Page 112 of The Ninth Element

I’m drowning. Overwhelmed. The day’s relentless barrage of events is all too much. My spirit, battered and bruised, finally breaks.

“I need to rest,” I whisper weakly. “I shall take my leave.”

“You do need rest,” Lirael says. “But I brought you here to tell you the whole truth. The final trial will come soon, and I want you to make the best decision for yourself, Arien. For that, you need to know the truth more than you need to rest.”

I look up at her with a weary, distrustful gaze. Is she just weaving another web of lies, like Zanyar, Darian, Faelas, and Bahador?

“We have a theory,” Lirael says. “A speculation as to whyI, alone, after all these years, have been able to wield the fragment’s power.”

She walks until she is directly in front of me, and I rise instinctively, my body reacting to the unspoken command in her posture. Her hand slowly raises, and my gaze is drawn to the movement as she places her palm against her chest, directly over her heart.

A soft, golden light begins to emanate from within her, seeming to pulse with a life of its own. It bathes her features in an ethereal glow, making her appear almost divine. As she lowers her hand, the light fades, but the air remains subtly warmer, charged with a lingering heat. Her palm opens, and I gasp.

There, resting on her skin, is a small piece of rock. It is as if she simply reached into her own heart and plucked it out. The shock of the past hour, the emotional devastation, it all fades momentarily, replaced by a stunned disbelief.

The object itself is underwhelming. A simple gray stone shaped like a perfect four-winged diamond. This ordinary, unassuming piece of rock is the legendary fragment? The object of centuries of searching and Martysh’s very existence? It appears to be any ordinary rock, not one that supposedly holds the power to bend life itself.

My gaze flickers between the fragment and Lirael’s eyes, searching for some explanation. Instead, she offers her open palm as a silent invitation.

“Take it.” Her voice is a soft command.

I flinch back, my gaze shooting up to hers in surprise. “What? Why?”

“I told you. We have a theory,” she repeats. “And I need to test it.”

“What theory?” I demand, my voice trembling slightly despite my efforts to control it.

“Touch the fragment, Arien. And we will both know the answer.” Her voice is patient but firm.

Uncertainty wars with an overwhelming curiosity. How many people in the history of the world have been offered the opportunity to touch an object that can command the life element? The thought is irresistible.

I extend my hand until it is hovering slightly above the fragment. Even from this distance, I can feel the gentle heat radiating upward. It feelsstrangely alive. Lirael’s encouraging gaze urges me forward, and I close the gap.

As soon as my fingers close around the rough surface of the rock, a wave of heat explodes through me, racing from my hand, up my arm, flooding my chest, and engulfing my entire being. It’s like touching the sun itself.

Power, raw and untamed, sings through my veins. A gasp escapes me, a sound of pure, stunned wonder, and I stumble back a step as Lirael’s face breaks into a look of absolute triumph.

The warmth intensifies with an almost searing fervor, sinking deep beyond my flesh and settling into my bones. It’s an intoxicating heat, a molten core igniting within me, spreading like wildfire through every vein, every nerve ending.

Instinctively, my hand clenches around the stone, drawing it tighter against my chest. There’s a strange yielding, a subtle give, and with a gentle, almost surreal pressure, it doesn’t just rest against me; itsinks, phasing painlessly, beneath my skin as if merging with my own essence, becoming a part of me I never knew was missing.

Instantly, I feel…complete.

It’s as if all the fractured pieces of my past, all the gnawing emptiness, and silent aches, are not just mended but remade, forged anew into something powerful and unbreakable.

A wave of pure power, utterly unlike anything conceivable in mortal experience, crashes over and through me. It’s erupting in my core, an intoxicating force beyond any earthly measure, exhilarating and terrifying in its boundless scope.

I feel invincible, as though the very concept of weakness is a distant, irrelevant memory. I can feel the subtle pulse of the earth beneath me, the whisper of distant soldiers, the silent thoughts of lesser creatures.

Iknow, with a certainty that resonates in the newly forged core of my being, that I can bend the world to my will. If I desire the stars to fall, they will listen. If I wish mountains to crumble, the earth will obey. The possibilities stretch before me, limitless and dazzling, an endless horizon of untamed potential.

A primal and utterly consuming hunger to wield this newfound power grips me, coiling in my gut like a serpent awakened. It’s more than a desire; it’s a need, an exhilarating craving to unleash it, to feel its raw current flow through me and reshape the world in my image, just to witness the spectacle of what I can become.

Images flash through my mind like lightning strikes: I see myself standing before legions, their wills entirely my own, their eyes reflecting only my glory. I feel the very fabric of life, pliant and yielding, ready to be rewoven to my grand design, new forms emerging at my command.

A sneer twists my lips. No one willeverunderestimate me again. No one will dare to deceive or betray me again. I can return to Myrielfort and confront the man who had so cruelly abandoned me. With this power, I can storm his castle, defeat his guards, and revel in the chaos as he and his pathetic, simpering family watch their world, their legacy, their everything, turn to ash and ruin at my feet…

“Arien.”

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