Page 57 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

57

FINNLEAH

T ime seemed stagnant in this space. The dazzling twin suns above me only occasionally switched places, but never lowering below the horizon.

We strolled down the eternal white sand.

Trying to understand everything all at once, I asked a mountain of questions but only felt like I ended up with a million more.

“So all the powers I have are yours?” I questioned.

“Somewhat yes. You are also a Destroyer, so you have a foundational gift of your fire, but the rest were contributed each of us. That is why your powers are much more advanced and at times also harder to control,” Petra explained as we walked. “Magic abides by its own rules, we are just the wielders of it. With our sacrifice, it also changed the way your powers revealed themselves. Usually Destroyers see their powers develop quite early, but they conflicted with you other quite advanced powers, it muted your fire, and the raw fire you inherited from Diamara was not so eager to let you control it, rather unruly. But naturally, it is easier for you to express fire because, after all, you are a Destroyer at heart.”

“However, you are a much more capable Creator than you think. Though they might have taken a different shape of a creature within you, my powers are majestic beings ready to be unchained,” Railin added, giving me a little smirk. “If I had to guess, they may be a bit hesitant to coexist with the overwhelming fire coursing through your veins.” The rustling of chains . . . Those large yellow eyes . . . Even here, I felt it move within me, like whatever the creature was, it recognized its previous wielder near me.

“Raw fire does make it more complicated. It’s a very strong, sometimes overbearing magic. But my Seer magic is also a powerful contender. So, it found a way to present itself, taking over while your Destroyer mind slumbered each night.” Petra’s wrinkled face grinned, her smile putting me at ease. “You are a very powerful Seer, Finnleah. Not only can you force your visions to obey you, but you are also blessed by Fate herself to see how the future takes shape. You simply need to believe in yourself.” Petra patted me on the shoulder.

“I’ve been trying to control them, but . . . ”

“You are a goddess, Finnleah. You are in control of your own fate. Remember that next time you doubt yourself.” Petra’s wise eyes sternly glanced down at me, but then softened. “But I am sure a lesson or two could be arranged.” And I smiled full of gratitude.

“I have yet to see any of the healing powers expressed in me,” I told the High Lady of the Healers honestly. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t heal anyone,” I confessed.

Ocsanna’s lips stretched wide as she noted, “Oh, sweet child, to the contrary. Your healing powers have been more prominent than others. Sometimes being a Healer doesn’t mean to only help with physical wounds. Sometimes it means mending of the broken hearts and wounded minds. And look”—She gestured to the clear waters where outlines of people I had come to know and care for—“Look at them.”

I looked at Tuluma, broken-hearted from losing her family, her people, her kingdom as she found purpose and healing, caring for a small child who loved her selflessly. I watched Viyak laugh and grin at my sarcastic jokes as we hugged deep in the darkest caves of the Rock Quarries. I looked at Priya, ready to burn down the world, realizing that perhaps there was one soul she’d tolerate, one soul that would care for her despite her flaws and wounds.

I stared the most at Gideon, as one who hid his broken heart underneath layers of obligations, plans, and a terribly arrogant attitude. I looked, and I watched him heal.

There were so many others.

“You’ve come across their broken hearts and mended them at times when they needed to be seen, to be loved, to feel hope, even when they thought it was impossible to do so. You made them feel accepted and understood. Even the darkest souls long for reprieve. One you so generously give. Few Healers have a gift of such caliber. You might not have my typical healing powers, but that’s because you took and shaped them into something much more encompassing, healing not just their bodies but their souls,” Ocsanna assured me, as she looked me in the eyes, “With that being said, you do have physical healing powers from me as well.” She gently grabbed my wrist, tapping her fingers three times as she whispered, calling on them.

My brows shot up as a golden vein of healing light flickered under my skin at her touch.

“See, it’s always been there.” She let go, and the shimmer disappeared. I rubbed my wrist where I had seen the golden vein sparkle only a moment prior.

