Page 43 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

43

FINNLEAH

I closed the door behind me. The rusty hinges creaked loudly in my wake, signaling my departure to the entire village despite my best efforts at staying silent. I flinched, freezing in my step for a second, waiting for the storm of swear words to pour over me. But Priya stayed asleep as if she were dead. Not a huff, not even a breath out of order. She slept so calmly that I checked on her every few minutes to ensure her chest still rose. It did. Every time. And yet it still didn’t stop me from placing my hand under her nose to ensure the air was still flowing. After hours had passed, I finally had enough of dealing with my worrisome heart, sneaking away from the small cottage.

I took a step outside.

The previously beautiful Dragon’s Island village was broken and destroyed. Moss-covered straw roofs were torn to shreds, fences ripped out of the ground, trees cleaved down their middle. There were no lights flickering in the broken windows, no hushed whispers of teens sneaking around at night. No, instead, a previously harmless and peaceful village was covered in scattered carcasses of dead creatures. Blooming flowers and young grass covered in tar-like blood, wilting underneath it.

I took a step closer to the creature on the right of me. I knew it was dead, but I still found myself reaching for Heart Piercer, hastily tucked into the seam of my pants. My muscles ached, bones sore, fingers slightly swollen and palms shredded from the fighting earlier, but I didn’t care as I stabbed the creature’s empty eye sockets. Once, then twice, then thrice. Sticky black blood slowly trickled down its face, dripping into the grass by my boots. My legs barely moved, each step exhausting me more and more until I’d fall, no longer able to keep walking. I was exhausted. Even my fire, gradually replenishing within me, stayed quiet and calm. My thoughts tucked far away as I walked from one creature to another, stabbing their bodies, ripping their wings.

There were so many of them.

But I’d get to them all.

One by one, I struck them under the cover of night. A useless task, I knew that. I stabbed one more, my body protesting with each motion, but I pushed through any reason.

I had to keep moving. I had to keep going.

All the residents stayed in the caves below, not willing to risk coming back just yet. And there wasn’t much to come back to. Their little haven destroyed.

In the morning, the creatures would burn, their bodies would be gone, tar-like blood dried and turned to ash. Overtime, homes would be restored. Roofs, doors, hinges would all be replaced.

But that feeling of peace and safety that they had here before would never come back. A little place of paradise Gideon spent years building, now tarnished and violated.

My heart broke at that. I twisted the dagger tighter into the dead carcass of the creature.

A silver streak ran down my face.

“Oh, fuck off,” I angrily mumbled to myself, whipping away the treacherous drop. But tears only poured harder. I groaned, stabbing a few more creatures near me, but the harder I worked, the more I cried.

I had cried as despair choked me.

And for once, I was no longer sure I could continue. That I could withstand another death, another soul-wrenching cry of a mother burying her child. My body, my mind, my soul, were so exhausted. Another day and I would surely crumble into nothingness.

I had hoped . . . I knew the world would continue somehow.

And yet I wasn’t sure if I could. If I could continue carrying the burden that had been placed upon me.

The weight of the world suffocated me entirely, as if I felt each cry, each soul begging for mercy, for justice. For a reprieve.

And I found myself completely helpless. Absolutely useless.

Unable to soothe their wounded hearts and their shattered spirits.

I was ready to sacrifice myself and yet even then it was not enough to end the suffering, to ease their afflictions.

The horror-filled stares from the freed slaves still lingered on my skin. Their devastation and panic settled deep within me. I had listened, and I had helped, and I had buried those that weren’t quite as lucky as others. Loss after loss corroded the hope that I held on to so desperately.

The never-ending what-ifs swirled in my mind, drowning me in self-doubt.

I was a fraud. I was a nobody. A runaway slave.

And yet people believed in me. Placed their faith, their hope in me.

Savior of the people and Protector of the weak.

Fools. Couldn’t they see that I was none of those things?

I couldn’t even protect the one person I loved the most. I couldn’t figure out a way to save him. And that thought wounded me deeper than any blade ever could.

Gideon saved me. Again and again.

While I stumbled across every step I took on my path.

I had no business leading a nation.

I had no business even being his wife.

My thoughts, no better than vultures, gorged on my dying hope.

But battered and bruised, I carried on, striking the carcasses one by one. Despite the tiredness. Despite the grogginess settling in deep behind my reddened eyes. My dagger found its mark again and again.

I wasn’t sure how long it had been. How many hours had passed?

Tears had long dried, replaced by a certain lulling daze. My hands were numb, muscles strained and burning. I wiped a bead of sweat off my brow, pausing only for a moment. I was mesmerized by the first signs of the rising sun on the horizon.

The previously dark sky brightened by the slightest hint of pink. Beams of sunlight broke through the heavy clouds, erasing dusk inch by inch.

The light was making its way through the darkness to illuminate the world once more.

Gideon once thought that love was all prevailing.

But love wasn’t all prevailing.

It was all enduring.

Even in the darkness of night, even in the midst of the deepest despair, it would withstand, patiently waiting for the sun to rise, for hope to blossom once more.

I stabbed the next creature, yanking my dagger harshly out of its eyes.

“I’d go for the balls, just to be sure.” Xentar softly chuckled, and I whirled on my heels to face him. “Early morning?” He took a look at my sunken face. I tried to find the strength to give him anything resembling a smile. Tried and failed. “Why aren’t you asleep, Finn?” he asked as our eyes met.

