"When the Silence Breaks"
The night was a haze of static and dreams I couldn't separate from memory. I woke drenched in sweat, breath heaving, the sheets tangled around my legs like vines. I had dreamed of a field of bones and a moon that bled. I had heard voices chanting in a language older than time and seen myself standing in the center, crowned in fire.
By the time dawn painted the sky in gold and bruised pink, I was already sitting up, cold and wide-eyed.
I didn't want tea. I didn't want breakfast. I wanted answers.
Clora knocked on the door gently, her presence quiet and respectful as always. "My lady? Are you awake?"
My fingers twitched.
"Yes," I said. But my voice came out wrong. Too low. Too calm.
She opened the door and stepped in with a folded tunic in her arms. "Sir Luthor asked for you to meet him in his room after you've eaten. He said…"
But then she stopped.
Her eyes met mine. I saw the flicker of fear return. She stepped closer. "My lady… are you… feeling well?"
I was about to answer when something twisted in my chest.
No. Not just my chest. Deeper. Behind the ribcage. Behind the blood.
A pulse. Loud and sharp like a drum.
And her thoughts weren't even loud, but I heard them, felt them.
I don't she's alright. Something's wrong. Her eyes what happened to her eyes.
"Stop," I whispered.
Clora flinched. "I didn't say…"
"STOP!" I screamed.
My vision blurred. The room spun.
And then… I moved.
No, something inside me moved me.
I didn't think. I didn't blink. One second Clora stood at the doorway, and the next I was across the room with my hands around her throat.
She let out a choked gasp, the tunic falling to the floor, her feet lifting inches off the ground.
"Ma'am, Elira please!" she croaked. Her hands clawed at my wrist, eyes wide with confusion and terror.
My fingers tightened.
End her. Silence her.
Silence the voice. Silence the fear.
A thousand urges flooded my mind. Not all mine. I wasn't myself. No my body felt different.
Controlled.
I blinked rapidly, sweat dripping down my brow, the room flickering at the edges. My skin felt hot, glowing. My reflection in the nearby mirror showed my eyes yellow again, fully lit, rimmed in burning silver.
"No… no….what am I doing?" I stammered inside me.
But I couldn't seem let go.
She's afraid. You are fear.
You are the alpha. Let her feel it. Show her.
"Elira!" another voice boomed.
Luthor.
He slammed through the door with unnatural speed, robes flying behind him. His hand shot forward and with a hiss of unseen force, a blast of invisible wind pulled me back. I released Clora, who fell to the ground coughing.
I hit the wall hard, my spine cracking against stone, but I didn't feel pain. Only the pulsing throb behind my eyes, the fire beneath my skin. My mouth twisted. My fingers curled like claws.
Luthor's presence shifted. He didn't advance yet. He watched me slowly like he had before, but this time not with wonder.
With worry.
"Elira," he said calmly. "I need you to breathe. Just breathe."
"ahhhhh," I snarled in anger. My voice… wasn't mine. It echoed. Layered. Like something else spoke with me. "You did this to me. You."
"I guided the awakening," he said, raising both hands slowly. "But this…. this rage isn't yours. It's the Alpha's instincts. You have to fight it."
Clora whimpered on the ground behind him, still clutching her neck.
Luthor stepped in front of her. "You hurt her."
Suddenly a moment of resilience, I felt the pain of Clora and for that spilt second I became myself.
"I didn't mean to!" I cried.
"But you did."
The voice in my head said
I screamed. My head echoing with thought that wasn't mine, a collision of fear and the rivalry from my own body.
Unnatural force exploded from me like a tidal wave. The mirror shattered behind me. The oil lamp burst, fire catching briefly along the floor before Luthor waved his hand and snuffed it with a twist of air.
I charged.
Luthor stood his ground, bracing.
Our collision cracked the floor beneath us.
My hands swung, faster than I'd ever moved. My strength tripled. I clawed and struck with wild, primal force. But Luthor blocked every hit with fists, but still, the power in me burned, wanting to break.
I slammed my fist into the air near his head and cracked the stone wall behind him. His robes whipped around him like storm-torn banners.
"Elira! You must listen to me!"
"I CAN'T!"
"You must!"
He reached forward, grabbing my shoulders.
I roared and twisted, trying to throw him off but his grip was firm.
"Elira," he said again, softer now. "It's not anger. It's fear. You're scared. You think if you feel too much, you'll break. But you won't."
"I hurt her…!"
"And she's alive. You stopped. That means it's still you in there. Hold onto that. You are not a monster."
I trembled. My fists lowered.
The color in my eyes flickered.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," I said, tears burning now.
"I know."
He pulled me close. Not forcefully. Not like a commander. Like a mentor. Someone who truly cares
"I should have warned you," he whispered. "This power
This blood. it doesn't just come with strength. It comes with voices. With instincts. With history."
I shook. "I felt like I was splitting into two. An opening."
His hands tightened on my arms. "Then we need to make sure you are the one who controls what comes through."
Behind him, Clora had sat up. Her eyes were red, but she was breathing. When our eyes met, she didn't speak, but she didn't run either.
I dropped to my knees.
"I need help," I whispered.
Luthor knelt beside me. "And I will help you. But from this moment forward, you must understand: the path you're on… it's not just about power anymore. It's about identity. Survival. And war."
I nodded weakly, still shaking.
"The voices won't stop," I said. "They're always there."
"They're part of you now," he replied. "But you get to choose which ones to obey."
For a long moment, we stayed there kneeling on the cracked floor, surrounded by the wreckage of what I had almost become.
The silence returned. But this time, it was the kind that heals.
Clora finally stood, still clutching her throat, but her voice was steady when she spoke.
"I'll fetch water," she said.
Luthor nodded. "Thank you, Clora."
She glanced at me again. Just a second. Not hate. Not even fear.
Pity. Understanding.
Then she left.
When she was gone, I turned to Luthor.
"I want to know. How can I control this.
I want to know," I said. "Everything about what I am. Where the voices come from. And what it means to be… the prophecy."
Luthor stood slowly and offered me a hand.
"Then we continue again tomorrow. But this time, with your eyes open."
I took it.
This time I was ready, I was prepared for what to come.
Or so I felt