“So, a few lessons on that as well will do me some good . . . ” I sheepishly smiled.

The four High Ladies and I conversed, diving deep into their magic. My mind gobbled up every piece of information it could hold, praying that I would not forget anything.

I nodded and listened and practiced and learned again and again.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Death suddenly appeared.

“You must now return,” she stated calmly.

“But I . . . I still have so much to learn. To know . . . ” I shook my head, reluctant to leave the peaceful paradise.

“The time has come, Daughter of the Dead and unless you have decided to instead ascend to your throne right now, you must leave.”

But I didn’t want to ascend, I wanted to live. To age. To love.

I turned back to the four of them.

“I—”

“It’s okay, go, Finnleah. Live for us,” Railin encouraged, and I hesitantly nodded.

“Will I see you ever again?” I asked.

“No. Now that you’ve reached this point in your ascension, our purpose is served,” Petra explained.

“I wish I had more time. I still have so much to learn, to understand.”

“Oh, our dear child, but you do have more time. To learn, to understand. To live.” Ocsanna nudged me, a gentle, loving smile on her face.

“So it is goodbye then,” I mumbled, embracing each one of them, heart weighing heavy in my chest. Unmeasurable gratitude and sorrow mixed together; joy, happiness, and yet sadness and mourning all perfectly intertwined into a beautiful tapestry.

“When you see him,” Diamara whispered into my ear as I hugged her last, “tell him I am always proud of him.” She hugged me tighter. “Lead our people with the light you carry. No amount of magic will ever outshine your true self.” She let go, taking a step back, and I couldn’t help but notice the silver streak of a tear as she whispered her goodbyes.

The azure waters shimmered more, the suns above me growing larger.

I glanced feverishly at the four women quickly disappearing around me.

“Thank you!” I shouted in my wake. “Thank you for giving me time.”

Death and I reappeared back into the shapeless white space. No end or beginning in sight.

“Ready?” she asked me, curiously.

“Is one ever ready to be a god?” I shrugged, shaking the chill from my skin as all the information, all the plans, settled in my thoughts. Of what was to come. Of what I was, of what I was to do.

“One can try.” Death smiled. She moved her hands, and a new veil appeared—one that would lead me back to the mortal world.

She reached for the shimmering fabric. I took a step forward, pausing on the threshold as I glanced back, brows furrowed.

“Can I ask you why?” I met her piercing gaze. “Why accept their bargain to give my soul more time? You receive no benefit from it.”

Death stayed silent, as if she was considering whether to grant me an answer or not. She snapped her fingers twice. In the blink of an eye, her figure changed. At first to a young girl, one that I had met on the island only days before. But then a moment later, she changed once more into an older version of the same girl.

“You . . . ” I gasped, realizing why her face was so familiar. “That day . . . my visions . . . the Desolate Desert . . . the painting was of you?” I gaped at her, shocked. “ You are Lady Dynaya? You are the runaway goddess? You are the one whose powers we have?”

She nodded, amused at my surprise.

“You ask me why I granted their bargain. Because time is something I wish I had.” Her eyes met mine. “Time to live, to see my children grow into adults, to see my husband and I grow old together. I wished for more than anything to have the time I had lost.”

A second realization hit me then.

“You wrote the book?”

“Yes.” Death chuckled at the memory. “I wrote lullabies to all my children to remember me by.”

“They were lullabies . . . ” I rubbed the side of my head. “But why would my vision point me to those?” I questioned, more so to myself.

“You were seeking a book of spells, and your visions showed you one.” At my confused look, she explained, “Motherly words spoken to their children are the strongest spells and magic one could do. They will linger through generations, and depending on the words, can be the biggest curses or the strongest benediction one could ever find.”

And just when I thought I couldn’t gain any more revelations, my body and mind exhausted to beyond its limits, I had understood one more thing.

I knew exactly what I must do with the Queen.

