Page 76 of Stormvein
The mist stalker makes a soft sound, drawing my attention. I seize on its presence like a drowning man reaching for shore. It’s something I can address, something I can help with. Something that might turn her attention away from the darkness.
“Has this been with you since River Crossing?”
Confusion fills her eyes, and she glances toward the creature sitting beside her, then nods.
“All the time?”
Another nod.
“You haven’t called it back to yourself at all?” I watch how the silver light fluctuates beneath her skin whenever the creature moves, studying the patterns with exaggerated attention. Here issomething I can teach her about instead of suffocating us both in more memories of blood and betrayal. “It’s keeping you from staying in control of the power growing inside you.”
She glances at it again, then back at me, curiosity gradually replacing the horror in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
The tension in my body eases as I focus on this problem. This is knowledge I can share that might protect her, rather than frighten her.
“A familiar isn’t meant to remain physically outside of your body indefinitely. It’s an extension of your power, not a separate entity. When it stays manifested constantly, it draws continuously from your reserves.”
I raise my hand again, calling forth my own familiar. The shadows respond instantly, forming into the raven that’s been with me since childhood. Its wings spread as it solidifies above my palm.
“Mine appeared when I was seven,” I offer, surprising myself with this unprompted sharing. “I’d slipped away and got myself lost in the markets of Ashenvale. The raven appeared and showed me the way home.”
The mist stalker turns toward my raven, recognizing its counterpart. Some kind of acknowledgement passes between them.
“Familiars take physical form when needed, then return once their task is complete.” I demonstrate, letting the raven dissolve back into shadow that flows seamlessly into my hand. “Yours should do the same.”
“I don’t know how. I didn’t even create it on purpose, it appeared when your raven touched me.”
“When my familiar found you, it transferred some of my shadows into you. The storm energy you have merged with those shadows, and it seems to have helped create your familiar.” I study the creature, which looks at me in turn. “It’s primarilyan extension of your power, but carries elements of shadow as well.”
“Can I learn to do what you do? Call it back to me?” Interest slowly replaces her anger and upset over today’s events.
“Close your eyes.”
She stiffens, and there it is. The fear I’ve been waiting to appear since she watched me slaughter those soldiers. Since she realized that the man who emerged from that healing is not the same one she knew before. But what she doesn’t realize is that it wasn’t the healing that changed me, it was the torture. What she caused simply gave me the second chance that was slipping out of my grasp.
“Why?” She takes a half-step back. Her hand twitches at her side, that silver light betraying her unease. The mist stalker shifts between us, sensing her tension.
Her reaction shouldn’t bother me. It’s rational, prudent even, after what she witnessed today. She’d be a fool to trust me blindly after everything she’s seen. And yet, her withdrawal sends an unexpected surge of disappointment through me. An ache forms somewhere beneath my ribs. I’ve grown accustomed to her being the one person who doesn’t fear me.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mel’shira.” The words emerge soft, lacking my usual edge. “After everything we’ve been through, do you truly believe I would? I’m going to help you with your familiar, but I need you to focus without visual distractions.”
She hesitates, and the mist stalker steps closer to her. I can see the internal debate playing across her face, trust what we’ve shared before against the evidence of what she thinks I’ve become.
“The familiar formed from your need for protection. Now it’s become a habit, a constant drain rather than an asset.”
“I’m not doing anything to keep it here.”
“Not consciously, but power responds to need and intention, even unconscious ones. So, close your eyes.”
She gives me one last look, then lowers her lashes. I move closer.
“The mist stalker is tethered to you by threads of power, visible if you know how to look for them. Look inside. Can you feel it?”
She frowns, then shakes her head. “I can’t do it.”
“Open your eyes, and watch.” I call forth my raven again, letting it materialize fully, before recalling it. “Your familiar should flow back into you when not needed, become one with your power rather than a constant drain.”
“How?”
