Page 125 of Florescentia

It broke his heart to see her like that, to hold her and not be able to take the pain away. I knew because I felt it in my own chest; everything he felt, I did too. The absolute helplessness when you’ve done all you can, yet you still cannot spare your loved one from pain. The screams from my mother were hard enough to listen to, but knowing he’d caused them was worse for him. It was like being crushed slowly by a pile of stones, building the weight one by one before the rib cage gives way and succumbs.

But he knew it meant they were getting out of there alive.

He hadn’t traded me for unearned love.

He’d traded me for their survival.

Even if he’d made it out, he wasn’t going to live without her.

I choked, water forcing its way into my mouth and down my throat. The vision faded, and I clawed my way to the surface. I reached the shore as soon as I breached. My nails dug into the mud, pulling up the mire flowers as I fought for land. Water spewed from my mouth and nose, coughing fits overtaking any effort to breathe again.

Then with my first breath, I collapsed and rolled onto my back.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Nova

I was stuck.

This much was obvious to me by now, but I had more than one problem to contend with.

I’d dedicated many sleepless hours to the grimoire, hoping some miracle moment of enlightenment would get me home and undo the chaos of recent times.

Each breath felt like a labor, my heart pumping tirelessly as sleep called to me, but I couldn’t make myself do so.

The pages of the book were blank. I flipped through them anyway.

I paced the grass, as if the book were some sort of compass. That sinking feeling that came with shooting in the ignorant dark pestered me. It was a different type of helpless feeling, one that involved wasted effort.

A faint ting of a bell stopped me in my tracks.

I half thought it was a hallucination. Before I took another step, there it was again.

There was not another soul in sight.

Ting!

There was the noise again.

Then it was accompanied by more. Footsteps and bells, then mumbles and rustling.

I tucked the book back in my satchel, slinging it over my shoulder for safekeeping in the event this was another hungry shadow.

From just before the tree line, movement.

There was a faint glow of white linen, a human form.

The gait was familiar, as was the clothing.

“Father?” I called out. The words echoed, and the figure stepped farther down the path, wandering aimlessly.

I trekked down the path after him but stopped just before the forest opening. The branches crossed above, rubbing against each other, quivering as if anticipating my venture. The last time had been a trick. What was to say this wasn’t as well? Yet again, this place wasn’t entirely influenced by my monster; it bent to my will too. It spoke to me of other things than my beast.

With that assurance in mind, I cast ahead.

The forest became darker, if at all possible.

In a world of endless night, I picked up on the small flickers of life. The flora faded in light; only the grass and foliage I disturbed lit my path in my own footsteps. My markings were set aglow, but it was as if my surroundings completely melted away as they did so.