Page 80 of The Awakening of Essensia

She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to see her brother like that ever again, but if this was truly the only way to get stronger, she had no choice.

Crossing to the centre of the room, she sat cross-legged, closing her eyes and drawing a long, deep breath. She released it, the air hissing through her teeth. Another inhale, and she reached for that dark cavity within her, finding it flickering dimly. She cradled the flame there, watching it sway in her mind's eye. Her body eased, images coming unbidden.

The chamber beneath the mountain vanished. She was in Anhaven, walking along the path to her cottage.

Not yours anymore.

Dry lightning flashed soundlessly through a pitch night sky.

Then she was inside. Jon was on the sofa, staring into a pale blue fire.

He turned.

No, no, no. She didn’t want to see this.

The gash in his throat leaked black gore down his shirt. His face twisted, his lips parting to reveal black stained teeth.

Vaelira’s breaths came quick and shallow.

Look away, look away.

Galfri’s voice came to her, muffled as if coming from outside the cottage. Do not turn away, Vaelira.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered. She turned to the cottage door, only to find a different man standing there. Short, dark hair, deep brown eyes, stubble lining his strong chin and jaw. He smiled at her, lines crinkling around his mouth and eyes.

Father.

“Do not leave him like this, Vaelira.” he said. “He deserves better. You deserve better.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest.

He isn’t real. Just a memory.

Change the memory, Vaelira.

She drew a breath and let it go, fixing her eyes on her brother.

Her hands trembled and she drew another breath, forcing herself to look at the crooked mouth, the menacing stare.

Something cool rolled down her cheek.

Inhale. Exhale. The image wavered.

Inhale. Another flicker.

Exhale. His smile softened and the fire turned golden. The wound at his neck began to close.

Inhale. Exhale. This is how she would remember him, whole and full of life. She would make this choice. She would choose to remember the happiness, not the horror.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The flame in her chest surged, engulfing her hand. Fire raced up her arms, down her body, climbing her neck.

Light blinded her.

She was an inferno. Fire made flesh. Bright, relentless and all-consuming.