Page 96 of The Awakening of Essensia

“Why waste power on a child?” Erryn murmured.

“Practice?” Axel guessed.

Willem shook his head. “For what? They were probably using her for the convenience. Who would suspect a child of being involved in something like this?”

“And the veins?”

“Throw up a hood, only go out at night. It’d be easy for her to pass by unnoticed.”

Vaelira’s felt sick at their words. Another innocent, manipulated, killed, all to serve the summoner's purpose.

Why hadn’t the demon tried to kill her, like the one in Anhaven had tried to? It made no sense, and the question knotted in her gut, left unanswered.

“You brought her peace,” Elijah said, capturing her gaze. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You were perfect.”

The words were like a golden dagger to her gut. She said nothing. The scent of scorched flesh still clung to her clothes, the image of the ribbon still burned in her mind.

She wasn’t perfect. She’d killed a child and let the rage use her like a weapon.

Elijah kept staring, as if trying to figure out what else she might be capable of.

22

Praen

Vaelira sat on the floor of the old mage chamber, eyes closed and focused on her breath. Each time she thought she’d settled into stillness, burning hair flashed through her mind, the scent close on its heels. It was thick at the back of her throat, dry, acrid, and impossible to swallow.

She let herself fall back against the frigid stone. Hands resting lightly on her stomach, she stared at the ceiling, letting the quietness wash over her.

The familiar click of the hidden doorway echoed through the chamber and footsteps approached.

“You’re early this evening,” Galfri said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

He hummed thoughtfully and walked to the small wooden bench against the far wall. Vaelira sat up, eyeing the plain cloth bag he was carrying, the items within clunking together. “Do you have the moonstone?” he asked, reaching into the bag. He pulled out a smooth round stone with a deep violet hue. Amethyst.

She got to her feet, reaching into her pouch and withdrawing the moonstone.

Galfri held out his hand, and she placed it in his palm. “This,” he said, lifting it between them, “is imbued with another’s essensia. You cannot use it to focus your own. If you try, it may shatter from the conflict.”

“I think I used it once.” She hesitated. “When the demon possessed Jon. I picked it up and a wave of power came from it.” She’d played those hazy memories over time and time again, and the more she thought on it, the more certain she was that the magic had come from the moonstone, not her.

“What happened afterwards?”

“I passed out.”

“I have never read anything of being able to control another mage’s essensia.” He paused, placing the moonstone on the bench. “It sounds more like it wielded you.”

“Is that even possible?” The thought unnerved her.

“I don’t know. Whichever of your ancestors it belonged to, you must be an extremely close descendant for it to react so strongly.” His brow furrowed as he passed her the amethyst.

Vaelira felt nothing from within the cold stone, but her fingers curled around it anyway. Her gaze drifted back to the moonstone.

“You are not discarding it,” Galfri said gently, “but your manifestations are growing faster than I anticipated. You need a conduit of your own.” He paused. “What is it?”

She didn’t answer at first, but he waited. Something in his patience made the words easier to say. “Last night,” she began hesitantly, “there was a girl. She was possessed, but still just a girl.” She inhaled sharply, fighting down the nausea. “I was so angry.”