Page 63 of The Freedom You Seek

But I couldn’t help it. Now that I’d seen what his protection could entail, his vow sounded more like a threat.

I woke up with a start, my breath labored. Sitting up and staring at my hands, half expecting them to be stained with blood. Instead, I found only my slightly dirty skin, and the lingering doubt of dream or reality vanished. All that talk of my past, revenge, and morally compromised actions must have gotten to me to trigger such a depraved dream scene.

My breaths slowly calmed down as I concentrated on each rise and fall of my chest, and I watched the remaining embers of our fire before my eyes searched for Dion.

He was sleeping next to me as usual, his face relaxed. He wore a satisfied expression so similar to the one of his dream double, and I recoiled, closed my eyes, and convinced myself that I was only imagining it.

The nightmare still lingered in my mind, and it was only natural I was projecting.

As if he felt my turmoil, Dion stirred and opened his eyes. His voice sounded hoarse and sleepy. “Why are you awake, Naya? You need to sleep.” His eyes already fell shut as he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down into a lying position.

Faster than it should have been possible for a man half asleep, he enveloped me in his arms and held me tight. All attempts to extract myself from his embrace were in vain. There was no escaping him, neither in my dreams nor in reality.

I silently sighed before accepting my fate, as I had in my nightmare, and allowing the warmth radiating from Dion to pull me back into a dreamless sleep.

The next few days were uneventful. I never mentioned my nightmare to Dion, and the more time passed, the easier it was to let go of the unease I felt toward him. After all, it hadn’t been his fault what his nightmare alter ego had done. It would be unfair if I allowed my horrible dreams to influence the view I had of him and just avoided triggering his murderous side even more than usual.

The first lesson in self-defense after the nightmare had been a challenge. Seeing and holding the midnight dagger had cost me some nerves, but I’d shoved everything away from me, hopefully forever. After all, it’d only been a dream.

Sadly, I wasn’t a natural at fighting.

In my most secret fantasies, I would pick up a weapon and surprise everyone with how fast I’d master it. Unfortunately, reality grounded me fast, and I had to begrudgingly admit to myself I wasn’t a prodigy and would never become a master fighter. So I took my hopes and morphed them into more realistic expectations.

Dion would train with me every day, if possible, until I at least could defend myself. Sometimes, I hated reality.

Then there were the other lessons. Alongside Dion’s sensitivity, other problems added to the challenges of training with Thain.

What made it difficult for me was that every time Thain took from my Potential, I felt dizzy and highly uncomfortable, and there had been two other occasions where I’d fainted.

Luckily, the others kept Dion away from magic training and distracted him as much as possible, or he would undoubtedly have gone on a murder spree.

Thain found it easier, at least according to him. He mentioned how sometimes he had to push through ‘something’ to reach my Potential, but in general, he assured me that it wasn’t hard for him to do so.

Antas, who acted as our constant supervisor, was thoughtful and said he’d never heard that the Wielder had to push through ‘something’to reach for Potential. He’d wondered if I actually was able to put up some sort of defense and had pondered about how to find out for sure. But it never felt as if I struggled or resisted.

After all, I needed this to work because only then I could be of use.

In the end, Antas dropped the topic because, sadly, no one had secure knowledge about how using an Amplifier’s Potential was supposed to feel.

So I endured all the discomfort in hopes of fast improvement and stopped talking about my suffering.

A few more days blended together in that manner. We didn’t meet a single soul, and when Thain and Ireas rode out for provision trips twice, no one seemed to notice or recognize them.

One evening after we set up camp, roughly ten days after we’d entered Marsia, Fig beckoned us around the campfire.

Dion stalked after me as usual, and Antas was already sitting on a log, eating some bread with cheese. He’d been absent for the last two days, and to see him unharmed was a relief.

Yes, Dion had told me his uncle had been scouting farther ahead than usual and that my worries were unfounded, but it was good to see him safe and sound.

With a bright smile, I sat down next to Antas on the natural bench, which was large enough for the two of us.

Dion, however, had one of his unpredictable days, and he softly growled as he squeezed in between Antas and me. I squealed and almost toppled off the log, but Dion caughtme, huffed, and pulled me onto his lap without further comment.

Antas glanced over at us with an amused chuckle, but I tensed at Dion’s shenanigans. That he was so close had become familiar to me, but there was more than enough space around the campfire that we could both have our own sitting spot.

We’d shared a horse for weeks, and I’d given up trying to maintain a certain physical distance from him on horseback because it was simply impossible.

I didn’t even blush anymore whenhehardened against me, which was an irregular occurrence. I was educated enough to know that this was a biological reaction happening to men beyond their control. It meant nothing, and I definitely hadn’t been affected by it apart from the one time I’d been napping and had woken up with a nasty flashback to that fateful encounter in Credenta’s stable.