Page 148 of The Shadowed Oracle
“Ingrid!”
“INGRID!”
Time was catching up. Enitha—the Hydra drew closer to her, and the world around her rapidly gained pace. Those cautious words from her friends, meant to protect her, putting her safety above their own, were now audible.
And so she answered.
“I found it.”
Reaching in those dormant quadrants of her being where her power had been hiding—compartments that were now open, in sight, and within her reach—she would earn back what was taken. All of Ingrid’s anger, and her pain, and her longing, and her joy, and her brief moments of peace, and her sadness and loneliness and everything else in between, it washed away in a torrent as the very essence of her soul began to forge the magic within.
Her body went weightless. Not numb, but transcending the form she’d been stuck in on Earth for those long years. She embodied pure and thoughtless bliss. The only sensation in her entire body was a faint rumble, a small vibration of encouragement, as if all who’d come before her, all who had ever been calledOraclewere there with her. Those ancestors, blood kin or not, brothers and sisters of the sight, they were behind her now. Together.
They offered Ingrid their power, their assurances, their undying love, and a comforting hand on her shoulder. As if saying, “Let it in. Then become it.”
With the words, her father’s necklace began to shine.
The light formed in a circular shield around the ship, becoming so bright that the Hydra’s heads flinched back at thepower inside. It was an all-consuming white at first, then tinted with shades of pink and finally red. The same red she’d been ridiculed for, stared at and hunted for. Her eyes. Herrealeyes. Tears filled them now as she raised her arms and touched the beaming light coming from the viseer stone.
The Hydra couldn’t penetrate it. The power of it was too strong. Her father’s power, she thought, the last thing he'd given her before leaving. Hewaslike her. A hunted wielder of the rarest kind. An Oracle. He must’ve been. She could feel him. She could sense his energy among all those benevolent souls guiding her.Hewas guiding her. Protecting her. Helping her in that last step to unlocking her own magic.
Bracing herself, palms down to Ealis, drawing from the Mother herself, she closed her eyes and filled the voids keeping her from complete control.
A wielder divided internally will never be whole enough to send their power into the external world.
That vague and frustrating excerpt she’d read in Maradenn, it was so clear now. It was the parts of her she’d tried to repress, forget, bury deep inside. That’s what was missing. She needed to acknowledge the past versions of herself, needed to grieve for them and all they’d been through.
And finally, forgive herself.
Forgive herself.
Forgive herself.
She pictured that baby girl born in a world that was not her own. The toddler who’d been moved like stolen property for fear of who might find her, might recognize what she had inside her. That six-year-old girl who’d been left to fend for herself, fighting off monsters and nightmares before she even knew what her own last name was. And that ambitious girl, barely twenty, alone in a new city, looking for anything to numb the pain. Any form of escape. Anything to forget who she was, what she’d beenthrough, what was taken away, and what she’d always had to fight against.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to them—to herself. “It’s all going to be okay. We’re together now.”
And then she unleashed.
Pure thrumming power exploded in every direction.
In seconds, the Shades were gone, hissing and burning and squealing in the light before finally turning to dust. Once her greatest fear, vaporized with just a thought.
Ingrid looked to the Hydra, to Enitha, ready to unleash again, but Enitha snapped down with one of her mighty jaws toward the ship at that very moment. The viseer stone shuddered, bending at the blow. Ingrid recovered, dug into the well of her magic again to strike.
Another stream of magic flowed from her, and with it came another disembodied voice calling out in warning. She needed to rest. Recharge. Not long, only a minute or so. The red energy from the necklace still brimmed with power, buying her time. Keeping her and her friends safe while she regained her strength.
A hand—far more real, and far more familiar rested again on Ingrid’s shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” Dean said. He sighed, then laughed in an exhaustive, deep breath of relief. “You’re doing it, Ingrid! You’re… you’re doing it.” He laughed harder, freer, his voice cracking and raw as he spoke. “What do you need me to do!? Where?—”
“Stay behind me,” Ingrid ordered.
“Yes, ma’am! Anything else!?”
Ingrid kept her hands to the sky, waiting for the power tingling in her fingertips to build. She had a simple plan for when it returned to her, but stumbled when she realized Deanand the others didn’t know what they faced was Enitha, and not just another mindless killing machine.
“When I unleash again, it’ll be vulnerable,” she said, opting for the simple directive instead of the full backstory. “Hopefully, that will give you an open shot at it. Can you manage that?”
