Whispers of the Crown by Jacki C. Golden

Author:Jacki C. Golden [Golden, Jacki C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

***

Standing outside a few days later, I agree on intensifying my training in every aspect, whether it’s combat or magic.

Esra had explained to me that our visit to The Dark Fields would need to happen sooner than we planned, because we need to find out more about my heritage.

I haven’t even started to process that matter and simply do not want to go through that war of emotions right now. There are other things to focus on, and the people of Cleothiah are on the top of that list. If we can get the Shadows to ally with us and turn their back on the King, Esra says we might stand a chance. Might.

I focus on Elixa’s words as she instructs me on how to wield the powers surging inside of me, the others scattered around the lawn, focused on their own training.

I laugh internally at the thought of powers surging inside me. No part of me feels like I’m able to even manage a fraction of that; I haven’t even started to touch on the dormant power coursing through my blood, and suddenly I am supposed to be the most powerful being in this realm?

I try once again to rouse the slumbering magic in my body, without any success. I feel it might have to do with me not wearing The Crown of Rebirth, the relic that’s supposed to make me feel unstoppable. But how do we find a relic that wasn’t even supposed to exist, that was supposed to be a myth all this time?

I try not to think too much about every detail of what’s happening because I know, if I do, I might lose it all together.

“We know you have magic without wearing the crown,” Elixa starts, holding up her book as if the letters would jump right at her, “but clearly you don’t know how to wield it.”

I take a deep breath, trying to catch a tendril of power. No success—no surprise there. I sigh, trying not to feel too frustrated.

My emotions catch up to me at another failed attempt at reaching out to my power, and I can’t help but feel that all this magic hiding inside of me might lead back to the reason behind my adoption, the reason that there was nothing to be found about my past on my adoption papers. And, somewhere, that revelation calms me. Somehow it makes me feel better, stronger, to know that I had a life thanks to my wonderful parents, the people who loved me with all of their hearts, even though we didn’t share the same blood, and turned me into a good person. It’s thanks to them that I stood my ground through it all and didn’t let my soul be swallowed whole by the lingering darkness.

“How do you expect me to wield it? You know more about me than I do,” I answer, my head aching from trying to find the spot where my magic lingers.

But I can feel its tendrils everywhere, stroking softly from head to toe and back up again.

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