Page 93 of A Rising Hope

“Oh, our dear, sweet dear girl, that is the least we could do for you,” Railin squeezed my hand.

“For the girl that lost everything and yet survived.”

“For the girl that gave hope even in the moment of deepest grief.”

“For our daughter, we’d bargain it all over again,” Diamara said, and I knew that she truly meant it.

57

FINNLEAH

Time 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 tothe 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.”

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