“For the same reason you aren’t,” I said, returning to stabbing a pile of creatures.

“You needed to take a piss?” he joked. His usually rambunctious voice was dull, lacking its spark, still heavily weighted down by the events of the day prior.

“Precisely.” I grunted, shoving my dagger straight through the vile creature’s skull.

“Marital life must be exhausting from the looks of it.” Xentar glanced around, a sorrowful look flashing across his face. He folded his arms, observing me striking the creatures down the path.

“You have no idea.” I huffed a weary snort.

“Finn . . . When was the last time you slept?”

“I’ve been somewhat occupied.” I dismissed his very clear concern.

“How long?” This time, his voice was scornful.

“Do you truly want to know?” I paused, looking at him.

“Yes.”

“I am not sure anymore. Once in a while I’ll black out for a few minutes, then I come back. Whether it’s sleep or some other curse, I don’t know.”

“Gods, I didn’t realize it’s gotten that bad.” Xentar rubbed his brow. “What was the vision?” he asked, his words ripping the dull numbing comfort I worked so tirelessly to create. I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to reply. “Finn,” he repeated, “What was the vision?”

I masterfully ignored his attempts. There were so many more creatures. I jammed my blade deep into their eyeless sockets. I could do this. I could stab and strike them again and again. Perhaps that’s what I was going to do for the rest of my life. Not everything else that awaited me in the morning.

“Finn!” Xentar called out, green beautiful vines wrapping around the blade.

“You don’t want to know,” I gave him a grim response.

“Oh, on the contrary. In fact, as your trusted mentor, I deserve to know why my diligent student is on the brink of insanity—” I ripped the vines off Heart Piercer and pushed the blade through the leathery skin of the creature. “Or perhaps beyond it. What is it that you saw?”

“Death. I saw the Goddess of Death.” I exhaled. A part of me was relieved to share the burden, a part of me was devastated that there was one more person now needing to carry its weight.

“Shit.”

“Yep,” I mumbled, not wanting to turn around, to look at him, lest I see the matching devastation at the truth.

“Did Gideon ever tell you how his mother died?” Xentar quietly asked. I shook my head as dread choked me at the mention of him. “He spent years looking for her. After she had given birth to Gideon, Diamara hid her away. For protection or perhaps from jealousy, whatever her reasoning, that woman knew what she was doing because the Seer, his birth mother, disappeared off the face of the earth. Gideon dedicated years searching for any traces of her. Until one day he had found her, but by then her mind was already corrupted. You see, she was a Seer, an untrained one, but also a powerful one. She had many visions, uncontrolled. At first they were minor, then as time went on they became stronger, then they became all-consuming. Her mind lost the threads connecting her reality. She still could’ve lived for a long time without a sense of herself. Gideon would’ve taken care of her for years, providing all she needed for the little moments of clarity in between. But she had a particularly bad vision one day. One she never recovered from.” He paused, and I felt his gaze on the back of my head. “Do you know why?”

I had my guesses. I knew the story had no happy ending.

“No,” I managed to reply.

“Because she refused to sleep after it. The medicines helped at first, the little naps in between, but soon those were not enough. Days went on, then weeks, and soon after . . . ” He swallowed hard. “Gideon was there when she died. You are a Destroyer by nature, so perhaps you have a bit longer than her. But you have to sleep, Finn. You have to.”

“What am I supposed to do, Xentar?” I questioned, willing my voice to still. “Every time I close my eyes, the visions start, but they all have one thing in common. Death. People die. I die. He dies in a fucking torturous death. And the visions never stop. I tried so hard to block them, to fight them off. Tried to see beyond the terror and the horror to find peace, but there is none that I see . . . ” I gave him a half glance over my shoulder. Xentar’s kind gaze met the franticness of mine. Deep, heavy sorrow intertwined his every breathtaking feature.

It was easier to stay awake. To never sleep.

Insanity, exhaustion, were nothing compared to the pure torture and agony I endured when I attempted to fall asleep.

“Gideon had once asked me the same question. He too was exhausted and particularly devastated one night after fruitlessly searching for you across the entire continent after you escaped. A part of him was so relieved to know that you existed, that he had met you, even under such terrible circumstances that they were, because it gave him so much hope. No longer alone. A future. And yet a part of him missed the freedom of the ignorance he had before he had known that a female Justice Wielder existed. Because, you see, not finding you consumed him, destroyed him bit by bit until he would wither away. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat. The questionable choices he had made were jarring even for him. The hope he had of ever finding you dwindled in him like the last flicker on a candle—one move and it’d go out forever. So, you ask me what you are supposed to do, and I’ll tell you what I told him then. I told him, take that devastation, take that agony and fear, shove it up someone’s ass and go take a damn nap.” Xentar’s lips stretched in a perfect smile. “Hope requires courage, Finn. And being courageous is fucking exhausting. So, take a break. Force yourself to take a break. And if you can’t do it for you, do it for me. Do it for every single person out there that still stands despite the challenges ahead. And do it for those who have fallen along the way.”

“And after? What do I do after?”

Xentar’s golden eyes darkened as he scanned the scattered carcasses around the ruined homes and tainted fields.

“And after. After, you find the Queen and make her fucking pay.”