Shadows of Eternity by Muller J.M

Author:Muller, J.M.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

TWO SIDES

Iwoke up in my rooms.

If I had to place a guess on it, it was two days before I truly broke the barrier of pain and rest.

Consciousness was an agonizing vise, with aching muscles and raging cells. Even the soft padding of my bed was too abrasive. The room was mercifully dark, with heavy blackout curtains covering the windows.

A warm body curled around my torso, and from it, a salve extended.

It was the only part that didn’t hurt.

She was mending me with her touch, healing properties on full throttle.

But it wasn’t enough, all the places she couldn’t touch cried for relief, and even the places she made contact with weren’t completely sedated.

The wounds I bore were deep.

“You’re awake,” she murmured, and even her voice, calm as a whisper was too much. I winced, and she placed her arm underneath my chin, wrapping my ears with her skin, curling over me like a smoke tendril. She dropped her voice, so low it almost couldn’t be counted, and said, “It was worse than you thought.”

Part of me let go. I nodded.

She grew tighter, her leg squeezing my stomach, her other leg running the length of me, draping herself over my body and it dawned on me she wasn’t wearing much for clothes.

Neither was I.

We laid like that, in the dark, our breathing matching.

“Daniel?” she breathed. “Are you okay?”

“Better,” I replied, and pulled her closer. I wanted to fuse into her. “That was hell.”

“Chanticlaim said it was worse than he expected.”

“It was worse than I expected, and I was expecting the worst.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Silent ticks.

“They had me waiting here for you,” Fantasia said. “They knew you were going to be in bad shape. They wanted me to heal you, to keep you invested.” She stroked my chest and part of her hummed. It reminded me of a purr. “I think they’re afraid you’ll quit on them.”

I closed my eyes; my lids even ached. “They’re right to be afraid. I don’t know…” My earlier thoughts reared. I wanted this—but I didn’t. Why was I doing this? Why was I committed to the task of removing powers, when I, in turn would have to suffer for it?

And I didn’t want my powers to go away.

I didn’t want the Art of Famine either.

Not even the thought of Amelia brought low was enough to balm my memory. It seemed petty at this moment. And asinine.

I could just remove those who were a threat. My own abilities would remain intact. The same outcome, different results.

My strength was strong enough to destroy; I wasn’t sure it was strong enough to withstand.

The Poison Quarters were silent. I couldn’t even feel Plague nearby.

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

She peeled herself away and looked at me. Her lavender eyes vibrant, even in the dark. “You’re going to quit?”

“It’s not a matter of quitting,” I seared, spitting out the last word. “I’m not a quitter. But this might be impossible.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit—”

“Stop.” I grabbed her hand, seized it.

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