Vengeance

Chapter 4

I awaken to the hushed murmur of voices and the ghost of gentle fingers brushing across my cheek. My body feels leaden, as if the weight of the world has been poured into my veins, pinning me to the ground. My mind, however, stirs restlessly—chasing the threads of consciousness as they slip and tangle like smoke.

I don’t open my eyes. Not yet. Instead, I hold myself still, straining to listen.

“Vi… she is in danger here,” Lettie whispers, her words sharp and trembling with urgency. “Anyone could have seen that light. If word reaches the king, he will come for her. He will not hesitate. He’ll either claim her as his own personal plaything or twist her into a weapon for his wars. Neither fate is one I would wish upon my worst enemy.”

A heavy silence follows, weighted and suffocating, before she presses on. Her voice is iron wrapped in velvet. “Vi, you swore—if anything ever happened to her, you would tell us the truth. I think now is the time. No more secrets. No more delays.”

My chest tightens. The faint scent of hay, leather, and horses drifts through the air, telling me where we are. A stable. But there are more than just my mother and Lettie here—the subtle creak of boots on wood and the steady rhythm of breathing tell me Arianna and her father, Elric, are here as well.

My mother sighs then—a long, weary sound that cuts straight into me. It’s the sound of a heart that has carried too much for too long, a sound I’ve heard only a handful of times in my life. But never like this.

“You’re right,” she murmurs at last, her voice fraying at the edges. “You’re right. I should have told her sooner.”

The world seems to still around me. My pulse hammers in my ears.

“The day I gave birth to my child…” My mother’s voice trembles, thick with something between grief and shame. “He was born dead.”

A collective gasp ripples through the stable. Arianna stifles a cry; Elric exhales sharply, his disbelief filling the air like a gust of cold wind.

“I was drowning in agony,” she continues, and now her words are broken glass, jagged and bleeding. “I thought I would die from it. But then… she came to me. A woman. No, not a woman—something far greater. She offered me a choice. To live with the unbearable grief of losing my son, or… to accept another child. A little girl. One who was… different. One who was special.”

My breath catches. I can feel the blood rushing in my ears, my hands trembling though I have yet to open my eyes.

“When I looked at her for the first time,” my mother whispers, her voice softer now, so quiet I almost miss it, “I knew I could not turn away. I agreed to raise her as my own. When I asked who she was, all she said was this: that she was a goddess, and that she had an interest in keeping this little girl alive. From that day on, I swore I would protect her no matter the cost.”

A trembling hand threads through my hair, soft and reverent, as though afraid I might break. “And though she is not of my blood,” she breathes, her words heavy with aching tenderness, “she became my daughter in every way that mattered. My heart chose Calista.”

Something inside me fractures like thin glass beneath too much weight.

My eyes snap open, blurred by the sting of unshed tears. I push myself upright on trembling limbs, every breath burning like fire in my chest.

“I’m not really your daughter?” The words scrape raw from my throat, barely more than a whisper, yet they echo louder than any scream.

My mother reaches for me, desperation etched into every line of her face. But I recoil before her touch can find me, my breaths sharp and uneven, like a bird beating itself against the bars of a cage.

“Calista, please—” Her voice breaks. “You are my child. From the moment I held you, I knew. Blood means nothing. Nothing. I love you with every piece of my soul, and I swear to you, I will protect you until my last breath.”

I want to believe her. Stars above, I want to. But the truth she has unleashed suffocates me, pressing down until I can hardly think. Who am I, if not her daughter? What am I?

A sharp gasp slices through the thick silence.

“Oh, sweet goddess…” My mother’s voice trembles, but this time it’s not grief—it’s fear.

Blinking, I meet her wide, horrified gaze. She isn’t looking at me—she’s staring into me. At my eyes.

Her hand flies to her mouth. “Your eyes…” she breathes, dread curling in every syllable. “If anyone sees you like this, if word spreads… the king will know. He will come. And when he does—” Her voice cracks. “I can’t keep you here.”

Her words land heavy, sinking into me like stones into the depths of a river.

Abruptly, she turns to the others, her urgency returned tenfold. “Please—keep her here. Do not let her leave this room. I must gather our things. We must leave at once.”

Lettie and Elric exchange a grim, knowing glance before both nod.

“Don’t worry, Vi,” Elric says, his deep voice steady as a mountain. “We’ll help you. We’ll keep her safe. Hell, we’ll be going with you.”

My mother opens her mouth to argue, but Lettie pushes her firmly toward the door. “No time for arguments. Go. Now. We’ll hold everything together until you return.”

For a heartbeat, my mother hesitates. Her eyes meet mine—dark, aching, full of love and terror. A look that pierces straight through me, leaving me raw and trembling. Then, with a sharp breath, she turns and runs.

The room falls into silence, save for the restless shifting and the pounding of my heart.

I sit frozen, numb, my chest rising and falling too fast. My mind is a storm, thoughts colliding, shattering, drowning one another.

But only one remains. A single question, louder than all the others.

Who am I?