Daughter of Dusk
Chapter Four: Healing

Slowly, I hover my hands over her chest. Even from here, my fingertips tingle as the stress radiates from the area, telling me I’m in the right spot.

I meet her gaze, sensing nervousness in her eyes; I should say something.

“This shouldn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” I start, thinking of when I’ve healed myself. “You’ll feel something, but it will be akin to a light pressure of sorts. But, please let me know if it becomes too much, all right?”

She nods, closing her eyes as her body relaxes.

I shut my eyes to better focus on lifting the sickness from her. It feels like energy that has gone stagnant. Dead, even, attaching itself to Soren’s mother so that it can survive. I can imagine it in my mind’s eye, like a ball of string unwinding, bringing the pain with it as it travels upwards, expelling into dust the moment it touches my fingertips. I hear her cough a few times – a horrid sound – but she doesn’t give me any signal that she wants me to stop.

The illness hooks itself to her, digging its fangs into her body. Anxiety races through my veins in time with my pounding heart as I question if I bit off more than I can chew, if this is even going to work. But I have to keep going. I can’t stop now.

I lose track of time, wholly directing my energy into healing her. The only thing I feel is Soren reaching out and putting a hand on my shoulder, but this doesn’t distract me by any means. If anything, it helps, keeping me motivated to help her. To help him. To prove to myself that I can do this.

I know I can do this.

I know I’m strong enough.

My fingertips buzz with a newfound intensity as I pull on the dead claws of the sickness one more time, and ever so slightly, their hold slips. Seeing my chance, I contort my face and give them one last pull, forcing them away from Soren’s mother with all my might, until . . .

Finally, they release her from their unforgiving grasp.

By the time I’m brought back to my senses again, I’m pulling the last of the ailment from her body. The dead energy evaporates into nothingness, as though it was never attached to her to begin with. My limbs are heavy, but I stand up as straight as I can, wiping a trickle of sweat from my hairline.

Even now, there’s a great relief radiating from her body, but her lungs are still a little irritated. I imagine that will go away with a night’s rest; it’s likely from her being so sick for a few days. But otherwise, she seems to be well again.

I slowly lower my hands and look at his mother. The previous dark circles under her eyes are now undetectable. The rosiness has returned to her face, now exhibiting a very similar complexion to her son. It’s like her life force has been re-ignited, more powerful now that the sickness is gone. The spark has returned to her silvery eyes and bright features as a wide smile appears on her striking face.

Something about her feels familiar, but I don’t pretend to know the reason why. Perhaps it’s just my imagination.

Part of me is in disbelief. I had no reason to believe this wouldn’t work, but just the confirmation that it did, that Soren’s mother looks so much better already, has me in shock.

At least I hope that’s all it is. A small part of me is worried that I took on the sickness for her in the process of healing, but I think I would have felt it before now if that was the case. I think I’m just drained because my energy needs time to come back.

She smiles at me, opening her mouth to say something as a wave of vertigo washes over me, the sensation blocking the sound of her voice.

I put a hand on my head, trying to catch my balance, but the spinning room makes my attempt futile. Soren puts his arms out in case I fall – which thankfully doesn’t happen – but his hand gently grazes my upper back in the process, and my heart skips a beat.

After a few more deep breaths, I manage to push the dizziness away as my vision focuses on Soren’s mother again.

I glance at him with a nod. “I’m all right now.”

Soren looks between his mother and me before rushing to her, holding her tightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay, Mother.”

I smile as I take in the beauty of the moment. It feels foreign to me, but one day, I want something like this to feel like second nature, as it does for Soren and his mother. I want to be able to have this kind of relationship with someone. Whether that be a parent or a friend or a lover.

I want to know what unconditional love feels like.

Soren moves back to me as his mother’s eyes meet mine, a warm smile crossing her face.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Her voice is stronger now, but still gentle.

I nod. “I should be fine, it’s just, that’s the first time I’ve ever healed anyone besides myself,” I say sheepishly.

“Could have fooled me,” she says with a light, bell-like laugh, before giving me an inquisitive glance. “You said you were born with healing, right?”

“Yes.” I decide not to elaborate any further. It’s not as though there’s much more to tell about it. I’m not sure where it originated from – I’ve never been able to replace answers in my library. But now that I know I’m allegedly the only Shadow Wielder who can do it, that raises a host of new questions within me. But I push them aside for the time being.