The Queen’s soul trembled, trapped between her body and mine. Lunging, jumping from one place to another as if tethered to a leash, never able to distance herself too far from my body. My blood rolled down Heart Piercer mixing with the Queen’s blood, anchoring her to the In-Between.

I stood still, observing, organizing the thoughts within.

It was always so clear.

How had I not seen it before? I pondered, taking another look at the Queen.

“You can’t kill me!” Her voice was distorted as she shouted at me. It was odd to see her soul like this, tainted, shattered like glass broken into a million pieces. “I shall evade death!”

My eyes gazed at the calm waters around us as we stood on the familiar shore next to her castle, near our motionless bodies. In this trance, the surroundings were muted, colors reflecting the sunlight were dull, lacking their usual shine.

“Death is not what you should be afraid of, Insanaria,” I finally replied. “Death you might evade, but justice? No, even gods shall be brought to justice,” I uttered. There was no anger in my voice, only command, only power. “And now you shall receive your ruling now.” At my words, my powers flared. All of them shaping into something of a divine nature.

It was as if the knowledge had always been a part of me, as if I always had the authority over it.

Without even a thought, my soul called upon hers in a way only a god could command, revealing my true nature.

Insanaria’s shouts quieted as her distorted soul trembled, falling down to her knees. Her eyes didn’t dare look up even as I moved a step closer, celestial glory illuminating my every step.

Like a book, I could see all her transgressions, all her wrongdoings, all the mistakes and vile decisions she had made.

I also saw the intentions of her heart. I saw her darkest thoughts and her deepest desires.

I saw all of her.

At last, I raised my hand above her head, declaring her verdict.

“For your transgressions, for all the pain you have caused, and the harm you have inflicted on so many, you deserve punishment,” I declared. “So, for every innocent life you have taken with vile intent, you shall serve a servitude in the darkest realm of cursed demons.”

Insanaria didn’t beg, her eyes still glued to my feet. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was the absolute acceptance of defeat. A small tremor rolled through her body. My hand still hovering above her head as I sealed her fate.

“But for all the pain you have endured, for the innocence that you have lost at the hands of others, for everything you have suffered so young, you too deserve a reprieve.”

I called upon Death waiting behind the veil as it lifted.

There were no introductions needed as Insanaria erupted in sobs, immediately recognizing the young woman appearing near Lady Death. She was a near copy of her mother crying at my feet.

“Each time the moon passes you shall be allowed a visit with the one you love the most, should she wish to see you.” The corner of my lips tugged upward as I glanced to the girl sheepishly standing behind me.

“Why?” Insanaria dared to glance at my glowing figure. “Why?”

“For justice to exist, mercy must be present. And besides, just because you’ve been wicked doesn’t mean your daughter must be punished, too. And she”—I glanced back at the young woman hovering near Death, who gave a subtle approving nod,—“she’d very much like to meet you.”

“Come.” Death extended her hand to Insanaria. “It’s time for you to pass through the veil.”

Insanaria nodded, wiping away tears from her eyes as she stood up, never taking her sight off her daughter lingering nearby, completely bewildered and amazed.

Death held the veil open, letting Insanaria and her daughter walk past her. The Mad Queen crossed the shimmering barrier, each step more confident than previous, and in her wake black thorns blossomed into beautiful blooming flowers once again.

“It’s been a while, Daughter of the Dead,” Death smiled, gesturing a farewell.

“Tell your mother, Fate, I am coming to deliver justice to her next,” I called out, feeling the pull of my physical body to reunite with its soul as my heart slowly resumed its beat.

“Tell the Lord of Death, I much rather prefer to work with you than him.”

My mouth opened as if to question further, but Death had already disappeared between the whiteness beyond.

“Goodbye, Finnleah, Daughter of the Dead, Goddess of Justice and Mercy.” Death’s eerie laugh echoed through the In-Between.

“Goodbye, Lady Dynaya, Goddess of Death, Keeper of Souls.”