In Nica's Shadow

NOTE: This story is discontinued and completed. It was written at a time I was very sick and thought. It would not turn out well. I have shifted the energy of writing to a new story that is a more intense form of BDSM and romance but doesn't delve as deeply in pending death and doom. In the realm where mortals tread, I observe their frantic scurrying, stumbling from grace, and bowing before false deities. They sacrifice kin and companions, seeking fleeting solace. The art of traversing known realms and conquering fear eludes them. I have allowed them to wander aimlessly for far too long. The foul scent of hope pollutes the world as they yield to fear, devoid of valor and pride. I dispatched my begotten sons, time and again, to seduce and ravage the sins of the masses, heralding an era of death and desire. Plagues and wars unfurled as my sons painted the world in chaos. A sly grin emerges upon my lips, for I delight in the spectacle. It reminds me of a nursery rhyme from a bygone era, whispered at a child's bedside. The darkness weaves strange reminiscences of the bittersweet. A child afflicted by plague's boils and the mother's dread realization of transmitting her malady. Through the ages, naught has changed since their first steps upon the earth. Agony and despair linger in the air, the essence and longing of existence. Amidst the apparent serenity, a subtle note of turmoil wafts—a melody of corrupted souls. For even in their docility, these creations can wield ruthlessness. Alas, they revere strength, unaware that the mightiest often shatter, crying like infants as their bones snap between my fingers. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Should you seek a tale of systematic oppression, generational torment, vile assault, and the macabre, I extend an invitation to the narrative of innocence's demise—the beauty found within life's darkest corners. The battle yet wages, and perchance, as my final thoughts manifest, redemption shall unfold its melodic strains. Or perchance, I shall pen their ultimate sentence—an exquisite requiem, unbridling my vengeance in the shadows cast by Nica.

DerekJPerna · Fantasia

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53 Chs

CH 41 - Lily's Spells

Walking through the great hall at night, Lily feels a sense of calm as she stands in the same spot her training began. As her mind lingers on the sound of Gabriella's words. Exhaling her breath, she focuses on the palm of her hand, watching as a small flame comes to life. Protecting the delicate flicker becomes greater as she watches a small ball begin to form.

Lily quiets her mind as she begins to wonder something about the flame. Staring at the flame, she whispers soft, gentle words to it. Praising both the flame and the coldness of the touch. The flame flickers softly as she feels less of a burden to her mind to maintain it.

Lily slowly passes her fingers through the flames as she feels the soft rippling pull at her flesh as she passes her fingers through. The soft flames dance across her fingertips as she focuses on the feeling. The flame diminishes. Lily presses her fingers into the ball of fire in her hand as it seems to disappear beneath her skin.

"Shit!!" Lily exclaims as a quick tingling shoots up her arm as the ball brushes against a nerve.

Focusing on her hand Lily watches as she tries to envision the flame moving freely through her body. Trying to be comfortable with the fire moving through her body. But she needs to trust herself to rely on spells when push comes to shove. In a moment of rage, it would be almost impossible to remind herself she needs to be careful.

Her life has been sheltered. She has never known struggle, hate, or fear. How can she possibly know how she will react when something comes her way? If Gabriella is right that magic is destructive, she must avoid it at all costs. The worst thing that could happen is placing herself in a position to fail.

She has to be more than what she is. Anything less, and she will fail the moment she is challenged. Sighing deeply, she begins to walk and move quickly. Trying to learn to pull the sphere from her body without wincing too hard. Lily sighs and wishes she was better at hiding her true feelings. There is nothing worse in a battle that she could think of than tipping her hand.

Even in all her arguments with Olivia, she always was seen before it began. Olivia had known when she was about to argue something on the scriptures. Scriptures written by human hands, teenagers like herself interpreting dreams, were not infallible.

Lily sighs as she moves through the great hall. She can't help but feel like her life would be different if she were still in the village. As much as Caesar entices her and cares for Gabriella, there is something magical about a mother's love.

A love she wishes she still had now so she could talk to Olivia about Caesar; while she wants to follow him, she has never been close to a man before. It is terrifying to feel vulnerable with one. In truth, she just wished she had her mother's advice.

If she were honest, she would be drawn to Caesar. But he terrifies her, and no matter what Gabriella says, she still sees the light as it leaves Sera's eyes. Shuddering in memory, Lily redecorated herself to the task. Sera died because he was so swift and didn't show his hand before he struck. Sighing, Lily returns to her practice; she needs to master this to go together the next time Gabriella goes somewhere.

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