Ballad of Whispers (The Sunchosen Chronicles #1)

76. Name You Chose

Chapter 76

IRIS

A sharp inhale yanked me back to the present—the golden-lit room in the basement of the Raven’s Grove unchanged from before.

“Dearest?”

My head hung low as I blinked, dragging myself from the nightmare’s clutches. Pain lanced through my wrists as I stretched them, the skin there discolored and slick with a waxy sheen.

“You must be more careful when working with new draughts, Dove,” Zinnia chided, rummaging through the folds of her skirts. She produced a tin of salve, holding out her hand. “Too many experiments like this, and you’ll burn the whole place down.”

I blinked again, slowly, trying to adjust to the brightness pressing in on me. Each movement sent fresh agony through my skull, forcing my eyes shut in search of relief.

“What?” My voice was raw, the syllables jagged.

“Don’t you remember?” Concern crept into her tone.

“Remember?”

“Another fire like that, and we’ll have to adjust your privileges,” she tsked, slathering ointment onto the edge of my wrist.

“Mother?” I rasped.

“Yes?”

“What…” The words tangled on my tongue, resisting me. “What is my name?”

She set the tin aside and knelt before me. “Oh, dearest,” she whispered, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Iris. Your name is Iris Virlana. Don’t you remember?”

“That name… did you give it to me?”

“I did,” she nodded, eyes wide. “It is the name I gave you.”

“Please do not forget it,” I murmured, meeting her gaze.

“I would never,” she assured me, her hands settling on my shoulders. “I would never forget your name.”

“Good,” I whispered, fingers curling around hers. “Because you were right.”

Confusion flashed across her face.

“I am exactly who you made me.”

The dregs of my reserves roared back to life, golden Threads snapping free and twining around her hands, searing hot. A harmony rose in the air as the Threads twisted, spun, and devoured every flicker of flame before converging at the center. The cage snapped shut around her wrists. She scrambled backward, the fear in her eyes unlike anything I had ever seen.

“I am a weapon,” I pushed to stand, my voice clear. “But I will never be yours again.”

My entire life, I had been a puppet, passed from one hand to another.

A bird in a golden cage, celebrating its release only to find a more palatable prison.

Never again.

I belonged to no one.

A jar crashed to the ground as she backed into the wall, and the magic that spilled free rushed toward me, seeping into my skin.

“I want you to remember the name you gave me, Zinnia,” I growled, standing over her. “Because it is mine now. This is the name I choose. You do not get to take the person I have clawed out of every dark place to become—the one you cast into chasms of despair.” My voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. “She is mine.”

Smiling, I reached deep inside, gathering the last drops of my essence.

“And now, you will watch as the name you chose—the weapon you honed—becomes your ruination.”

Gold flared around her, a distorted halo. Years of my magic, siphoned for her gain.

It would never be theirs again.

So I screamed.

The Threads within me surged outward, seeking their kin.

And then, with a crack that shuddered the world?—

I detonated.