Page 22 of Soul Bound (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #2)

22

MATILDA

The fire roars past my head, missing me by inches as I dive and roll. My hands hit the damp earth of the forest floor, and I feel the elements surge through me. Earth wanting to rise as a shield, water begging to douse the flames, air whispering promises of escape.

But I can’t control them. Not all at once. Not like this.

“Anchor yourself,” Morrigan’s voice cracks like a whip. “You’re fighting it again. Let it flow!”

Easy for her to say. She’s not the one with all the different types of magick trying to tear her apart from the inside.

I push to my feet, gathering my power. The Praxian magick thrums through my blood, ancient and wild. Each element is a different song, a different pull. Together, they’re a symphony I can’t quite conduct.

“Again,” Morrigan commands.

I reach for the fire this time, trying to mirror her attack. The flames come eagerly. Too eagerly. They mix with air, creating a tornado of heat that spins out of control. Earth responds instinctively, trying to contain it, while water rises to protect me.

The result is chaos.

Steam explodes outward as water meets fire. The ground buckles beneath my feet as earth magick clashes with air. I’m at the centre of a maelstrom of elemental forces, each one fighting for dominance.

“Stop fighting them against each other!” Morrigan shouts over the chaos. “They’re not separate forces. They’re aspects of the same power! Your power. This is all yours, Matilda. You are the only one!”

“I’m trying!” I grit out, but it’s like trying to hold a herd of wild horses with a single thread. One pulls east, another west, each wanting its own way.

The pressure builds. Something has to give.

It’s me.

The power explodes outward in a wave that knocks me off my feet. I hit the ground hard, ears ringing, as this wild magick dissipates into the misty morning air.

Morrigan’s boots appear in my field of vision. “You’re thinking like a modern mage,” she says, offering me a hand up. “Trying to categorise and separate. Forget everything you think you know and listen to me.”

“I am listening, but it’s difficult. I’m untrained, so I don’t actually know anything.”

“Then it should be easier for you to accept what I’m telling you. Now. We do this again. This time, don’t try to control it. Listen to it. Feel how it wants to move.”

I take my stance, trying to ignore the trembling in my limbs. The power is still there, humming under my skin, eager for release. Too eager.

Like it knows something I don’t.

The book’s warnings echo in my mind: The pattern becomes complete. The stars align.

I’m not cut out for this. I’m just not capable.

Morrigan raises her hands, and I see fire gathering in her palms. “Ready?”

I feel the magick rise, answering the challenge. Each thread is distinct yet part of a greater whole. Like the tunnels beneath our feet, like the ley lines that cross and weave... the pattern.

Understanding hits me just as Morrigan releases her attack. This time, I don’t try to separate one element over another. I let them flow together, like streams joining a river.

Fire rises to meet fire. Earth and air swirl around me in a double helix. Water flows through it all, connecting, conducting, and completing the circuit.

For one brilliant moment, I feel the sheer enormity of this power, the raw beauty in it.

But the terror that crashes into me when I sense how utterly god-like this magick is knocks me off my feet again, and lightning fizzles around me.

Morrigan is at my side as soon as I hit the ground, her hands steady on my solar plexus. “Breathe, Matilda. Just breathe.”

“Did you see that?” My voice shakes. “Did you feel?—”

“I saw.” Her eyes are intense, searching my face. “For a moment there, you had it. Perfect control. Then you let fear take over.”

“Because it’s too much!” I push away from her, stumbling to my feet. “This isn’t normal magick, Morrigan. It’s not just about elements or power. It’s...” I struggle to find the words. “It’s like being connected to everything. All at once. It’s a deity all on its own. You know all about that, don’t you?”

“And that terrifies you.”

“Shouldn’t it?” Rainbow lightning still crackles around my fingers, responding to my agitation. “No offence to the old gods or any new ones, but no one should have this kind of power.”

“Precisely,” she says, smacking her fist into her palm and making me jump. “Now you are getting it. No one was meant to have this power. That is why the ancient Druids split it up and cursed the latent energy into the ground.”

I sink down onto a fallen log, suddenly exhausted. “I can’t do this.”

Morrigan sits beside me, her presence oddly comforting. “Tell me what you felt, just before the fear took over. What was it really like?”

