Page 184 of Stormvein
My gaze fixes on the crystal in Sereven’s hand.
What if that thing isn’t just a weapon, but a reservoir? What did the woman in my dream say about it?
“The crystal responds to intent, to blood, to the power it was designed to channel. It can tear apart … or it can bind together.”Her words whisper through my mind.
“The Authority has never been against power in and of itself, merely those who wielded it without proper guidance and control.” Sereven lifts the crystal, blue light dancing across his features in a grotesque parody of shadow play. “This doesn’tdestroyVeinblood abilities, it harvests them. It contains them. It makes them available for more … appropriate application.”
“By you?” My voice is flat, though rage burns like acid beneath the surface. Everything we suffered, all the lives we’ve lost, hasn’t been to destroy magic, but to steal it.
“By those properly trained to serve order rather than chaos.” The words carry the familiar echo of old arguments. “You never did understand the necessity of structure. Your shadows always sought the darkness, even when we were?—”
He stops himself, shaking his head, and takes another sip from his goblet. “But even the crystal has limitations. The power it contains must eventually be transferred, or it becomes volatile … unstable.”
His gaze returns to Ellie, who stands frozen, eyes wide in a pale face, as she takes in every word he says.
“You see, we discovered after many experiments that non-Veinblood children make perfect temporary holding vessels. They’re open, receptive, and uninformed. Unburdened by preconceptions, if you will.” He speaks as if discussing crop rotation or weather patterns, not the systematic exploitation of innocents.
“We found that the power would enter them, and then dissipate harmlessly. Unfortunately, it came with their death, but such is the price we have to pay.” His voice softens slightly, taking on that reverent quality again. The voice of a man discussing his masterpiece.
My stomach turns.Experiments. How many children suffered before they perfected their method?How many died?
“Butyou, Elowen … you were different.”
He steps closer to her, and I tense, ready to move between them. Ellie doesn’t retreat. She stands her ground, chin lifting slightly despite the horror etched across her face.
“You didn’t just receive and channel the power, youbondedwith it. You became something more than we could have ever anticipated.” There’s something unsettling in his gaze. Pride mixed with possessiveness. “The first successful permanent living vessel. A breakthrough that changed everything we thought possible.”
“I was a prisoner. You were moving me to Blackvault for purging.” Her fingers clench and unclench at her sides, silver sparking between them. Frost forms in small patterns on the floor beneath her boots.
“You were never a prisoner.” Sereven dismisses her claim with a wave of his hand. “You were the future of the Authority itself. Our greatest achievement.” His voice warms with disturbing pride. “A vessel being trained to help establish a world of order rather than the chaos these last remnants of the old world beliefs would unleash. One who could take remaining Veinblood powers and use them for the Authority’s will.”
His expression hardens. “Until the Veinblood masters stole you away and sent you beyond my reach.”
Ellie’s breathing turns shallow. “They didn’t steal me,” she whispers. “Theysavedme.”
The pieces click together in my mind with terrible clarity, a puzzle whose solution only reveals more horror.
“You didn’t hunt her because you feared her power. You hunted her because you believed she belonged to the Authority.”
“I hunted her because she belongs tome!” The crystal flares between his fingers. “Because the power within her was meant to serve order, not become a weapon against it.”
The first genuine emotion breaks through his careful facade. Possessiveness …hunger. It isn’t just for the power itself, but for her. The way his eyes track her movements, the proprietary tone when he says her name. It’s the look of a craftsman whose masterpiece was stolen before completion.
She is the embodiment of something far more personal to him. A pet project, a creation, a possession stolen away from him. For twenty-four years, he’s been searching for her. Not simply because of what she can do, but because he sees her ashis.
I take a half-step closer to her. The idea of Sereven looking at her that way, thinking of her as property, makes my shadows writhe with barely controlled rage.
“I’mnota weapon.” Her voice is stronger now despite the tremor in her hands, and the silver tracing paths through her veins like constellations. “I’m not a vessel. An object. I’m a living, breathingperson.” The words carry all the certainty she’s fought to claim since arriving in Meridian.
“You are both, and neither.” Sereven’s voice drops to something almost like reverence, like a priest before an altar. “You are something entirely new. Power given form. Energy made flesh.” He takes a step toward her, hand half-raised as if to touch her face.
The silver in Ellie’s eyes flares. “Don’t.”
“The masters who took you knew what you would become. Why do you think they gave their lives to steal you away? They recognized what we had created. WhatIhad created.”
I move forward a step, shadows sliding over my skin in sinuous patterns. The movement is deliberate, calculated todraw Sereven’s attention back to me, away from Ellie. Away from the dangerous fascination in his eyes when he looks at her.
“But then dreams spread like wildfire across Meridian.” His lips twist into something between a grimace and a smile. “Prophecies about the Shadowvein Lord returning, and Veinblood power returning to the land.” His hands tighten around the crystal. “I spent twenty-four years doing everything I could to ensure that prophecy would never be fulfilled, through purges, hunts, and executions of all dream-speakers.”