“What an interesting gift.” She smiles. “May I ask, how did you meet Soren?”

I look to him, readying an answer, but he speaks before I can with an impish grin. “Fate, I guess.”

I smile in return before glancing back to his mother. She reaches her hand out to me; her grip is strong. “I truly can’t thank you enough for helping me. I want you to know you’re always welcome here. If you ever need a place to stay, or if there’s anything you ever need, we’ll be here for you, okay?”

My breath staggers before I nod, managing a small smile.

Now I know where Soren gets his kindness from.

“Thank you, miss . . .” I trail off, realizing I don’t know her last name.

“Oh, no need for formalities. Call me Rhea.”

My mind wanders to Father. This woman – Rhea – has known me for about ten minutes and has already given me more kindness than Father has in my entire lifetime.

The thought makes me bitter – angry even – for half a second, but it fades once I focus on the good energy in the room again.

She releases my fingers and Soren puts a hand on my shoulder again, sending a cool shock through my skin.

“Can I steal you for a moment?” he whispers.

I look between him and Rhea, to which she gives an approving nod.

“Go ahead. I’ll be okay. I feel better than I have in days,” she says with a laugh. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I smile goodbye as I exit the room.

Soren leads me down the stairs and into the living room I saw earlier. Before I can react, he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me.

I freeze for half a second before returning the gesture, resting my hands on his back, letting his good energy surround me. Losing myself in the safety of his arms. It’s like the princes I’ve read about in my library, ones that will protect their true love from anything that crosses their path.

“Sorry, I know I only just met you, but I can’t – I can’t thank you enough.” His voice breaks as he embraces me tighter. “I didn’t know how much longer she had.”

“It was no trouble. I’m glad to see her doing so much better already.” I run my hand along the soft fabric of his brown tunic, feeling the strength of his shoulders beneath my fingertips.

Now that I think about it, this is the first person in my life who has been kind to me. Actually kind to me. Not out of obligation, and it’s not a fake, mocking kindness that I’ve come to recognize. Or the sickeningly sweet kindness that always precedes cruelty.

This is genuine.

He is genuine.

“I never knew anyone could be like you,” I start before realizing my thoughts manifested into words. “You have no reason to be so nice to me.”

He pulls away from the hug, but I still have to look up slightly to meet his silvery gaze. “What do you mean? Of course, I do. But even if I didn’t, I still like you. I’m not going to be unkind to you for no reason.”

He says it so simply, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the universe.

“No, I – I only meant,” I sigh. “I’m not used to it, I suppose.”

A sad empathy fills his eyes. “What kind of life have you known in that Manor?

Is someone mistreating you? I can speak with Darius, maybe he can –”

“No, don’t,” I cut him off before I can stop myself. “Don’t say anything to him.”

“Why? Shouldn’t he know about something like that?”

I shake my head. “Ideally, yes, but you can’t say anything to him.” I absentmindedly run my hands through my hair. “We’d both get reprimanded, and it’s not like he’d do anything about it anyway.”

He frowns. “Why would he punish you for something I do?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because you’re not to blame, Luna. It’d be my choice to say something. That doesn’t fall on you.”

It takes me a moment to fully process what he’s saying. Is he right?

Even if he was, it doesn’t matter. I know how Father runs things. I know how to survive among his cruelty. Soren doesn’t.

I sigh. “That’s not the way he would see it. He can’t even know that you know me, let alone what I did for your mother. And if you stuck up for me he would know I told you about. . .” I trail off with a shaky exhale, and take a deep breath. “It’d blow up in both our faces. And I – I don’t want to see you suffer because of it.”

His face softens, but I can almost see the gears whirring in his mind. “There’s more to this than you’re letting on, isn’t there?”

My eyes widen. Oh no.

I open my mouth to respond, but my words turn to ash in my throat as my heart pounds out of my chest.

I said too much.

“Hey.” He reaches for me, gently brushing his fingers along mine before retreating. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want,” he whispers. “But I’m here, when you’re ready.”

I nod, letting my shoulders drop with a small smile.

Would it be such a bad thing if I told him the truth?

No, I can’t seriously be considering telling this person who I really am.

But then, I just helped his family in such a big way, and I want to ask him for help with transportation magic, and he doesn’t know the truth about me. . . is that even right?

The more I consider it, the fainter Father’s voice becomes in my mind, being replaced by something else, something that actually resembles me.

I . . .want to tell him.

He deserves to know.