The silence in the basement was a total lie. Even though we were hunkered down, hiding from the world after that mess at the market, the air felt like it was buzzing. Lori and Jasmia had finally passed out, but I couldn't even close my eyes. My skin felt like it was two sizes too small for my body.
I retreated to my room and shoved the lock home. I needed to wash the phantom feeling of blood off my hands, but as I pulled off my shirt, a sharp, digging itch flared between my shoulder blades. It wasn't just an itch—it felt like something was trying to hatch from inside my ribs.
I turned to the mirror, looking over my shoulder.
My breath hitched. Dark, oily veins were spiderwebbing out from my spine, carving a jagged map across my back. They weren't just marks; they were raised, hard, and felt more like cold metal than actual flesh.
I'm not human, the thought hit me with a cold finality. Maybe I never was.
I reached back, my fingertips brushing the ridges. The second I pressed down, a jolt of static shot through my entire nervous system. The room blurred. The basement walls melted into a mess of fractured memories.
I saw her again. The woman with the massive wings and that shimmering chakra on her forehead. She was just a silhouette of blinding light against a dark sea.
"Aile," she whispered. Her voice sounded like a silver bell—beautiful, but haunting. "You've risen well. Seek the truth, child. Find out what you are."
I reached out, desperate to touch the light. I felt a cold touch on my cheek. I forced my eyes open, squinting against a strange glare. She was right there, cradling my face. My vision was hazy, but the glow on her forehead was iridescent, shifting like oil on water.
I reached up with my left hand, just wanting to see if she was real.
"No, no, darling," she said, her voice like silk. "Not yet. It isn't time.
She caught my wrist, lowering my hand with a soft, maternal touch.
"I'll see you again..."
Before she could finish, she was gone. I stood up abruptly and realized I was standing on the surface of a vast, clear ocean under a massive moon. There was no sign of her. When I turned around, a single white door was just standing there in the middle of the water, glowing from the inside. Without thinking, I stepped through.
My eyes snapped open. I was back in my bed, gasping for air. But the nightmare hadn't stopped. I looked down and recoiled—long, black thorns had erupted from my forearms, twitching like they were part of my nerves. With a frantic surge of will, I forced them down. They withered, sinking back into my skin until only faint black lines remained.
It wasn't a dream. It was a summons.
"Aile? You still alive in there?"
Lori's voice and a heavy bang on the door shattered the quiet. I scrambled out of bed and yanked the door open. Lori stumbled back, his face turning a deep red.
"O-oh! Hi. You slept until 10:00 AM. I thought you'd turned into a statue," he said,
scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
"I'm fine," I said, giving him a tired smile.
"Good! Because it's time to get stronger." His eyes lit up. "The world isn't going to wait for us. Meet us in the yard!"
minutes has passed, we stood by the river behind the base. The roar of the water was a constant, heavy thud, and the wind was whipping our hair around. Lori was holding a wooden practice stick, but my hand went straight to the hilt of the black blade I'd had since I was a baby.
"You know," Lori said, his curiosity finally winning out as he stared at the thing. "I've never seen a sword like that. It doesn't look like it was made by any smith I know."
"It has a pulse," Jasmia added quietly, her eyes narrowed.
I pulled it out. The metal was matte-black, totally light-absorbent, and etched with ancient symbols that shimmered. Oath of Beyond's Darkness. Or, as I called it, OBD.
My adoptive parents told me they found me as an infant with this blade lying beside me—like a silent bodyguard. A smith once offered a fortune for it, claiming it was forged from black steel infused with "Black Blood Diamonds." It was a relic of some forgotten age, a weapon meant for a god, not a discarded kid.
I looked at the dark red, hollow pearl set into the guard.
If I'm a disaster, I thought, then this is my lightning rod.
I concentrated, letting the black veins crawl up my arms. I didn't fight the power this time; I gave it a direction. I fed the dark energy into the hilt, my pulse drumming against the leather grip.
The red pearl started to glow, drinking my strength until I felt a wave of dizziness. The blade ignited with a dark, freezing aura—black flames that didn't give off heat, but seemed to eat the light around them.
The sword started to vibrate violently. A sharp clack echoed over the roar of the river.
The blade split right down the center.
I wasn't holding one sword anymore. I had dual blades, light and perfectly balanced, like they were an extension of my own bones. I swung them in a wide arc.
An invisible force erupted from the steel. It didn't just cut; it erased. A row of six ancient trees in the distance was sliced through effortlessly, their trunks sliding apart in perfect, silent symmetry before crashing down.
I looked at my arms. The black veins were gone, the energy completely swallowed by the twin shards in my hands.
"Whoa," Lori breathed, his practice stick slipping from his hand.
I looked at the blades, then at the horizon. The woman in my dreams told me to find the truth. With these in my hands, I felt like I finally had teeth. I could finally bite back at the world that had been trying to eat me alive.