Page 107 of A Monarch's Fall

“Damia didn’t. And the way she felt… It wasn’t unique. Many in the coven felt the same. And those who didn’t? They couldn’t blame those who did. Many deserted to the Enchanters Guild. But your grandmother became more militant. The entire inner circle of Flores did. It wasn’t long before The New Foundation was born.

“When your mother developed as a dual user, your grandmother became obsessed that it had to be due to her mixed magic heritage. By the time your mother was in her early twenties, her siblings had already had children, hoping to create more dual users. From what your mother knew, your grandmother wanted to create a whole new generation of Flores loyal dual user witches. A coven that could never be abused and ignored again. A coven that could take revenge.

“Damia wanted no part of it. She was gentle; she hated violence, and even arguing upset her. I remember raising my voice soon after we first met; she had almost drowned herself, and… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that she cried so hard you’d have thought I had said or done something terrible. Anyway, your grandmother became convinced that mixing Flores' magic with the other covens could produce stronger and stronger witches.

“She began a program to create more mixed Flores witches. Nasty stuff, that is, creating life with that type of intention. Your grandmother wanted Damia to join the program to create the first of the second generation. So, your mother ran. We met. We fell in love, and she hid out here for a few years, and we had you. That’s everything. No more secrets.” He rubbed his hands on his knees anxiously.

“She did it,” I said, and he turned to look at me. “I mean, Lady Flores — she’s not my grandmother, blood doesn’t automaticallyequal family — she made a generation of dual users and some with novel abilities like me.”

“You have a novel ability?” he asked, his eyes widening.

I looked away in shame.

“Yeah, you didn’t hear about it? Ana didn’t tell you while I was in the shower?” I asked.

“I don’t know a thing. What is it?” he asked.

“Death,” I said quietly.

“Death?” he asked.

“When I harness my magic, it doesn’t allow me to use more magic as it does for others. It bursts out of me as something new. As a cold death. Real death. Not like winter, when much of plant life simply rests, but true death. I destroyed an entire garden, a whole grove and… I don’t know if you know about it, but in Ardens, there is this maze.”

“I know,” he said.

“It was made with inter-coven magic, and well, I could control it. On my own,” I revealed.

“Percy, that… this… I don’t… this isn’t good,” he settled on, stumbling over his words.

“No, I know,” I said.

“Who knows that you can do this?” he asked.

“Everyone. I didn’t exactly hide it; I wasn’t expecting it to happen. The revelation of my novel ability was a pretty big public thing. It’s why we had to leave Sanguis Academy. Selene became terrified that the Academy wasn’t safe for me, so we went to House Ardens… it wasn’t safe for me there either,” I explained.

“You need to leave,” he said sternly.

It was like being slapped across the face. My father had never harmed me in any way, but he was telling me to leave my home because of my magic, because of the danger I was to everyone and it physically hurt.

“O-okay,” I stuttered out past the lump in my throat.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll get the trawler and a crew ready tonight. It can handle a few weeks at sea; if the weather is steady, it shouldn’t take much longer to get you across the Eothinos sea and to Fenryd. We’ll do a collection, see what we have to spare in terms of better winter clothing. The coin you sold yourself for…” he growled, obviously still angry about it. “You’ll take it. It’s gold; it’ll be good anywhere.”

He turned to me and took my hand in his. “I know what they say about Fenryd, but nowhere is ever that much different; people are the same everywhere, really. They’ve got the cold there much worse than us, but they’re rich with oil. They have cities that you can’t imagine. You can make a life for yourself there. Change your appearance, learn the language, you’re the type to fit in anywhere —”

“Wait, you want me to leave? Leave the Borealis Kingdom? Not leave the village?” I asked, interrupting his fast-talking plans and realising with relief that he wasn’t sending me away because he thought I was too dangerous to be around.

“Of course! You can’t stay here, Percy. It’s too dangerous. Not with a gift like that. You’ll never be safe here. You need to leave. Go somewhere where no one knows who you are and keep this ability to yourself. And to think I almost believed that she could care for you adequately. If she had any sense, she’d have shipped you off the day your novel ability showed itself,” he continued, angrily speaking of Selene.

“None of this is anyone’s fault,” I defended her.

“No one could predict a novel ability, but it doesn’t take a fortune-teller to predict the outcome of an ability that could starve the land,” he said.

“I’m not leaving the kingdom… not without her,” I told him pointedly. “Everything I’ve done, that I’m doing, it’s all to getback to her,” I said, my hand unconsciously moving to my chest, to where something was missing.

“Percy, staying is a death sentence,” he said. “And I cannot allow it. I know you’re wilful and I’ve always allowed you to make your own decisions when appropriate, but you’re not capable of fully recognising and appreciating the situation that you’re in —” he began.

“Stop it! You don’t own me. You’re my father, and I love and respect you, but I’m not your responsibility anymore. I have people here that I care about and need to try to help. I’m not going anywhere… not yet anyway,” I said.