Page 28 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

28

FINNLEAH

T he shadows seeped through my thoughts. My mind, as if in the thickest fog, was blinded and lost. My old memories were indistinguishable from new ones, as images flashed before my eyes, haunting me. Torturing me.

I should’ve crumbled and should’ve broken down.

Godric’s screams behind my back told me that he definitely did, now that the shields were broken and shadows devoured him.

I let the nightmares swallow my mind wholly until the horrors and the screams filled every cell of my body.

Only a moment ago, it was just a hunch.

But now that I stood surrounded by palpable darkness, I felt the unfamiliar power within me drum, rising above the nightmares, waiting for me to command it.

So, unbeknownst to me how, I did.

I let the foreign powers guard me, cleansing me of every terrible dream that occupied my mind, like a vessel protecting me from storms.

The black mist sensed the sudden shift too, parting before me in a path. I took a step. The shadows shook, slithering away, wary of my presence.

So I took another step forward. And then another.

No longer haunted or afraid as I descended the rocky mountain of western Esnox.

I walked for the entirety of the day and when the night came; I didn’t stop, continuing on my path forward, indifferent to the hunger and the ache in my feet. Guided by some ethereal vision to propel me forward.

By the next day, I had finally reached the first town. More so, a small village at the foot of the mountain.

I stepped over a frayed body, nail marks covering the entire face where the man must have clawed his own eyes out. The town was swallowed by horror. Windows broken, doors ripped off their hinges. The smell of rotten bodies was nauseating, and I swallowed hard, fighting the bile rising in my throat. I let myself take a breath just a big enough for me to function before continuing my walk forward with clear vengeance in mind.

The loud cries and constant wailing rattled the eerie darkness. The sounds of haunted screams never stopped. The ones that were lucky enough to not be dead were too far lost in their nightmares to notice the shadows parting for me as I made my way through the town.

It was only then, when I noticed a young woman sitting on a old porch.

A mother.

Her eyes locked with mine.

Her matted hair tucked behind her ear, dress stained and ripped. But she held her tiny baby tight in her arms, rocking her, nursing her to sleep amid the horror.

She didn’t reach for the bloodied axe she kept close. Though I didn’t fail to notice her assess me with the most primal motherly instinct. An ally or a foe?

I paused, overtaken by the raw wild power felt within me at the sight.

There was no doubt the woman was haunted, just like the others. The pale shade of her skin and the dull, glass-like stare from the nightmares ready to consume her was apparent by a single look at her. And yet, she’d clawed through all those terrors to keep her child safe. She fought each minute, each hour with no relief in sight, without any indication of reprieve.

She hoped and so she lived. Each minute. Each hour. Each day. Waiting for the sun to rise once more, hoping for the shadows to fall one day for her child to thrive.

She hoped.

And so I would too.

A ripple of raw power flashed in me.

Enough.

There was enough suffering.

Enough pain and hurt and broken hearts.

I would bring mercy. And I would bring justice.

Mercy to those who have endured for so long. And justice for those who had lost so much.

I would make the wrongs right. I would fight every oppressor and bring them to their knees.

For her.

And for me.

Darkness might wander, but light would always guide. Laviticus’s words echoed in my soul. I felt the thrum of power ring in my ears.

A loud clap sounded above me, and I jerked my head up. Out of nowhere, Liriya dropped familiar swords into my hands. Her loud caws echoed through the darkness like a song and a calling.

I didn’t think twice, catching both of the heavy swords in my hands. The rubies radiated red, even in the darkness. A single blink and they ignited with flames at my touch. Whatever magic they contained expanded the rivers of fire flowing through my veins into burning oceans.

A single thought and the world would burn. Rivers, mountains, cities. I felt the fire cry to let it free. To let my rage devour everything it reached.

But I found myself looking back at the mother. She stood, the axe in hand, unsure.

A single thought and the world would burn.

And hope would rise from the ashes.

I shoved both of the swords deep into the pebbled earth and let my powers overtake me, letting my fury and my mercy cleanse the world.

Flames, like a tsunami wave, rattled the earth.

The world burned, and so did the darkness within it. My powers incinerated every ounce of the poisonous mist, every flicker of the Black Shadows as I held on to a sliver of sanity within me, to the memories I had and ones I hoped to have.

I kept my eyes closed even as the last wave of fire rippled through me.

My powers settled, now no more than a little stream from the former tumultuous oceans.

The previous loud wailing and gnashing of teeth turning into revered whispers.

I opened my eyes. At first, blinded by the sudden pass of brightness.

The flames were gone, and so was the darkness. The warm rays of sun illuminated the town left unscathed by the infernos. People froze in their steps, afraid to look around, afraid of feeling the aftershocks from the darkness. Their eyes were glued on me, unsure and still afraid.

My fire didn’t touch the living, not their homes, not their livestock.

But just as the darkness was gone, so prominent was my lingering power that new a fear flooded their minds.

For every person knew, the day had come where everyone who owed was going to pay their fair price.

I yanked both swords out of the ground. The heavy weight of the metal drained the little strength I had left. Liriya landed on my shoulder, her curious eyes scanning the crowd, waiting. The silence grew heavier, and the crowd circled around me.

I made a step to move, and the people stumbled, stepping away.

But it was that young mother with the child that rushed out of the crowd towards me, dropping to her knees as she proclaimed,

“All hail the Empress of Esnox!” She bowed to the ground. “Savior of the people and Protector of the weak.” She held her baby closer. This time it was me who stumbled a step back. But she didn’t move, keeping her head low as she loudly repeated, “All hail the Empress of Esnox, Savior of the people and Protector of the weak!”

I reached for her to raise her up, but in that moment, one by one, the rows of people followed her call. Their hungry and marred bodies dropped to their knees, bowing deeply as they too proclaimed,

“All hail the Empress of Esnox, the Just and Merciful Ruler, Savior of the people and Protector of the weak.”