unraveling power.

She had felt this once before, when Roe fell, when the world had narrowed into the blinding, unstoppable need to survive.

Eli lay frozen in his bed, shaking, his small form wracked by silent sobs.

Not because he hated her.

Not because he wanted to hurt her.

But because he didn't know how to reach her anymore.

The sight of him so weak, so broken, crushed the last pieces of Naomi's heart.

The lanterns snuffed out in a breath, plunging the room into blackness.

For a moment, Eli could see nothing at all only the eerie green glow of Naomi's eyes, bright and terrible in the dark, and the jagged outline of the scars running across her face, her arms, her soul.

Naomi's voice, stripped bare and trembling, filled the space between them.

"I want to start over."

Then, in the span of a single blink, she was gone.

Like a flame extinguished, like a ghost slipping through unseen cracks.

Eli sat there, blinking into the darkness, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs, a cold sweat slicking his brow. His chest ached with a grief he couldn't name.

The curtain rustled aside.

A nurse peeked into the room, cheerful as ever, her voice sweet and lilting. "Aww, what's the matter, dearie? Were you having a bad dream?"

Eli blinked at her, dazed, the room swimming slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

His heart thundered so loudly he could barely think, but when he tried to recall why, there was only a blur, a fading echo he couldn't grasp.

He swallowed hard and forced a small, embarrassed smile.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice hoarse. "I guess I must've been dreaming."

The nurse cooed sympathetically as she relit the lantern, bathing the room in warm, gentle light.

But even as the glow returned, Eli couldn't shake the hollow feeling gnawing at the edges of his mind.

The feeling that something important had just happened

Something terrible.

And now it was gone.