Chapter Ten – Training the MONSTER
452 Words
“You’re waking faster than expected.”
Berio stood in the center of the maze, watching me closely.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means your control hasn’t caught up with your power,” he said. “And that’s dangerous.”
Beryl stood beside me, silent but alert.
“So what do we do?” I asked.
“We train,” Berio replied. “Before the Pleads force you to.”
Training was nothing like I imagined.
It wasn’t spells or chants. It was discipline. Breath. Emotion. Control.
“Feel it,” Berio instructed. “But don’t let it consume you.”
At first, it was unbearable.
Every emotion felt amplified. Anger burned hotter. Fear cut deeper. And love—
Love nearly broke me.
Every time I looked at Beryl, the energy inside me surged, silver light flickering beneath my skin.
“Focus,” Berio snapped. “You’re letting him anchor you too much.”
Beryl stiffened. “Is that a problem?”
“Yes,” Berio said bluntly. “And also her greatest strength.”
I clenched my fists. “Then teach me how to balance it.”
Berio studied me for a long moment. “Very well.”
Days turned into weeks.
I learned how to ground myself—how to pull the chaos inward, how to release it slowly. How to listen to my instincts without obeying them blindly.
But the hardest part was learning restraint.
One afternoon, exhausted and frustrated, I stormed out of the maze.
Beryl followed.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said.
“I don’t have a choice,” I snapped. “They’re coming, whether I’m ready or not.”
He grabbed my wrist gently. “You don’t have to face this alone.”
I turned on him, emotions flooding dangerously. “Every time you touch me, it gets worse!”
His grip loosened immediately. Hurt flashed across his face.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
The words cut deep.
I stepped closer instead of pulling away. “That’s not what I meant.”
He looked at me, vulnerable now. “Then tell me what you meant.”
“I meant… you’re the only thing that makes this bearable.”
He exhaled shakily. “Renny…”
“I don’t know how to be strong without you,” I admitted.
He cupped my face carefully, like I might shatter. “Then we’ll learn together.”
This time, when he kissed me, it wasn’t reckless.
It was intentional.
The energy inside me stirred—but it didn’t explode.
It settled.
And for the first time, I realized something terrifying and beautiful:
Love wasn’t weakening me.
It was teaching me control.
- Writer
