Amiriah Poc
The water from the shower mingled with my tears as I worked frantically to save my child. The purple substance clung to Lani's small hands and arms, pulsing with a sickening light that had no place in this world. I recognized it immediately—dark matter corruption, a byproduct of shadow dimension exposure to those without natural darkness abilities. My darkness had protected Lani during our brief visits together, but alone in the void, she had been vulnerable.
"Lani, stay with me," I pleaded, my voice breaking as I gently washed her cold skin. "Don't leave Mama, treasure. Please."
The water wasn't enough. The corruption hissed and steamed when touched by the shower spray, but it didn't wash away. It was feeding on her—on her life force, her soul, her very essence. Every second it remained attached was another second closer to losing her forever.
I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't.
With desperate clarity, I knew what I had to do. Focusing my power, I called upon my darkness—not the wild, chaotic force that had been consuming me since our separation, but the controlled shadows that were truly mine. The darkness that had protected us both for so long.
"Come to me," I whispered, directing tendrils of shadow to wrap around Lani's affected limbs.
The moment my darkness touched the purple corruption, pain lanced through me—white-hot and searing, as if acid were eating through my veins. The corruption fought back, recognizing my shadows as a threat to its meal. But I didn't stop, didn't even hesitate. I would endure any agony to save my daughter.
"Take it from her," I commanded my darkness. "Bring it to me instead."
Slowly, agonizingly, the purple matter began to transfer from Lani's skin to my shadows, drawn away from her and into me. Each particle that left her and entered my darkness sent fresh waves of pain through my body, but I welcomed it. Pain meant I was alive. Pain meant I was still fighting. Pain meant Lani had a chance.
I erected a soundproof barrier of darkness around the bathroom, not wanting the family to hear my cries of agony or the words I spoke to Lani. They didn't need to know about her yet—my precious secret, my light, my reason for everything. I wasn't ready for them to know, wasn't ready to share her with them or expose her to their judgment. Not until I was certain they could be trusted. Not until I was certain she would be safe.
As the last of the corruption left Lani's body, color began to return to her pale cheeks. Her skin, icy cold moments before, gradually warmed beneath my touch. I cradled her against me, rocking gently back and forth as I had done since she was a newborn.
"Come back to me, Lani," I whispered, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her small hands now free of the corruption. "Mama's here now. Mama's got you. The bad things can't hurt you anymore."
I could feel the corruption burning inside me now, fighting against my natural darkness, trying to consume me as it had nearly consumed her. But I was stronger than it was. I had been forged in pain, tempered by suffering. And more importantly, I had something to live for.
Through the eyes of my darkness wolves, I could see the family gathered anxiously outside the bathroom door, whispering among themselves, trying to piece together what was happening. Let them wonder. Let them wait. All that mattered was the small, precious life in my arms.
Lani's eyelids fluttered, the first sign that she was returning to me. I held my breath, hope and fear warring within me.
"Mama?" she whispered, her voice so faint I nearly missed it.
Relief crashed over me in a wave so powerful I thought I might drown in it. "Yes, treasure. Mama's here."
Her eyes opened fully then, those beautiful brown eyes so like my own, focused slowly on my face. "Did I die again?" she asked, confusion evident in her small voice.
The question struck me like a physical blow. Again? What did she mean, again? But this wasn't the time for questions. She needed reassurance, not interrogation.
"No, baby. You didn't die. Mama found you in time." I smoothed her damp curls away from her face. "The darkness tried to take you, but I wouldn't let it."
She nodded solemnly, as if this made perfect sense to her. "The purple stuff burned me," she said, looking down at her hands where the corruption had been. "It was eating me up."
"I know, treasure. But it's gone now. Mama took it away." I didn't tell her that it was now inside me, that I could feel it trying to devour my shadows from within. That was my burden to bear, not hers.
Lani reached up to touch my face, her small fingers tracing the tears on my cheeks. "Don't cry, Mama. I'm okay now."
I smiled through my tears. Even now, even after what she had endured, she was trying to comfort me. My brave, beautiful girl.
"Yes, you are," I agreed, pulling her close again. "And Mama's going to make sure you stay that way."
I rose from the floor, lifting Lani with me. She was still weak, her small body limp against mine, but her eyes were alert and watching me carefully. Through my wolves' vision, I could see the family preparing to intercept me when I left the bathroom. I wasn't ready for that confrontation—not with Lani so vulnerable, not with the corruption still burning through my veins.
Using my darkness, I transported us directly to my old bedroom, bypassing the family entirely. I laid Lani gently on the bed, arranging pillows around her small form to keep her comfortable.
"Rest now, treasure," I murmured, stroking her cheek. "Mama will be right here watching over you."
Her eyelids were already growing heavy again, the ordeal having drained her completely. "Promise you won't go away?" she asked sleepily.
"I promise." I settled beside her on the bed, maintaining physical contact as she drifted off to sleep. "Nothing will ever separate us again."
As she slept, I used my powers to sense the house around us. The family had dispersed, likely realizing they'd lost track of me in my teleportation. Good. I needed time—time to heal Lani completely, time to purge the corruption from my own system, time to decide how much, if anything, to tell them about my daughter.
They would have questions, of course. They would want to know who Lani was, where she had come from, what she meant to me. They would wonder about her father. Some questions I couldn't answer without revealing the horrors of the hospital. Others I couldn't answer because I didn't know the answers myself—like who Kai was.
For now, though, all that mattered was that my light, my treasure, was back in my arms where she belonged. And I would fight the entire world—my family included—to keep her safe.
The corruption continued to burn within me, but with Lani's steady breathing as a rhythm to focus on, I found the strength to push it down, to contain it, to begin the slow process of destroying it. I was Amiriah, and darkness was my birthright. No foreign shadow, no matter how virulent, would take me from my daughter.
"Sleep well, my light," I whispered to Lani as her dreams deepened. "Mama's here. Mama will always be here."
And this time, it was a promise I intended to keep, no matter the cost.