Page 74 of The Curse of Ophelia

If the answer was not something within myself, then it must be something without. Something found in the world…or in others.

I realized there was not only one answer to the riddle. One grace, sure, but it was a result of many lives, something so vast that it took four to show it to me.

The answer came to me like a shooting star across the sky, illuminating everything in its wake and brightening all doubt. When I was a pit of rage, my heart warped and tainted, my friends and sister had pardoned my worst behaviors. They waited for me to return to myself, helped me get there through both patience and pushing. On the journey here alone, they showed endless fortitude and loyalty, and once I had dragged myself from the darkest of pits, they acquitted those worst pieces of me. Those shadows within my heart faded like dust in the wind.

I returned Hectatios’s gloating smile. “Forgiveness. Not forgiveness of myself, but forgiveness from others. That is what cleared my mind and heart so that I may be here today. I would not be here without the forgiveness of my friends and sister.”

The silver-haired Spirit nodded. The approval in his eyes glinted as he lifted his hands and the veil surrounding us dropped. The warmth of the volcano snaked around my shoulders, but I did not mind the heat this time. It bolstered me, riling my blood.

I turned to the two remaining Spirits, heart lifting in anticipation.

Glawandin’s cheerful voice filled the space. “It is my turn.” She swooped upward and spun in a circle, white flecks raining down upon me.

When they touched my body, my sight disappeared. “What’s happening?” I screamed, turning in frantic circles. There was a roaring in my ears. “Bring it back! Bring my sight back!”

“Hush, child,” Glawandin soothed. “Breathe. It will be all right.”

It took me a few deep breaths to steady myself, but the roaring in my ears was eventually replaced by faint crackles of lava and exhales of smoke. I dug through the sounds for any indication of what was to come.

When Glawandin spoke beside me, I jumped. For a blind Spirit, she moved effortlessly through the air. “Thy sight is gone, oh, Chosen Child. But the difficulty shall be mild. To walk through life without the sense requires a skill just as dense. It is neither physical thing nor human being, but imperative instinct riling. You have not had it all the way, but it grows stronger in your bones each day.”

Her voice faded into the darkness, the last sentences echoing around us and drifting up to the volcano’s mouth.

Taking another deep breath, I channeled all of my remaining senses into solving her riddle. I listened to the movement around me—the crackles and snaps and whoosh of the flowing lava. The whisper of the Spirits stirring the air. Pungent ash filled my nostrils, fire heated my skin, and the ground remained solid beneath my feet as I gathered her hints.

Glawandin’s words washed over me like a tidal wave.

Something neither physical nor human. An instinct that I had lacked but was growing within me. I turned my sightless gaze inward, exploring my own subconscious and heart. What had I struggled with?

Without my sight, my introspection felt omniscient, tunneling through my subconscious and seeing my actions and decisions as if from both the inside and the outside. It took me only minutes to discover that hidden instinct that had weakened so drastically in the past two years, a hole opening in my being. But the edges glowed a faint white light, stretching toward each other as I unintentionally nurtured this missing piece of myself, restoring it.

A piece I had recently acknowledged with Cypherion.

A devilish smile spread across my lips.

“It is trust. That is what I lack. I do not trust others. I assume responsibilities all on my own and do not ask for their help. I protect them all without believing they can do it on their own.” Speaking the words brought a swell of warmth to my body, like a beast I had been denying was unleashed. Like warm honey flowed through my veins, comforting me and instilling a confidence I had lacked.

My vision returned with a flash, the space alarmingly bright after the darkness. Glawandin was gleeful, applauding me as she bobbed up and down in the air. “Wonderful, child! Truly wonderful. I warn you not to forget the words you have spoken.”

I promised her I would not and turned to Annellius. The final puzzle standing between me and the next phase of the Undertaking. Success was so close I could taste it—victory sweet as sparkling wine amid the ash and soot.

Annellius met my gaze, and his frame glowed brighter. “This one is different. You will not be guessing something within yourself, but something within me.”

I squared my shoulders at the challenge in his voice. “Understood.” I was an Alabath just as he. I could look inside of myself and find a piece of him to guide me toward the answer.

Annellius raised one hand. The golden band at his wrist sparkled. “My veins danced with this hint of legend. It sparked within me since birth, a blessing and a curse. But I was greedy for the power. It overwhelmed me. It promised me the greatness of the First, but I did not understand its strength, rather tried to abuse it. Now, in my Spirit form, I carry the warning to future generations: beware the promises of greed.”

When he finished, his face drooped as if weighted with remorse, so much pain resting beneath his mask. Annellius’s riddle was not mere introspection. Whatever this warning was, he begged me to heed it.

What Annellius carried within him, whatever that power was, it was dangerous. A blessing and a curse. I looked at my wrist, but I knew that wasn’t the answer. The Spirit was not Cursed in the manner I was.

What fate had befallen this ancestor of mine that was so threatening, he was now condemned to float in the Spirit Volcano and communicate the risk to future warriors? We had a power balance instilled across our continent—the Rapture made up of the leaders of every clan, responsible for ensuring a single person never grew too strong. Yet, here was an Alabath, telling me the very opposite had happened, and it had been his personal downfall.

Whatever this threat may be, I begged it to spare those I cared about.

My eyes washed over his body again, desperate for any hint of his suffering. The subtle golden light that echoed around his floating body pulsed when our twin eyes met. His strong form and perfect features appeared sculpted by an Angel himself.

An Angel…

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