I close my eyes, trying to capture that moment of perfect clarity. “It was beautiful. Like being part of everything at once. All of it is connected. All of it is singing together.”

“And in that moment, were you afraid?”

“No,” I whisper. “It felt right. Natural. Like coming home.”

“That’s your truth, Matilda. Not the fear. The fear comes from thinking like a modern witch and from trying to put boundaries and limits on something that was never meant to be contained. The orders don’t apply here. There is no Supernatural Council around to tell you what you can and cannot do. The Praxian doesn’t listen to anyone, but its master, and right now, you are giving it conflicting orders.”

A twig snaps in the forest behind us, and I turn to see a deer watching us with liquid eyes. Without thinking, I reach out with my power, feeling its life force, its connection to the earth and air. To my surprise, it doesn’t run. Instead, it takes a step closer.

“You see?” Morrigan’s voice is gentle. “When you stop fighting it, when you trust yourself...”

The deer comes closer still, drawn by something I can barely understand. I feel the web of life around us. Every tree, every blade of grass, every creature large and small. The power flows through all of it, and through me.

“I still don’t know if I’m ready for whatever’s coming,” I admit.

“No one ever is.” Morrigan stands, brushing off her sexy black leather pants that make me want some. “But you’re stronger than you know. You were born for this, Matilda. You are the one this magick has been waiting for.”

“That’s what scares me the most, I think. That it was waiting all these millennia for me. I don’t want to let it down.”

“Ah, I see. We are getting somewhere now. You have a fear of failure or not being seen as worthy enough.”

“If you had lived my life, you would know that is a very real fear.”

“I may not have lived your life, Matilda, but I know the pressure of needing to live up to a role that you didn’t choose, that you were merely born into, and everything else be damned, especially when everyone around you was telling you how useless you were.”

I look at her and blink back the tears. “You too? Someone dared to call the goddess of war, fate and death useless?”

“I wasn’t always the goddess. I was once just a daughter to cruel parents. They found out the hard way to never call me useless.”

My eyes widen as I take in her fierce expression. “You are badass.”

She giggles, her face softening. “Thanks. But so are you, Matilda. The power doesn’t define you, but it sure as hell helps. Get to your feet and try again.”

I groan but do as she says, my muscles protesting. The deer disappears back into the misty forest, but I can still feel its presence, along with everything else. The web of life pulses around me like a second heartbeat.

“This time,” Morrigan says, taking her stance, “don’t think about controlling or channelling. Think about dancing.”

“Dancing?” I raise an eyebrow.

“The elements want to move. They want to flow. So move with them.” Fire blooms in her palms again. “Show me what you’ve got.”

This time, when she attacks, I don’t try to defend or counter. Instead, I let my body move the way it wants to, the way the power wants it to. A spin here, a step there. Fire sweeps past me like a partner in a dangerous waltz.

The earth rises to meet my feet, supporting each movement. Air swirls around me, lifting my hair, carrying the scent of ozone and possibility. Water flows through my gestures like liquid grace. It’s like combat training and the fight with the skellies. It comes naturally to me, and I guess I see why now. I wasn’t thinking. I was just doing.

The magick responds, weaving together in patterns I couldn’t have planned if I tried.

“Yes!” Morrigan calls out. “Now you’re getting it!”

The power builds again, but this time, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels joyful. It’s like finally remembering the steps to a dance you’ve known all your life.

Rainbow lightning arcs between my fingers, but it doesn’t frighten me now. It’s just another part of the pattern, another note in the song.

Morrigan launches another attack, which is more complex this time. I meet it with a laugh, letting the elements guide my movements. We’re both dancing now, power flowing between us in a dazzling display.

“This is what you were born for,” she says again as we move through the steps of this ancient dance. “Not to control or contain, but to set it free.”

For the first time since discovering what I am, I accept it. I’m the soul of a twenty-one-year-old witch in the body of an ancient Druid with power running through my veins that would make most people’s heads spin. This isn’t about me, Matilda, the witch with wonky magick. This is about me, Matilda, the Druid, who has access to a power that can destroy worlds as easily as create them.

It comes with a blinding clarity. I know what I have to do. It’s all very clear to me now.

I lose focus with my epiphany, and Morrigan’s magickal attack slams into my chest, and I hit the ground hard, panting and smoking slightly. But it doesn’t matter.

I’ve got this.