Page 78 of The Curse of Ophelia

The images wove together. Threads merging to form my life, and I smiled at it, starting to recognize them for the whole.

But before I truly understood what they were forming, each delicate strand was severed, breaking them back into their individual memories. I felt the tear like a knife in my heart, like I was being shredded. They belonged together. All of those images, all of the memories that comprised my life—they formed one existence.

At the physical pain of them breaking, a scream wrenched itself up my throat. It felt as though a Spirit hand had punched through my chest cavity and ripped out my very heart.

In its wake, I was empty.

Make anew, a voice whispered inside my head. We will restore.

“Restore…” I muttered, my voice fading into the flames.

A cleansing. That’s what the Spirit Fire was. My spirit…my soul…my being were all being cleansed, each memory ripped out of me. The fire was assessing what I consisted of, what my essence was built of, and deciding if it was the right composition. Ghostly hands crept through my body, searching my blood. Their presence ached.

The webbing on my wrist throbbed at its core, thrashing about in the dark epicenter of the pain. It burrowed deeper into me. I screamed out as I had longed to these past weeks each time I had to hide the affliction.

Then, that too felt like it was being drawn out of me. Just as the memories were. It was agony as that creature—that living Curse—was leached from my blood. It clung on, wrapping itself around my veins, and I didn’t know who was going to win. Each individual strand of the web tore at me, like if it must leave, it wanted to extract my nerves from my body. The pain was so vast, I couldn’t see the Curse losing.

With each memory expelled and examined, I felt closer to death. They were taking pieces of me, and I didn’t know who or what I was without them. End it. End it now. End it quickly. I thought again as the green eyes reappeared in front of me.

Only this time, their meaning was lost to me.

End it.

Please.

End it.

I was at the end of my tolerance. There was no more room for hurt in my emotionally wrung-out body. I had suffered so much, felt burned up, and this was the final battle. The one that wouldn’t only sever these memories from my consciousness, but sever my life from this earth. And I would be okay with that if it happened quickly.

But something flashed.

A memory clicked into place. A pair of comforting arms wrapped around me under a moonlit night, tears falling freely from my eyes.

Another joined it. A darkened, wrinkled hand upon my shoulder and the knowing smile that accompanied it.

Blue eyes and tawny eyes, and a sleek, black ponytail.

The Spirit Fire was no longer pulling apart my memories, it was restoring them. The ones that formed my life as a woman of the Mystique Warriors. It gifted them back to me after their search of my heart and mind, finding the truth that lay within.

With each piece restored, I felt less like fabric with frayed edges. I was becoming whole. Each image made me stronger than before—stronger than I ever had been in my life. Because I needed those memories, the people in them, and the lessons learned, to be who I was meant to be.

I flexed my muscles, testing the theory, and with the slight motion, the blue fire around me pulsed. It no longer severed parts of my mind. I controlled it now.

As I watched, the flames healed my wounds, but I kept the scars on my side and forearm. White streaks against tan skin to serve as reminders.

I spun in circles, relishing the newfound strength. This was it. This was what I had waited for my entire life. The flames had healed my broken pieces, cleansed my tainted soul, and deemed me worthy of being a Mystique Warrior.

A bolt of flame wrapped around me and rushed me toward the surface. Tears threatened to fall.

In seconds I would emerge into the flame pool outside of the Mystique Temple. There would be questions to face, probably anger, but I did not care. Nothing could tarnish this moment.

The surface was closer now, a thin layer of blue flame keeping me from claiming that future. I closed my eyes, relishing in the fact that I’d done it. When everyone told me to give up, I’d fought against fate and won. With pride burning a hole in my heart and tears now coursing down my cheeks, I shot through the surface with a triumphant scream.

I’d expected a field of billowing grass set atop the mountains, surrounding the temple and the flame pool. Instead, I tumbled across cool, hard ground. The rocks cutting into my exposed flesh felt wrong.

When I opened my eyes, my heartbeat quickened. I slowly pushed myself to my feet, taking stock of the weapons strapped to my back and belt. I turned in a stunned circle, absorbing the rock walls, scent of ash, and orange glow in the distance.

I was not standing atop the Mystique Mountains with a clear, starry sky above and warriors surrounding me. There was no midnight breeze against my cheeks or soft grass and wildflowers around my knees.

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