weight of power

Pain anchored me to the world before I could even open my eyes. My body ached as though it had been ripped apart and stitched back together with jagged thread. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. I wasn't sure if I could ever be the same after what I had done.

Low voices murmured outside the tent. Their words drifted through the thin fabric, heavy with both awe and unease.

"She's not normal."

"She saved us."

"And if she turns on us next?"

I exhaled slowly, willing the sting in my chest to dull. I had expected resistance, but the doubt in their voices still cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

With effort, I pushed myself up, ignoring the dizziness that followed. I couldn't lie here and listen to their uncertainty. If they saw me as a threat, I needed to face them.

The Rebels' Divided Loyalty

Stepping out of the tent, I was met with silence. Dozens of eyes locked onto me—some filled with respect, others with wariness. Roran and Naela stood among them, their expressions carefully guarded.

"We need to move," I said, forcing my voice steady. "More enemies will come."

A beat of silence stretched between us before one of the rebels scoffed. "And what are we supposed to do? Follow a monster?"

The word slammed into me like a physical blow.

Naela stepped forward, her voice sharp with warning. "She saved us. She's the reason we're still standing."

The rebel sneered but didn't say anything more. The air between us remained tense, thick with uncertainty. They feared me. And I couldn't blame them.

Malrik's Private Conversation with Me

Later, away from the others, Malrik found me. I was standing near the edge of the camp, trying to calm my mind, when his voice cut through the night.

"Quite the show back there," he mused, leaning lazily against a tree. "Didn't know you had that in you."

I didn't answer.

He pushed off the bark and strolled closer. "But I wonder, princess… was it you? Or something else?"

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He tilted his head, watching me too closely. "Power like that doesn't just happen. It's either a gift… or a curse. So which one is it?"

I had no answer.

Malrik smirked, but there was something calculating in his eyes. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Whatever it is… I think it's beautiful."

My pulse stuttered, but I forced myself to look away. "You should go."

His laughter was quiet but knowing. As he turned to leave, he tossed a playful smooch in my direction. I rolled my eyes, but when I looked down at my hands, I realized—I was trembling.

The Throne Spirit's Power Overwhelms Me

That night, the whispers returned.

"You are one step closer."

I found myself standing in a vision, the world around me twisting with darkness. The throne spirit's voice slithered through my mind like a living thing.

"See how they doubt you? How they fear you? You don't need them, Elaris. You only need power."

I shook my head. "No," I whispered.

"They will betray you. They always do."

The shadows thickened. The battlefield unfolded before me once again—but this time, I wasn't just watching.

I was the cause.

Bodies lay at my feet. Rebels. Enemies. Even Naela. Blood soaked my hands. I staggered back, but the scene didn't change.

"This is what you could become."

The throne spirit's voice curled around my ears, soft, coaxing.

"Stop resisting. You saw how easily they turned against you. Take my power, and they will never challenge you again."

The rebels' voices echoed in my mind.

"Monster."

"What if she turns on us next?"

"She's dangerous."

My fingers curled inward, nails biting into my palms. The shadows crept closer, feeding on my doubt.

"Let me in, Elaris."

For a moment—just a moment—I considered it.

And then, a blinding golden light shattered the darkness.

The Guardian Spirit's Intervention

Wings of pure radiance spread wide, cutting through the abyss like the dawn breaking over a long night. The darkness recoiled violently, the throne spirit's whispers twisting into sharp hisses of anger.

Zephira emerged. Her form was ever-shifting, flickering between countless figures, yet her presence was unmistakable—an overwhelming force of warmth and power.

"You will not have her." Zephira's voice was both a whisper and a roar, echoing in the endless void.

The throne spirit shrieked. "You interfere where you do not belong."

Zephira lifted a hand, and the golden light intensified, forcing the darkness back. "She is not yours to claim."

The throne spirit lashed out, its tendrils snapping toward Zephira, but the guardian met the attack with a blade of light, slicing through the corruption. Power clashed, the force of it sending shockwaves through the void.

I dropped to my knees, hands clutching my head as the war inside me raged.

"Elaris, listen to me." Zephira's voice cut through the chaos. "Do not give in. The enemy is closer than you think."

The throne spirit let out a final, furious screech before the light consumed everything, shattering the vision into nothingness.

Awakening & Moving Forward

I gasped awake, my body jerking upright.

Strong arms caught me. Malrik.

Dizziness swam through me, but his grip was firm, grounding. A teasing smirk played on his lips. "You keep fainting, princess. Starting to think you just want me to catch you."

I groaned, shoving him off. "I can walk."

He let go, but as we moved, his fingers brushed against mine—so subtly that no one else noticed, but I did. A quiet reminder that he was still there.

The rebels still didn't fully trust me. The throne spirit still haunted me.

But one thing was clear—my war was far from over.