Scars and Burns (No Light Without the Dark #1)

1. Dinalia

1

Dinalia

T hey say our memory is directly linked to our senses. Perhaps, that is why I am still haunted by that fateful night.

I was five when we fled our village during the attack from King Perseus. The ruler of the Shadowlands.

Our village lay on the border of his realm and that of the Celestial Realm.

Typically, the Celestial Realm was said to be safe due to its isolation and terrain of the mountains.

Wanting to expand his power he laid waste to my home leaving nothing in his wake but death and destruction. Black smoke filled with blue flames descending from all around us obliterating everything in its path.

I will never forget the sizzling sound of flesh burning.The gurgling of one’s last breath as their lungs filled with blood. The smell of crimson spreading through the air as my neighbors were gutted.

Hidden in our home, my Mother confronted an intruder telling me to stay down. Warning me not to expose myself. Peeping through a crack in my hiding place I watched the man as he seemed to be searching for somethin g

~ or someone ~ ransacking our home and shouting demands.

The prophecy, something about a prophecy.

Refusing to comply, he threw her to the ground. Beating her into submission. Drawing his dagger, I was sure I was about to witness my Mother, my only companion in life, be slaughtered. Murdered right in front of me. Then he tossed it aside. I saw him crawl on top of her and lure her skirt up with one hand. While the other held both of her wrists restraint above her head. Tears rolled down her face and her eyes met mine as she turned her head away. I saw it on her face. Urging me to look away and stay in place. But I couldn’t just sit there and watch this happen.

What was I to do? I had no battle courage or fighting ability. No great magic wielder. Not even a family name to give me a place of belonging in the world. I was no one.

Filled with disbelief. Frozen in fear. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears. Unable to breathe around the lump in my throat. I needed to do something. To be something. Anything so that this wouldn’t happen.

I pushed past my fear, swallowing it down without a second thought. Emerging from my hideaway, I picked up the man’s forgotten weapon and with all my might shoved the dagger through his side.

Knocking him off of my Mother. He faltered. Clutching his side with shock and vengeance in his eyes. My Mother scrambled to her feet trying to take the blade from me. But before she could reach me I was swinging with all my strength again towards the man that threatened my home. Grasping and hitting any part of him that I could.

Bloodied and bruised the man was all but dead, but it’s not enough. With one final stab I plunged the dagger into his heart. Staring directly into his eyes as I watched the light fade. And as his soul left his body it was as if all warmth in mine too dissipated .

I stilled, blade still plunged in the man’s chest. Retching the weapon from my hand my Mother grabbed my shoulders and knelt down to look at me. Covered in splattered blood. I dare not look into her eyes. Not wanting to see what lies there. Would she be shocked, afraid, angry… disgusted? Repulsed with what her own daughter had just done.

My Mother who is everything light and good in my life. Who taught me right from wrong.

Without a word she pulls me into her arms in an embrace I did not expect. I stare down at the man, eyes still open, not able to look away.

Before I was able to process what I had just done my Mother began rushing us out of the house. Gathering what few things we could carry. Running along one of the many paths that run through the mountains. Hoping we know our lands better than the Shadowlings. Escaping to the capital city of Azaria.

We traveled for days with no food and the only water to be found were in the streams that flow down from the glaciers in the high mountains. Giving me plenty of time to think about that night.

That was my first kill. Unleashing rage I didn’t even realize I carried. For who could have so much darkness inside of them at the mere age of five?

Darkness lives in us all, that’s what Mother says. We must follow the light of our Triple Goddess if we are going to prevail through the darkest parts of ourselves. Our Goddess’s light has blessed us all and we must do our best to allow it to guide us. Or darkness will consume our souls. For it is easy to descend into the night but harder to rise above and touch the stars.

But I can’t help but feel it calling to me now. A desire I didn’t know I had. A darkness that seems to conflict with the light in my soul that is supposed to be there.

I still feel its power. I crave it. The strength I felt taking back my home and defending my Mother. Replaying every moment in my mind over and over. There was a change in me that day. A seed of destruction began to grow.

On our journey, I vowed to make myself powerful and never again fear for my life. To be able to protect myself and my Mother at all costs. I will never be just no one again. For I learned an important lesson that night.

Killing is the sweetest thing.

And death is not a sentence but a release .