Aeryn's hands were trembling when she again said, "Stop. Please… don't say anything more."
Her voice cracked, not from anger, but from a profound, brittle fragility. The weight of every broken legacy she had just learned had shattered something delicate inside her.
Sakina paused. Words of warning pressed against her teeth, but the look in Aeryn's eyes silenced her. She bowed her head and stepped away without another word. The heavy wooden door shut, sealing the tower chamber in silence.
Aeryn turned her face to the hearth, letting her eyes lose focus as the flames crackled and danced. She stood utterly still, stunned by the flood of truths that had just reshaped her blood, her name, and her very soul. Firelight licked the stone walls, throwing shadows across her face.
Then, suddenly, something caught her attention.
A scent.
It was faint at first, like blooming myrrh and spiced rosewater carried on the wind. A warmth that was not fire. A breath that was not hers.
She blinked, startled, and turned.
There, just beyond the edge of the firelight, stood a woman. Beautiful, regal, and royal, with a presence that made the air feel dense. She looked to be in her early forties, her crimson hair cascading down in soft waves, her hazel-brown eyes soft yet endless. Her dress shimmered like dusk silk threaded with sunlight. There was something hauntingly familiar about her face.
Aeryn gasped. Her heart lurched.
"I-It's me?" she breathed aloud in disbelief.
The figure laughed softly, covering her mouth with the most elegant and maternal gesture.
Aeryn stood up, frozen between wonder and dread. The woman walked forward slowly, and before Aeryn could react, she was pulled into an embrace.
It was warm, strong, and safe. Aeryn's strength instantly collapsed. She couldn't resist. Without needing words, she buried her face into the woman's gown, clinging tightly. Her body began to shake with loud, messy, aching sobs, and the spot beneath her cheek was quickly soaked.
The figure said nothing. She simply held her, one arm around her back, the other gently stroking her hair like a lullaby. The pain that had built inside Aeryn since childhood, the ache of not knowing, of losing, of being called cursed, poured out of her like a storm that had waited too long to break.
When her sobs quieted, the woman eased her down and sat beside her on the velvet couch.
"Aeryn…" she said softly. "I am your mother."
Aeryn's eyes flew open. "No. You are not," she said, shaking her head in fierce denial.
"Yes, I am, love," the figure said with a quiet smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"My mama had black hair!" Aeryn insisted, her voice a sharp whisper of disbelief.
"I know, love. But you are my daughter," the woman replied. Her voice was neither defensive nor accusing, only filled with impossible sadness and love. "I am your mama Anya, Aeryn… don't you recognize me?"
Aeryn stared. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her hands moved on their own, reaching forward, grasping the woman's hands tightly. Her own fingers trembled as her eyes widened, wild and glassy. She didn't know if she felt grief, joy, or horror, but her body knew. And her heart knew.
The figure, Anya, cupped her cheek with one hand and ran the other through her hair again, soothingly.
"My love," she said, her voice dropping, heavy with sorrow. "I don't want you to suffer. The Trinity… it ruined us. All of us. We got it without our consent. I tried all my life to get rid of it, but I couldn't. And when I saw that none of my children inherited this hideous power, I was relieved. I was happy. I stopped trying to get rid of it."
Anya paused. "I thought even though it ruined me, if it dies with me without affecting my children, that's all that matters. But seeing you now… my heart is in pain, Aeryn. I didn't want to pass it down. I didn't want to inflict pain and suffering upon my children. Never."
Aeryn didn't speak. The lump in her throat prevented it. The tears came again, quiet now, slipping down her cheeks.
"Aeryn! My love!" Anya's voice broke slightly. "This is not power. This is a curse. A memory of pain and suffering. But we have to break the cycle. What happened… happened. It was meant to be this way. But we cannot allow it to ruin our future. Can we?"
Aeryn, lips trembling, nodded silently.
Anya's hands gripped hers. "Aeryn," she said, with that same softness, "protect everyone. But do not protect everything, okay? This is not a power, it is a curse born in pain. Don't let it burn you, blind you, and then consume you!"
Before Aeryn could answer, the figure began to shimmer, her edges going faint and glasslike. The light around her dimmed. Her outline blurred like wind scattered across water.
.
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