A Gift from the Goddess

Book Two – Ch.# 43

“Breathe,” Myra said, gesturing with her hands for me to inhale. “Breathe and hold it.”

We’d been at this for a few hours now, Myra doing her best to teach me what she could. She seemed to know a lot about how the ability worked despite not possessing it herself. Though, as she had already previously pointed out, she’d raised a few generations of Knight children.

Truthfully, I didn’t expect to feel as comfortable around her as I did. We’d only just met but there seemed to be a deeper connection, something that was drawing me to her. A feeling of safety and reassurance in her presence, perhaps.

“…I am,” I muttered.

“Then ask me for this pen,” she said, holding it up in front of me. “Remember to dig deep inside, connect with that spark, and pull it forward.”

I did as she instructed, doing my best to reach for it. But it was difficult, increasingly so. The more we did this, the worse a headache was pulsing in my mind, slowly becoming worse.

I reached… and reached… and reached… and when I thought I could feel the spark, I grabbed a hold of it.

“Myra… could you please give me the pen?” I asked, trying to maintain it.

I watched as her eyes dilated for merely a second, her hand twitching towards me. However, she quickly snapped out of it, clapping her hands to sever the link.

I’d learned this was a method of breaking the influence, the loud noise intending to startle me. Though she had warned me that this may not always work, especially once I become accustomed to the abrupt distraction.

“I know you can do better than that,” she said, pursing her lips.

And I sighed in exhaustion.

“You’re struggling to connect,” she noted. ” Are you holding yourself back? Don’t be afraid to rely on your wolf if you need to. They can help if you let them.”

And I bit the inside of my cheek, uncomfortable.

“I’d… rather not,” I said.

She tilted her head. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“Well… we just don’t, ah… get along, I suppose,” I admitted.

“But you’re the same person?” she said, as if it should have been obvious. “Your wolf is just an extension of yourself.”

And yet I hated that creature with a passion.

“If you are warring with your wolf, Rheyna, then it just tells me you have a lot of conflict inside. To hate her is to hate yourself. And to put blame on her for something she did is merely a method of scapegoating her for your own mistakes, your own guilt.”

I let her words sink in, unsure how to feel.

…Could that really be true? I guess I had blamed the beast for most of my problems despite my own actions being not much better. Anything it had done, I had technically done as well.

My struggle was born out of fear, out of anxiety that things would go wrong if I allowed it even an inch. It was out of a hatred for losing control… out of feeling a painful longing for things I missed.

“How about trying… an emotional stimulus,” she then said, making me look up confused.

She held a finger to her chin as if she were thinking.

“Aria had trouble with her wolf also. She once told me that she learnt how to use her ability by using emotional energy,” she continued. “This is why stressful situations tend to heighten the effect. Perhaps try thinking of something that conveys a strong emotional response for you… then hold onto it as you go again.”

The only strong emotion I was feeling right now was immense defeat and a keen desire for a relaxing bubble bath… but I doubted that would be good enough for this exercise.

And so I paused to think a little deeper.

I had no shortage of emotionally charged memories. I’d lived through enough pain, fear and heartbreak to last me a lifetime. But they were dangerous to use, requiring me to dredge up feelings I’d purposely buried for my own protection.

Though… I guess there were some more recent events that could work….

“Think… then breathe,” Myra instructed. ” Hold it in your chest and concentrate. Connect.”

Connect. Right. Okay.

Connecting deep inside myself… to the newer emotions surrounding my time here….

Something that simply caused my headache to worsen, but I pushed through it.

“…Can I please have the pen?” I asked.

came out flat.

it, Rheyna!” Myra instructed

hand roughly against my chest, almost forcing the air out of my lungs as a crease formed between her brows. I knew she was just trying to help illicit an emotional response from me.

not concentrating enough.”

like a mother figure, something I’d never

pen,” I

her hand against me once more, clearly not

to the feelings I

being abandoned… to the anguish of having to grow up alone….

someone who treated her with love and kindness. To the betrayal that Myra had chosen her over her own blood.

me the

my eyes now, but I did my best to hold

to hesitate. Only if

over her… but it still wasn’t enough.

to push past the barrier in my head… to grab

saw flashes of memories as I did

that made no sense.

a night

And running.

So much running.

pen,” I huffed, unable to stop the tears from flowing now.

twitched towards me,

the pen,

she finally gave me what I’d asked

she said, her voice in a

inside that went beyond anything I’d intended to, the memories starting to flash with more frequency. Just still images that perplexed me, snippets that I

feel it. Feel the emotion

it was unbearable. All stemming

cried. “Promise me

sure who I was talking to anymore but Myra’s expression changed to one of confusion, the

mean?” she then asked.

…And I blinked.

of her question, I blinked and pulled myself out of the memory,

I’d gone too far.

to recall. And as retribution for this

moment to breathe and then, slowly, I looked back up

itself given how resistant she was

was uncomfortable to see her like this, to be completely docile and willing to do anything I asked. In the wrong hands,

make quick work of utilising. I knew that adding this to my already fatal skillset would only make

maybe too great.

I took one final look at Myra… I proceeded to clap

back to reality. “Did it

her bearings before finally focusing on

she said, and began to fuss over me with a tissue, dabbing it against

instead choosing

to force it so much,” she scolded. “You’ll learn how to use it eventually. It takes practice.

much to my relief, but it still didn’t

was clear that this had more potential

anymore,” I announced. “I

her hand freezing. “What? Why? Rheyna-.”

by Raven these

instead, her expression became confused before slowly spreading into

from your Sullivan mother and the Knight eyes of your father,” she said. “I’m almost sad that you don’t take after me at all, but… it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Just like that nickname of yours.”

“Myra…?”

original Council as well,” she continued. “She hailed from the

east. By far one of

like the rest of us, the people forcefully assigned her a nickname upon

it over to show me a picture inside. It contained the four faces I recalled from the painting in Ashwood, Myra’s unchanged one included, but also two other

which looked a lot like… me.

before saying her own, clearly unhappy with

“…The Raven?”

she said. “With pitch-black hair as dark as a raven’s wing and all the intelligence to match it. Your great-great- grandmother. She was a vital person in the establishment of the Silver Mist but, after

stared at her picture, the

hurt people?” I asked cautiously.

a symbol