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.

Rheyna!” Myra instructed sternly.

lungs as a crease formed between her brows. I knew she was just trying

concentrating enough.”

my time here, about my connection to Myra. How she felt somewhat like a mother figure, something I’d

I

her hand against me once

dug deeper, to the feelings

pain of being abandoned… to the anguish of

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

the pen.”

to sting at my eyes now, but I did my best to hold on to

finally, Myra seemed to hesitate. Only if slightly.

over her… but it still wasn’t enough.

in my head… to

I saw flashes of memories

made

blood… of wolves… of a night

And running.

So much running.

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

hand twitched towards me, ever so

pen,

me what I’d asked

course,” she said, her voice in a dreamy state. “Whatever you want.”

dug into something inside that went beyond anything I’d intended to, the memories starting to flash with more frequency.

feel it. Feel

was unbearable. All stemming from the

“Promise me you won’t stay behind.”

who I was talking to anymore but Myra’s expression changed to one of confusion, the influence clearly still working but the context

do you mean?” she then asked.

…And I blinked.

and pulled myself out of the memory, my body

gone

now that there was a barrier there for a reason, things I didn’t want to recall. And as retribution for

a moment to breathe and then, slowly, I looked back up towards Myra,

worked. Maybe too well. An accomplishment in itself

her like this, to be completely docile and willing to do anything I asked. In the wrong hands, an ability like this

I knew that adding this to my already fatal skillset would only make the damage I could create far worse.

maybe too

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

she said, coming back to reality. “Did it work?”

getting her bearings before finally focusing

began to fuss over me with a

worked, instead choosing to further

scolded. “You’ll learn how to use it eventually.

had just happened, much to my relief, but it still didn’t make

potential for harm than I ever realised.

anymore,” I announced. “I appreciate your help though.”

aback, her hand

go by

more about it but, instead, her expression became confused before slowly spreading into a small smile.

the beauty 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 Hidden

one of

of us, the people forcefully assigned

a book from the bookcase, bringing 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 individuals that were new.

which looked a lot like… me.

them all out. “The Siren… The Angel of Death.” Myra had sighed before

“…The Raven?”

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,

picture, the resemblance unquestionable.

Iris hurt people?” I asked cautiously.

is… it’s a symbol