Page 9 of Favored by the Stars (Bound by the Veil #4)

Chapter Nine

Thorn

I squared my shoulders as my shadow self emerged from the swirling mists, a twisted reflection with eyes that gleamed with malice. Its voice, a distorted echo of my own, slithered through the air. "You've failed them all. Your court, your friends, even Senara. You're nothing but a disappointment."

The words struck me like daggers, each one aimed straight at my deepest insecurities. I gritted my teeth, tightening my hand around the hilt of my sword. "You're wrong. I've always done my best to protect those I care about."

"Your best?" the shadow laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Your best is never enough. You'll always fall short, always be the one who lets them down when they need you most."

My resolve wavered under the weight of self-doubt, images of past failures flickering through my mind, the times I had been too slow, too weak, too late. Its words wormed their way into my heart, feeding the guilt that gnawed at my soul.

Then, a flash of memory: Senara's love, Ronan's friendship, the warmth of our companionship while we had traveled together. It reminded me why I fought, why I pushed myself to be better. Shaking my head, I spoke in a low, fierce voice. "No. I may not be perfect, but I will never stop trying. I will never stop fighting for those I love."

I grunted as my sword clashed against the shadowy replica of myself, the impact reverberating through my arms. Its taunts cut deeper than any blade, preying on my insecurities and guilt. "You'll never be enough," it hissed, its voice a twisted mockery of my own. "You'll fail them, just like you've failed everyone else."

I gritted my teeth as my shadow self lunged forward, its blade a dark mirror of my own. Its words echoed in my mind, each one a barbed accusation of failure and inadequacy. "You're weak," it hissed. "You can't protect them. You'll fail, just like you always have."

But as its words threatened to engulf me, a surge of strength from the unwavering support of my bond with Senara ignited within me. It was enough to remind me of her belief in me, her love and trust, a reminder that burned brightly in my heart, chasing away the shadows of doubt. With a roar of defiance, I met my shadow's blade, my own weapon glowing with the radiance of the sun.

"No," I declared, my voice ringing with conviction. "I am not weak. My strength comes from those I love, from the bonds we share. And I will protect them, no matter the cost."

Our blades clashed in a dazzling display of light and shadow, each strike a testament to my resolve. I poured every ounce of determination, every shred of love and loyalty, into each blow. The shadow began to falter, its form flickering and wavering under the assault of my resolve. For a moment, victory seemed within reach.

Then, without warning, the shadow's form shifted and expanded, absorbing the darkness around us. It grew larger, more menacing, its features contorting into something barely recognizable. With a swift, unexpected movement, it feinted left before striking from the right, a move I hadn't anticipated.

Pain exploded across my side as its blade sliced through my defenses. I staggered backward, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The shadow laughed, the sound echoing in the chamber like broken glass.

"You see?" it taunted, advancing with newfound confidence. "This is how it always ends. You, bleeding and defeated. Those you love, abandoned to their fate."

I pressed my hand to my side, feeling warm blood seep between my fingers. My sword felt impossibly heavy now, my arm trembling with the effort to keep it raised.

The shadow struck again, driving me to my knees. My sword clattered to the ground, just beyond my reach. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision as the shadow loomed over me, its blade poised for a killing blow.

"It's over," it whispered, its voice almost gentle now. "You've failed, just as you always knew you would."

In that moment of defeat, a strange clarity washed over me. The shadow was right, but not in the way it thought. I had been fighting it on its terms, with strength and skill alone. But this wasn't a battle of blades; it was a battle of wills, of identity.

"You're right," I said, my voice steady despite the pain. "I have failed. I will fail again. But that doesn't make me a failure."

The shadow hesitated, confusion rippling across its features.

I continued, drawing strength from the admission. "My mistakes don't define me. My fears don't control me. They're part of me, yes, just as you are."

I reached out, not for my sword, but toward the shadow itself. "I don't need to destroy you. I need to accept you."

The shadow recoiled, but I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the burning pain in my side. "You are my doubt, my fear, my guilt. And I embrace you, because without you, I wouldn't strive to be better."

As I stepped forward, arms outstretched, the shadow's form began to waver. Its blade dissolved into wisps of darkness. I pressed my advantage, not with violence but with acceptance.

"You are not my enemy," I said, my voice growing stronger. "You are the part of me that pushes me to protect those I love more fiercely, to fight harder, to never give up."

The shadow trembled, its outline blurring, shimmering, like dark water disturbed by a stone, then reshaped itself. The malevolent eyes softened, the twisted sneer transforming into a familiar, stern expression. My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the face forming before me, my father.

Not as I had last seen him, proud and distant on his deathbed, but as he had been in my youth: strong, unbending, with eyes that could cut through excuses like a blade through silk.

"Father?" I whispered, my voice suddenly that of a boy again.

He stood before me, not as a shadow construct but as a memory made flesh, wearing the ceremonial armor of the Sun Court's Captain of the Guard. The position I had inherited. The legacy I had always feared I couldn't uphold.

"You were never supposed to be a warrior, Thorn," he said, his voice exactly as I remembered, deep, resonant, uncompromising. "You were too soft, too hesitant. I tried to forge that weakness out of you."

The words were familiar, echoes of a hundred training sessions where my best had never been enough, where every victory was met with criticism of what could have been done better.

"I wasn't weak," I said, finding my voice again. "I was compassionate. There's a difference."

My father's image circled me slowly, his gaze appraising. "Compassion gets warriors killed. It gets those they're meant to protect killed."

