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Like one time when she was maybe nine, she had a nightmare, and the person she was most scared of in her weakest moment, was a kid on her block. Turned out he kept throwing things at her when she walked past. You can’t throw stones if your hands are in casts. Jimmy learnt that the hard way. And I easily got away with it because what fifteen-year-old was going to admit that he was beaten up by a nine-year-old?
Now, though... the sleep walking is new, and it scares me. Her magicae is acting up, and it’s getting harder for Zoe to control it whilst she’s awake, never mind when she’s sleeping.
Today, she’s been struggling with accidental outbursts, and we know it’s because of the giant leap in her magicae after bonding with us all.
This is the first time she’s done it, so Ciar told me we had to leave her to figure out what’s going on with her.
That it could just be tied within the leap, and she deserves the chance to explore it.
Apparently, he thinks that there’s a reason as to why her magicae is acting up in the form of possessing its host whilst she’s unconscious, and he wants to see why. I don’t. I’d love to battle it out with Zoe, to play with her magicae, but not like this.
Not when she’s not aware of it.
Consent is something I value, even if it’s not in a sexual manner.
“Resurgemus,” Zoe chants, her voice louder this time. “Resurgemus.”
“Rise?” I repeat in English, looking at Ciar, confused. He shrugs, his eyes widening as his thick, brown brows lift up and his lips purse together in a grimace of sorts. He’s just as lost as I am about what is happening with ouranima nexum.
I punch his arm, and he glares at me. He doesn’t get to look so fucking lost when this was his shitty idea.
“I think we should wake her up now,” I say. “Isn’t this scaring you?”
“I think we need to see what her magicae is going to do,” Ciar replies quietly. “We watch and make sure she’s safe, but we don’t interfere. I think that’s what Eirik would do.”
Not being funny or anything, but my life ambition isn’t to be Eirik. Like, what the fuck is that argument?I think that’s what Eirik would do.How pathetic.
“Resurgemus!” Zoe yells, cutting off my argument with Ciar.
I immediately cringe when gold light blasts out of her, my eyes flying shut to protect them from potentially burning out. It’s so bright, so powerful, but sosopretty. Myanima nexumis so fucking powerful. This amount of raw energy, raw power, that she possesses is something that people will envy.
This amount of untapped power in an untrained witch, well, I now understand why soul witches are killed off. I don’t agree with it—obviously, considering they’re going to need to go through me and the rest of the group to even get eyes on Zoe, and her magicae is pretty defensive of ours—but I understand it.
Eventually, the blinding light dies down, and I can’t help that my head tilts to the side as I try to wrap my head around what’s going on in front of me.
She can’t be doing what I think she’s doing... right?
I look at Ciar for help, but he shakes his head, equally as gobsmacked. We continue watching, and analysing, and it’s apparent that she is doingexactlywhat I think she’s doing.
Shit.
“She’s raising the dead,” Ciar confirms a moment later, his tone mildly concerned.
I turn back to our girl, wanting to understand. Surrounding her are hundreds of people… dead people, but people all the same. They don’t have physical bodies, but unlike Ciar’s shadow people, they have faces and voices, too. They’re people, just barely floating above the ground. Their eyes are gold, and I know it’s because they’re being fuelled by Zoe’s magicae.
A sleeping Zoe, whose eyes are still closed, and yet she’s wielding more power than I think I even have.
I step forward, to do what, I don’t know, but the ghosts begin to talk. One voice starts it but, over and over, each of them joins in.
“Queen Elzora, how can we help you?”
“Queen Elzora, how can we aid you?”
“Queen Elzora, Queen Elzora, Queen Elzora.”
The ghost people ditched asking her questions, and are now just chanting her name, fuelling her magicae. She’s stood still, her breathing even, and she’s not reacting to the stimuli around her.
Obviously, Ryes, for fuck’s sake, she’s asleep still.
