Her words cut through the haze of anger and fear, and I felt a wave of emotion crash over me. I had spent so long feeling isolated, overwhelmed by the weight of this new reality. But now, for the first time, I saw a glimmer of hope. I wasn't alone. I had people who understood, who had walked this path before me.
I took a shaky breath, the storm inside me quiet but not gone. "I don't know if I can do this," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You can," Grandfather said, his tone unwavering. "And you will. But it will take time, and it will take trust- Trust in us and trust in yourself."
I looked at them, at the strength and serenity they exuded, and for the first time, I felt a flicker of something other than fear. It wasn't acceptance, not yet, but it was a start.
Jia and Devon watched from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity. I met their eyes, and for a moment, I saw something in them that mirrored my struggles—a longing for understanding, for control, for peace.
I thought the hardest part would be confronting the power itself, but I was wrong. The real battle was everything spiraling around me.
Jia approached cautiously, still nursing the blistered marks on her arm, her expression stormy. "You almost burned me back there, Taryn," she said, her voice tight with restrained anger. "Do you even realize how dangerous this is? How dangerous are you?"
I flinched. I didn't mean to lash out like that; it was the Aether, not me. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking. "I didn't mean to—"
"But you did," Jia cut in, her eyes blazing. "And what happens next time? What if Devon hadn't pulled me out of the way? What if someone else gets hurt?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. She was right, and the guilt clawed at me, suffocating in its intensity. It wasn't just me struggling with this power—it was everyone around me, and I was dragging them into a danger they didn't deserve.
Devon, silent until now, stepped forward. "Enough, Jia," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We're all trying to figure this out. Coming down on her isn't going to help."
Jia turned on him, her frustration boiling over. "And what happens when she loses control again, Devon? Are you going to stand there and hope for the best? We're not just bystanders in her personal disaster—we're the ones who have to pick up the pieces."
"Jia, that's enough," Grandmother said sharply, her tone brooking no argument. The tension in the room snapped taut, everyone freezing under her steady gaze. "We are all in this together, and turning on each other will only make things worse."
Jia looked like she wanted to argue, but she bit her tongue, her frustration still simmering under the surface. She stepped back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, but her glare stayed fixed on me. The weight of it was unbearable, and I had to look away.
As if the tension in the room wasn't enough, there was a sudden knock at the door. Grandfather tensed, a shadow passing over his features. "Stay here," he said, his voice low, and before anyone could question him, he disappeared down the hallway.
"Who could that be?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
Grandmother didn't answer; her serene expression was replaced with a rare flicker of worry. The air felt charged, like the moment before a storm, and an unease settled over me.
When Grandfather returned, his face was grave. "They're here," he said, his voice like a death knell.
"Who's here?" Devon asked, his posture immediately alert.
The knock at the door reverberated through the tense silence like the toll of a bell. My heart was pounding now, louder than my thoughts, louder than the memories of Jia's accusations still swirling in my mind. Grandfather's ominous declaration echoed back: "They're here."
The words felt like a blade hanging over us, ready to fall.
Grandmother moved to stand beside me, her hands gripping my shoulders with an intensity that surprised me. "Taryn," she said quietly, her voice steady but grave. "You need to trust yourself now more than ever. Stay focused."
Grandfather was already opening the door, the faint creak of the hinges amplifying the unease that gripped us all. Then came the sound—heavy, staggering footsteps that dragged across the floor. A figure emerged from the shadows beyond the doorway.
The sight of them made my stomach drop.
It was a man, or what had been one. His eyes were wrong—they were vacant yet blazing, a horrible contradiction that sent chills down my spine. Dead and alive at the same time. The corners of his lips were cracked, blood staining his mouth as if he'd been chewing through his flesh. And his movements were jerky, unnatural, as though his limbs were puppets pulled on unseen strings.
But it wasn't just his appearance that set him apart. The air around him shimmered faintly as though it had been warped by sheer force. I could feel the power radiating off him, raw and uncontrollable.
"Grandfather," Devon muttered, his voice tight with fear. "Who is he?"
Grandfather didn't answer immediately. His face was grim, his jaw clenched. "Not who," he said finally. "What?"
Devon's shadow shield cracked under the assault, the force of each blow shattering the energy like glass.
"He's sensing the power," Grandmother said, her voice sharp as she pulled me back. "It's like an instinct. He knows exactly where to attack."
The realization hit me like a tidal wave. This wasn't a man anymore—this was a weapon. A living, breathing killing machine designed to hunt and destroy anyone who had powers like mine.
The room erupted into chaos as we scrambled to protect ourselves. Jia tried to strike at him with her Fire, but he deflected the attack with ease, almost as if he could anticipate it. His movements were hauntingly precise, like he could read our intentions before we acted.