"No," I countered, straightening despite the pain in my side. "Compassion is why we fight at all. Without it, we're just killers."

The specter of my father paused, his expression unreadable. "You never understood what it means to bear the responsibility of protection. The sacrifices required."

Understanding dawned on me then, this wasn't just my father. This was the embodiment of every expectation I'd internalized, every standard I'd tortured myself trying to meet.

"I understand sacrifice better than you think," I said quietly. "But I refuse to sacrifice who I am to become what you wanted me to be."

For a moment, something like pride flickered across my father's face, an expression I had rarely seen in life. "Perhaps... perhaps I was wrong about some things."

The admission, even from this manifestation, sent a shock through me. My father, the real one, had never admitted to being wrong about anything.

"Your softness..." he continued, his form beginning to fade at the edges, "perhaps it is not weakness after all, but a different kind of strength."

I stepped forward, reaching out to him even as he began to dissolve. "I've spent my life trying to be you. To make you proud."

"No," he said, his voice growing distant. "You've spent your life trying not to be me. And in that, at least, you have succeeded."

I staggered backward, breathless. The weight of my father's words pressed down on me, heavy yet liberating. His form had vanished, but the truth lingered like the fading echoes of his voice. I was not a failure; I was not the shadow he had forged me to be.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the grove, sending leaves spiraling in a chaotic dance around me. The air crackled with energy, reminding me that I wasn't alone in this fight. Senara's spirit burned brightly in my mind, her unwavering courage anchoring me against the swirling doubts.

"Thorn!" A voice broke through the haze of my thoughts. It was Kaelyn, her expression sharp with urgency as she appeared at the edge of the clearing.

"Where is Senara?" Panic surged through me as I scanned our surroundings. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing a growing sense of dread.

Kaelyn's brow furrowed as she stepped closer, eyes darting around us. "She's still in the trials, she has to face them alone."

"Alone?" My voice rose with disbelief. "She can't do this by herself! We should be there with her!"

"You have to trust her," Kaelyn replied firmly. "She's stronger than you realize."

I shook my head, frustration boiling over. "Stronger? Maybe. But what if she falters? What if?—"

"Thorn!" Her voice cut through my panic like a blade through silk. "You need to let her find her own strength! You know this journey is about more than just you or me; it's about her finding who she is."

Her words rang true and settled like stones in my heart, grounding me amidst turmoil. Still, doubt clawed at my insides. I had watched Senara struggle too often, watched her wrestle with shadows that mirrored my own insecurities.

"Trust," I muttered under my breath, half-convinced myself. Trust felt like a luxury we couldn't afford right now.

Kaelyn stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "We both know what she can do, what she's capable of when she embraces herself."

I clenched my jaw but nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to steady myself. She deserved this chance; we both did.

With renewed determination, I turned toward the portal that had appeared, watching it as it pulsed with magic. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I knew that the portal, whatever it was, wasn't our exit. It was just a distraction.

Spinning on my heel, I turned to face the oncoming threat, blade raised into a defensive stance, which was lucky since a new shadow had come to fight. My chest tightened as I locked gazes with myself. Only this version of me was completely feral, corruption lining my, it's, skin. As our blades clashed and the sound of metal on metal reverberated through the air, I felt a seed of doubt sprout in my heart. Was this a fight I could actually win?

The feral version of myself lunged at me, teeth bared and eyes ablaze with a twisted hunger. I barely dodged the first strike, my heart racing as I barely brought my blade up in time to deflect the second. The clang of steel echoed through the grove, each blow sending vibrations through my arm.

"You're weak!" it snarled, voice dripping with venom. "Look at you! You're afraid of what you might become."

I gritted my teeth, pushing back against the tide of despair threatening to overwhelm me. "You're not me! You're just a reflection of my fears!"

The shadow twisted its lips into a grotesque smile. "Am I? Or am I everything you've tried to bury? The part of you that knows you're not enough?"

With a roar, I charged forward, determined to prove it wrong. Our blades clashed again and again, sparks flying like fireflies in the night. My instincts kicked in, drawing from years of training, of every lesson my father had imparted surged within me.

"You think your strength can save them?" it taunted between strikes. "You'll fail them all!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, swinging my sword with all my might. It caught the shadow's shoulder but felt like cutting through mist. It merely laughed, a sound filled with mockery.

"See? You can't even hurt me." The shadow flickered for a moment, a fleeting hint of uncertainty washing over its features.

In that instant, something shifted within me. I understood now, this wasn't about defeating an enemy; it was about confronting the truth lurking in my heart, the doubts I carried like stones in my soul.

"No," I said firmly, lowering my sword for just a moment as clarity struck like lightning. "You don't get to control me."

I squared my shoulders and took a step closer. "I embrace every part of myself. My fears. My weaknesses. My selfishness and I'll use them as fuel."

The shadow hesitated again, confusion crossing its distorted face.

"It's time to integrate," I declared with newfound conviction. "Time to stop running from what makes me whole."

With every ounce of strength left in me, I raised my sword once more and charged forward, not out of fear or anger, but from acceptance and resolve. This was more than just a fight; this was the beginning of understanding who I truly was, and embracing every aspect of myself.

Of course, this was the moment that Senara erupted from the portal I had been fighting next to and I saw the hunger in the gaze of the feral version of myself, hunger that wasn't related to food at all, it was for her magic, her power, her body, her heart, everything that made Senara who she was, my shadow wanted it.