58. THE ELDERWOOD #3
“Well, given everything we know about your power, and mine, and the fact that we’re mates . . . My theory is that it’s referring to you and me. The two of us, ushering in the prophecy together.” I laced my fingers into hers. “Stars.” I squeezed. “And ash.”
“Stars and ash,” she repeated. “It . . . makes sense. Now that I think about it, even Amarna hinted at it. She said we would need each other. But why didn’t we see it before?”
“I think we were all so focused on you and what your power had to do with it, that we were distracted. But that’s not a bad thing. You’re what’s most important. Without you, there would be no chance at ridding the world of Lyceius. You’re the one with the blood of the gods.”
“But if it somehow requires both of us, both our powers . . .” She trailed off as she searched my eyes. The moment she spotted the self-doubt that was lingering there, she winced. “You think you don’t have enough control to use yours on such a vast scale . . .”
If I didn’t already know she was human, I’d have sworn she could read minds.
I slowly nodded.
“Niall, I may not understand everything about how power and magic work, but I know enough to say that it’s the will of the heart that controls it.
We all have the capability to use our gifts for good or ill.
It’s what we choose in our heart that determines the outcome.
You cannot lose sight of that. When you lose sight of the good, that’s when you run the risk of losing control and giving in. ”
The shadows that wafted around us stilled.
They were watching her. Listening. I felt their curiosity like a hum in my own consciousness.
They were comprehending everything she was saying, and committing it to memory.
Sentient things, indeed. They twined themselves around our hands, seeming to understand the bond that was there, and the importance of what was being discussed.
“Your faith in me is a blessing,” I said.
“I will always have faith in you. I love you.”
“And I, you.” I pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “But I need you to know the risks. If I use my power like I did at Gabbath . . .”
“What if you don’t need to unleash it at that capacity this time? What if . . . you just save it for Lyceius, like I plan to do?”
“Something tells me I need to be prepared to do both.”
“What are the risks if you did both?”
“I could burn out.”
I’d let a fraction of it loose at Gabbath. I didn’t descend deep enough to tap into the deeper reserves. If I did that now . . . I wasn’t sure what might happen.
“And if you burn out?”
“I could die. And then you would be alone, and I would never forgive myself.” The very thought of it made my heart ache.
None of us were immortal. Death would claim each of us some day, whether it be in the near, or distant future. The time would come when my life would reach its inevitable end, regardless of how much we tried to fight it. And Auren would be a goddess, fated to go on without me.
But until then . . .
Auren squeezed my hand tight. “Then don’t burn out. Don’t let it get that far.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to just walk back from it when I sense I’m too close?”
“You’d better.”
A welcome smile tugged at my lips, but the unease remained.
With this act came great risk. I would do it though, for her.
This power, the shadowfire, the darkness, no matter how terrible it might feel, no matter how difficult it had been to master and contain, it was worth it, if I was meant to help her.
“I also spoke to Amarna, and she told me that we have an unusual advantage when it comes to all of this.”
She raised a brow. “What’s the advantage?”
“You know how our essences embrace in our minds whenever I mind-walk? I can use that link to let you tap into my power. It can be like an extra reserve to yours. I think that’s what the prophecy is referring to when it says ‘a flame of light’ and ‘a flame of dark.’”
“So, I would essentially draw from your power as well, and use it to reinforce mine?”
“Essentially.”
“And that won’t burn you out?”
“It would all depend on the situation.”
She frowned. “I am not going to risk burning you out, Niall.”
“Don’t worry about that. The power transfer is just a backup option, in case I can’t actually unleash my power alongside you.”
With that statement, she seemed even less confident. “I don’t like the way any of this sounds. It’s as if we’re planning to lose before we even begin.”
“No, darling. I’m just trying to see this from every angle, and prepare for a lot of unknowns.” I tugged her into my chest and breathed in her scent, soaking up the warmth of her body, letting those things drown out the lingering doubt that kept trying to push its way to the forefront of my mind.
“What about the cù-sìth?” she asked.
My jaw hardened at the thought of the creature and its ill-fated omen. “The good thing about the cù-sìth’s omen is that we don’t know when it will come to fruition.”
“Only that it will,” she said, distress dampening her voice.
“Does it bother you?”
“Of course it does, but I can’t afford to think that way.”
“It bothers me too,” I admitted.
“Well, the prophecy’s wording sounds pretty positive. So, let’s stick to that mindset, and we will face whatever comes our way, together.”
A positive mindset. Yes.
Together. Yes.
Karios had chosen well with Auren. She was brave, and steadfast, and she’d accepted her power with overwhelming grace.
At times, I wished I could be in such harmony with my own power.
I admired her ability to remain unwavering in whatever she faced.
She was the very thing I never knew I needed before all of this.
She was my balance, my safe place. My strength when I couldn’t seem to find it in myself.
I held her tighter, proud that she was mine. I would rip apart enemies, armies, entire worlds, all for her.
Staring at the monochrome space around us, I felt like we were in another realm, another world, just the two of us. I savored the moment—the silence in it. The calm.
What I would give to be able to hold her like this forever.