The burden of power
930 Words
The fire crackled softly in the stone hearth of the abandoned chapel they had made their base. Shadows danced across the walls, flickering like ghosts of past sins. Elysia stood near the stained-glass window, her arms folded behind her back, watching the wind toy with the branches outside. Her presence filled the room—cold and commanding.
Ivy approached slowly, her footsteps soft but deliberate. “You wanted to see me?”
Elysia turned her head just slightly. “Yes. It’s time.”
Ivy’s brows furrowed. “Time for what?”
“To test your loyalty,” Elysia said simply, turning to face her. “There are witches out there—unawakened, confused, dangerous. I need you to go to them. Help them unlock their powers.”
“That’s it?” Ivy asked, surprised.
Elysia’s expression was unreadable. “No. If they pose a threat, if they begin to question too much... you know what to do.”
The air shifted. Ivy took a step back. “Wait... you’re not saying I should—”
“Kill them,” Elysia said, her tone sharp and matter-of-fact. “If they become a risk, you end them. Cleanly. Quietly.”
Ivy’s heart pounded, the words crashing down like ice water. “They’re just witches. They’re like me. We can help them.”
“And what if they expose us?” Elysia asked, taking a step forward. “You think humans would tolerate our kind if they knew what we were? They’d burn us all, they tried it several years ago and they'll do it again. My ancestors lived through it. I won't let it happen again.”
“You said I had a choice,” Ivy whispered. “Back then. When you offered me power, you said I could walk away.”
“I also said you wouldn’t survive without me,” Elysia replied, voice low. “I was right.”
Ivy’s jaw clenched. “So that’s it? Loyalty means killing anyone who doesn’t fall in line?”
“Loyalty means survival,” Elysia snapped. “And survival requires hard choices. I didn’t become what I am by playing nice.”
Ivy stared at her. “You sound like them. The ones who cursed you.”
A flicker of something passed through Elysia’s eyes—pain? Anger? Regret? But it was gone before Ivy could grasp it.
“I’ve already crossed that line, Ivy. You still have the chance to make the right call. If you don’t, someone else will. And it won’t be as gentle.”
Silence stretched between them like a blade.
Finally, Ivy nodded, slow and reluctant. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” Elysia said. “You leave tonight.”
As Ivy turned and left, her mind was a storm. Every step away from Elysia felt like it pulled at her soul.
Behind her, Elysia stood frozen. When the door closed, she finally exhaled and moved to the stone chair by the hearth, sinking into it. Her eyes were distant, drawn inward to a place she never let anyone see.
Her gaze drifted to the flames, and with it, her mind to the fire that had forged her.
She’d once believed in mercy.
But mercy had nearly destroyed her.
She was two when the supernatural world cast her out. Born to a blood demon queen and an alpha werewolf king, she had been deemed an abomination, a threat to every magical order. Her parents—ruthless, calculating rulers—didn’t kill her outright. No, they did worse. They abandoned her in the human world like a broken artifact, unwanted and forgotten.
Humans took her in. A noble family. A king and queen with no children of their own. They raised her, fed her lies about her origins, dressed her in silk and silver and love she never quite believed in.
Until she turned seventeen.
Until a vampire mistook her for a mere human girl.
He drained her. Left her cold. Dead.
But she woke up. Something ancient stirred inside her. Her powers surged to the surface like a tidal wave breaking free. And with that awakening came memory.
Her real parents. Their betrayal. The truth of what she was.
She returned to the supernatural realm not as a lost girl—but as a storm.
She killed the vampire who turned her. Sliced her mother into pieces with a sword that made the idea of a weak point irrelevant. Crushed her stepfather’s ribcage until his royal lungs caved in beneath her wrath, then she fed him to the sea monsters. Burned down the werewolf stronghold with the alpha—her biological father—howling inside it.
She didn’t walk through blood. She became it.
They called her tyrant.
They were right.
The flames flickered again, snapping Elysia back to the present. She flexed her fingers, the phantom weight of a sword still lingering in them. She had carved her path alone.
Now, Ivy questioned her. Kieran defied her. Elias—sweet Elias—tried to understand her. And Lily… Lily softened her.
Too many strings. Too many attachments.
Her hand brushed the edge of the stone armrest, fingers trembling for just a moment before curling into a fist.
“Foolish,” she muttered. “You can’t care. You can’t afford to.”
But a part of her—buried, bruised, bleeding—was already too far gone.
She had once been unwanted.
Now, she ruled.
But the girl who was thrown away still whispered in the quiet moments, wondering if maybe… she didn’t have to be alone.
- Writer
