Page 11 of Riftborne
I followed Ma to the back.
I sat down at my station, craving the familiarity. Hoping to feel the calmness wash over me as it usually did when I gathered my tools and felt the rugged texture of my desk. But it never came.
I had decided to believe Osta, to accept that the events of last night were just some fucked up hallucination, but even as I repeated it to myself over and over again, I couldn’t make it feel real. Sure, it made the most sense. Something deep inside me was still screaming that I was a murderer. That I was a Monster.
I glanced up at Ma as she gathered a few vials from the back shelves. My heart felt like it might explode. If she found out how dark my inner world had gotten… I didn’t let my mind go there
I managed to keep myself occupied enough, but the looming sense of the unknown continued to spiral. It was impossible to fully escape the questions that hung heavy.
I was surprised to find that, despite the crippling anxiety that radiated through me, I also felt an odd sense of peace. This was the first time in weeks—maybe months—that I didn’t feel like I had tokeep a constant grip on the cursed monstrosity that lived beneath my skin. I could feel it… it was certainly there, but it wasn’t clawing at me. Wasn’t itching for release.
Perhaps it had had its fill the night before. The beast was satiated for now.
That thought nearly sent me retching.
Ma kept her eyes on me most of the day, watching intently as I tried to lose myself in work
I was well aware of what was to come. Ma's concern always simmered in silence, growing until she couldn’t hold it back anymore. This day wasn’t going to end without a conversation. And I was dreading it.
Esprithe be damned.
After tryingand failingmultiple times to light the coals under our cauldron burners. My fire starter had finally run out of oil after struggling with it all day, and I couldn’t find any matches laying around.
I groaned. After managing to successfully dodge Ma's questioning eyes, now it seemed my only option was asking her for help.
Sighing, I stood and peered in her direction to find her staring right at me as she expertly wrapped herbal poultices. The woman was relentless.
“Care to ask me something, Fia?” she shot my direction, her mouth creeping into a grin. I took a few steps toward her.
“It depends. Does requesting your help come with a price? Or would you do it out of the kindness of your heart?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh Fia. Everything has a price, you know that,” she said, winking at me. “Did you run out of oil for your burner?” Her grinturned oddly suspicious, her hands still busy at work with the poultices.
My eyes widened.
“Ma, I know you did not orchestrate this so that I would have to come talk to you,” I said, my tone curt.
“I would never do such a thing.” She clutched her chest dramatically. “But it is unfortunate, we seem to be out of both oil and matches. I’ll place an order for more, but they’ll take a few days to arrive, I’m afraid.”
I narrowed my eyes, but my lips betrayed me by twisting up at the corners.
Truly. Fucking. Relentless.
“Seeing that we’re out of both of those immensely important items, I guess I have no choice but to request your aid in lighting the coals for the cauldrons.” My voice was slick.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She laid the poultices down and shuffled over to my station.
Kneeling low, she pressed her hand against the coals. After a few seconds, smoke billowed. Sparks flew up from the pit, and the coals began to glow a brilliant red.
“That will never get old,” I said, trudging over to her.
“Well, it is my best party trick.” She smiled, and I helped her up from the floor.
“It’s far more than a party trick, Ma.” My eyes lingered on her before I turned, the guilt now creeping back in. I began filling the cauldron with water.
Ma's focus had manifested when she was younger, as was the case for most Aossí. She had set fire to a haystack while playing as a child, causing an entire slaughterhouse to burn to the ground. Although an accident, Ma loved to attribute it to her innate sense of justice—even at that young an age, she’d recall, pride flickering in her eyes.
We noticed the signs of Osta channeling fairly early. She wastwelve and I was fourteen, and we had already been at the House of Unity for eleven years.
