Unblessed Witch (Phases of the Moon #4)

3. Deva

3

DEVA

The moment consciousness filtered in, fatigue and discomfort wrecked my entire frame. My eyes felt impossible to open, and my chest pulsated with acute pain.

I couldn’t remember what had happened to me. I couldn’t remember or even begin to consider where I was or what I was doing lying on the ground. My hand stretched out to feel what was around me, soil coming up between my fingers.

With a concerted effort, I rolled over to sprawl out on my back, my gaze shooting skyward. Well, wherever I was, it— it was beautiful. At least the sky was, the stunning periwinkle, lavender, and navy ombre signaling it was most likely dusk.

Over me shone five perfect moons, each in a different phase of the lunar cycle. They glittered like diamonds and I reached a hand up, wishing I could touch them. I didn’t think five moons was normal, but I also couldn’t focus enough on what was normal to confirm.

After what felt like minutes but was most likely seconds of convincing myself, I finally managed to use my weakened arms to push up, my gaze darting around my environment. Although…I wasn’t sure you could call it that. There was nothing on the horizon, only the long expanse of soil beneath my feet. Rocks both big and small were strewn around me in a circle, but outside of that, nothing.

Where was I? Or where was I supposed to be, was a better question. My head pulsed at that thought and I shook it, trying to physically clear it, before slowly standing. I wore a blue sheath dress and was barefoot. My skin felt chilled, and when I brought my fingers up to my face, the tips of them were black.

Was I…was I dead? No. That wasn’t possible. Why would I be dead? How did I even die? I couldn’t remember what the last thing I had been doing even was, but I doubted it was something that would kill me. Despite my fuzzy thoughts, the concept of death seemed far reaching and almost impossible, so I was removing that from the list.

Deciding I would give my mind a few moments to refocus on our present reality, I moved toward the stones that had been placed around me and picked one up. It was warm and small in my hand, a rune on the top of it—but that wasn’t the surprising part.

The minute I touched it, a bright flame engulfed the rock. The heat didn’t even lick my skin, encouraging me to reach down and grab another—this one slightly larger in size and more circular.

Shadows swirled off of it as I lifted it from the ground, the silence around me suddenly broken by a soft phantom breeze. I held both rocks up, examining their runes and different powers before pressing their faces together, the runes brushing each other.

In glorious effect, a tornado of shadow and fire burst from between the rocks and shot straight into the sky. A smile pulled my lips as I slowly pulled the rocks apart, causing the creation to dissipate.

Did all of them do that? What was this place?

Putting the rocks back down in their place, I began to play a game, combining different stones to see their effect. A soft hum broke from my lips as I found I was enjoying myself greatly.

Placing two of the rune rocks down, one of blood and one of ice, I felt my brows dip at a weird surge of emotion that toppled through me. Why did I suddenly feel guilty?

As if answering me directly, my chest pulsed with a warm energy and a light began to shine through my dress. I pulled down on the material to reveal…a moonstone? When did that happen? It shone brilliantly, embedded in my skin, as I ran my fingers over it in awe.

Touching it brought another wave of emotion though, and my lips pulled down as an overwhelming weight of sadness grew heavy on my chest. Tears crowded my eyes, and a sense of loss threatened to drown me. I had lost something great, something just out of reach. The knowledge eluded me as I tried to reach for it, a thick wall of glass coming down out of nowhere at my attempt.

When I pulled my hand back, the glass disappeared, but I understood loud and clear. Whatever we—my brain and I—were forcing ourselves not to remember right now, it was on purpose.

Turning my attention back to the stones, I began to arrange them in patterns, the soft notes of a flute weaving through the air as I did so. I didn’t bother looking around; I had a feeling that the runes were responsible for the music. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but the way I viewed the runes had been altered. I saw them in a new light, as if they were clay to craft a masterpiece from.

After what felt like hours, I was interrupted by the shuddering of the world around me. I snapped my head up as the sky turned dark gray and the air grew heavy. It felt like something was pressing down on me, and I got the distinct feeling that something or someone was trying to break through the boundaries to this space.

But then the pressure was gone, leaving the faintest whisper of a scent that I found familiar and appealing. My throat grew thick as I tried to grasp at the memory that scent belonged to, but all it did was cause tears to gather in my eyes.

“Why am I crying?” I whispered, feeling embarrassed despite being alone. Or at least I thought I was alone.

“Because you’ve lost something. It’s only right to mourn.”

I spun to the left as a figure cloaked in a navy hood made its way toward me, barefoot in the soil.

“Who are you?” I asked, feeling only curious—I felt absolutely no fear.

The figure stopped in front of me and pushed its hood back. “You know who I am, Ayla.”

My eyes went wide. I did know her.

My mother.

The woman with deep blue eyes and my signature hair now knelt with me on the ground, her expression filled with sympathy and understanding. Slowly, as realization hit me, memories began to trickle in…about her. About my past. About him .

Astaroth.

“I see you’re remembering little bits,” she said, reaching to take my hand. “There is much more you have to remember, but right now you’re protecting yourself, only allowing in what is essential.”

“I hardly deem him essential,” I spit. Why was he the one thing I remembered? I could feel in every bone of my body that the man was pure, unrestrained evil. He had hurt me. He had forced me to kill. He had taken everything about me that had been good and turned it bad. I hated him.

My hand curled into a fist as I looked around, wondering again how I’d gotten here. Had…had he killed me? If my mom was here, this had to be?—

“Sort of,” my mom said as she uncurled my fist with her fingers, the touch soft and familiar. “But not fully…which is why we can be here in this state of limbo.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let’s look past the present for just a moment,” she said, “and go to the past.”

