Page 62 of The Starlight Savior

“You can do whatever you want. But first, why don’t we start with what troubles you today?”

“I told you, bad morning.”

“And bad evening. You slept very little. Something troubles you, and we can’t move forward until you can work through this.”

“Move forward? We’ve done very little of anything.”

“Is that true?”

“The first few weeks were dedicated to learning every little thing about the deities, and now we’ve been sitting in a meadow, breathing. The only moments I’ve been able to touch my magic is when I’m just…consumed!”

“It sounds like it frustrates you that you haven’t made progress in your magic.”

“Of course it does!” Saige said louder than she had intended. She ran her hands through her unbrushed hair, fingers getting stuck in forgotten knots. “That is what I’m here for, isn’t it? Why people have died. Whatever this”—she flung her hands up—“is, I’m supposed to use it against the mist. Against whatever is killing our lands. I know it’s progressing, and we’re sitting in a meadow while I still can’t do shit!”

“There is a lot of pressure on your shoulders, expectations that you didn’t ask for.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, you know that!” Her fists clenched at her side. Tobin was beginning to walk back and forth, the tip of the sword trailing on the ground. Tears formed in her eyes, but she shook her head. She would not cry.

“It must be especially difficult knowing all your mother and father kept from you.”

“Don’t speak of them,” Saige barked out through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to hear of them.”

“Is that where your anger lies? Towards your parents? Or towards the mortal who harmed them, taking them away from you, changing the course of your life?”

“Stop!” she shouted, but it was too late. The sob she tried to hold back escaped, retching through her body. Tobin strode over to her in two steps and dropped the sword at her feet.

“What would you say to your father now? If he was right here.”

Saige shook her head, letting her hair fall around her face to hide the reddening splotches on her cheeks, the snot dripping from her nose. Her lower lip trembled as she clenched and unclenched her fist. She knew what was coming.

“I’m sure you have so many questions.”

She raised her head, looking into Tobin’s expectant eyes. “What are you doing right now? What is your goal? To torture me? To rip through my feelings and kick me when I am already down? Well it’s working.” A cry tore through her chest before she could choke it down. “Of course I have questions for him. For my mother. For all I know, I didn’t even know them! I thought I did, and he was able to hide the truest part of himself. He knew exactly what I was and what I’d become, and he did nothing! My mother too. Instead they fucking damned me to this.

“I believed it was a curse, and it still is, but it was not just the Gods and Goddesses who cursed me with this. It was my mother and father. But they are dead, and there is nothing I can do about it.”

Her vision became blurry as she lowered her body to wrap her sweaty hands around the hilt of the sword. With a scream, she flung all her weight at the fabric dummy. It was heavy in her hand, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t even see as she slashed at it, imagining a variety of different faces plastered on the dummy’s head.

General Kadence.

King Vospella.

Myles

And for a shameful moment, her father.

Because deep down, she wasn’t only angry with the person who killed him or the king that had stolen her away from Brevil. She was also angry with the man who had lied to her. The warlock who had hidden Etrane. Because life would’ve been so much easier if she had just known. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t hate this piece of herself so much. But he had taken that from her. And she could not forgive him.

Not yet.

When her arms tired of the weight, she dropped the sword and used her fists instead. She slammed her body against the dummy, ignoring how silly she probably looked. When the dummy fell to the ground, she used her feet instead. Her boots left indents in the fabric. The sword had cut through deeper than intended, letting hay spew out of its body.

With a shaky breath, Saige fell to the ground beside the cut, beaten dummy and heavy sword. She lowered her head. The anger in her body was gone, but shame and sadness remained. It hurt to breathe, but her chest was lighter than before. An airy feeling in her head made it feel weightless on her shoulders. Tears silently dripped down her cheeks, but the sobs and screams no longer tore through her. A tranquility was sweeping over instead.

“Focus on your breath,” Tobin said from behind her.

She obeyed. There was no energy left for her to argue with him and whether this benefited her. With shaky hands on her knees, she breathed in and out through her mouth. Her eyelids lowered. There were no thoughts for her to catch because she had worked through all of them somehow. She didn’t even mind that her stomach still grumbled and her hair stuck to her face. There wasn’t enough energy left for such a thing.