“When we were together.”

“Yes.” She smiled softly. “We are together now, but you can’t stay here—not forever.”

My eyes dropped from her face in disappointment, and I looked down at her hand in mine. “Why not? Why do I have to leave? He made me hurt people. He made me kill people. He’s a monster.”

“He is. Astaroth is so incredibly lost in his own darkness,” my mom said, closing her eyes. “I think he thought I could be his light at one point. I think that was the appeal he saw in me.”

“He hurt you,” I said angrily, wanting her to share in my fury.

“He did.” She nodded, her gaze going distant. “When I first met Astaroth, I knew what he did—I recognized what my father was involved in. I should have run, let the first time we met be our last…but I didn’t. I trusted my father to keep me safe, to understand that I would never want to be involved in anything like that. At the time, all I had wanted was to be a teacher, actually.”

And instead she was forced to deal with so much more.

“Did you meet him before your father handed you over?”

“Oh yes,” she said solemnly. “Looking back on it, I think he courted me—or tried to. There were gifts, letters. All unreturned. I knew…or I could feel there was something wrong about him, despite my father encouraging his advances.”

“So when your father finally turned you over, were you surprised?”

“Unfortunately, no,” she sighed. “Nor was I surprised when Astaroth killed him. I felt bad for the man. The way he died wasn’t pleasant.”

“He made you a prisoner,” I growled. “He deserved it. How can you be so calm about all this?” I didn’t feel right demanding anger from someone else, but at the same time, if anyone deserved to be angry it was her.

“I’ve had a long time to be mad, but it’s a waste of energy in my current state. I want to focus on you.” Reluctantly, she added, “And to Astaroth’s tiny credit, he did his best to create a world where he thought I could be happy. I was given every luxury, every want, wish, or desire?—”

“Except freedom.”

“Everything he gave me was tainted with the darkness that’s innate to him. He wasn’t actually caring for me, he was doing what he thought he needed to, to justify what he wanted in the end. I never gave him my happiness, though. His hatred, especially for the unblessed, sickened me.”

That concept rang true to me. The surface level-giving, doling out gifts and compliments and his approval—only when it helped him get what he wanted. His dedication to my mom, the way he coveted her, seemed less out of love and more that she was something to collect. An item in his fucked-up world. I’d seen him interact with others in the same ways but on a smaller scale.

“Why does he hate the unblessed so much?” I could remember his rants and the reasoning he gave me for each and every kill, but it never made sense and eventually I stopped asking. I just did as he said without question. The heavy weight of those memories nearly made my shoulders slump.

“His mother was an unblessed witch, as was his grandmother. In one of his more lucid moments, he explained that they’d abused him, horribly. Whether that’s true or not, I’m not sure. He may have invented it as a justification for his hate.”

“Even if he was, it doesn’t excuse…well, everything else.” I refused to feel bad for the man.

“No it does not,” my mom agreed. “Which is why I could have agreed to be his wife in a political marriage, but I would never ever have a child with him. He didn’t agree with it, but he never distinctly pushed either.”

“Until he did?”

“Until he did.” she confirmed. “I think he grew tired of me saying no to him, not only in regard to children but to so many other things—so one night he didn’t accept that.” Her words were so simple and filled with a finality that brought tears to my eyes.

“It was after I escaped that he truly lost it. Any humanity he may have once had is gone now. What he did to you is unforgivable. I am so sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to mine. “You were my greatest blessing in disguise. The hurt he inflicted was healed when you were born. You made me realize that even in the darkness he drowned me in, there could be light. I never, ever regretted having you, Ayla. I prayed every day to the fates to keep you safe, and I am so sorry I couldn’t keep that promise myself.”

Hot tears crawled down my face as I swallowed and squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad we’re together now, though.”

“I’m more thankful for that than you can know. But we’re currently on borrowed time, honey. I think you know you don’t belong here. You have an entire life outside of these walls, people you’d miss if you stay. This place serves a purpose, and as much as I selfishly want to, I can’t keep you here. I can only help you on your path forward.”

Who would I miss? It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t remember. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I felt a phantom pressure from beyond, the faintest whisper in the air that someone was still trying to reach me.

Tears welled up again as I tried and failed to reach back. Mom was right. I couldn’t even remember who they were, but I missed them so incredibly much anyway.

“You can help?” I asked, brushing away the tears.

“Your magic is growing, and soon you’ll be able to release it. As you drain the moons above, your magic is swelling like a deep ocean. Soon it will no longer be contained by the shackles that have held it for so long.”

Hadn’t I gotten rid of my magic? I swear that was why the silence around me felt so extreme, the only magic in this place coming from the runestones. I couldn’t feel a spark of my own magic under my skin. But why or how had I gotten rid of it?

My mom continued, not noticing my inner musings. “I want to show you how to channel this magic. I’ve seen those runes under your skin before. I spent many hours looking over the same books as Astaroth, and I can help you master them. Not just use them, but draw out and wield their full potential. Some part of you knows it’s necessary, else you wouldn’t have created a space like this—one solely tailored to rune magic.”

Had I? I hadn’t meant to, if that was the case.

Examining her determined face, I nodded and spoke with a harder tone. “I don’t know what I lost out there, but I trust you. If you think this is something I needed to know, then I want you to show me.” Even though I never wanted this time with her to end.

Cupping my face, she offered a soft smile. “Your new life is just beginning, and on the other side of this there are so many that love you. Let me show you how to get past Astaroth’s atrocities.”