Dust to Dust | ✓

11 || The Seafoam Core

For the first time, Aiko found herself awake before Zehra. The huntress slept soundly, as still as a rock, with her back to Aiko and the charred remains of the campfire between them. Darkness still reigned, stars glittering against the black expanse of the sky. The sun had yet to show its face and the sliver of a moon offered little light in its absence. Aiko couldn't tell what time of night it was, but she assumed it was still quite late.

Curse that Cinere. Grumbling to herself, she pushed upright. Felix's cloak lay folded beneath where her head had been, wrinkled from her fitful bout of sleep—if it could even be called that. She quickly gathered it in her arms, holding it close to her body. His scent was beginning to fade, but it was still there. It was now faint beneath the other smells it had collected during her travels, and she feared it too would slip through her fingers, leaving her with only the ghost of him in her memories. She tightened her jaw against the thought. She unfastened the clasp and swung it over her shoulders, letting it cover her in its deep blue folds, pretending it was Felix's arms around her instead. Don't be foolish, she chided herself. But the barest hint of his scent that lingered was a comforting presence, promising his return in the way it whispered to her. Perhaps the ghost had not yet faded.

She shook that away. She couldn't afford to be distracted. That's how she lost him, and it wasn't going to help her rescue him. Pressing her fist to her lips, she paced away from the camp and headed deeper into the mountain brush. She needed something, anything, to keep herself busy so she wouldn't drown again. The fire inside her flickered, tendrils of warmth reaching up toward her heart. A memory sparked to life. "Cinere told me I still wield the power of the Core," she murmured. "If I will it, I should be able to summon the flames."

Once she was far enough that she couldn't see Zehra's figure anymore, she stopped. Away from the forests, out high in the mountains, the sky seemed to stretch on forever. Nothing pressed against her nor confined her. There were no walls to trap her, no trees to confuse her, no gates nor advisors nor servants nor soldiers. It was just her and the sky—and the wind that kissed her skin. She breathed in the fresh air, letting its cool touch soothe the trembling in her limbs. Freedom. She was free physically, finally released from the prison of Crocea and Ameris's suffocating, watchful gaze. It was only her mind that remained trapped now, pinned beneath Cinere's claws and the wrath of the phoenix god. Perhaps commanding the flame was the key to her escape, and with that came the ability to free Felix as well. To ashes and to dust, the words echoed within her. You destroy...

"Now." She glanced down her hands, darkened with dirt and scarred from carrying her spear. Her heart wrenched at the sight, but she swallowed against the flicker of fear that rose inside her. "How do I... command the flame?"

In the past, it came easily, growing more fluid as she sank deeper into the Core's will. She was being consumed by it; of course it rose quickly to her call. Now, she couldn't feel its heat beneath her skin. There was something there, but it was distant and small. It wasn't enough to grasp and cling to, much less to shape to her will. In the back of her mind, she could feel Cinere leering at her. She gritted her teeth. "Shut up," she snapped preemptively. It was always only a matter of time before Cinere found an excuse to counter Aiko's opinion with her own, to crush all manner of individuality in the iron fist of her personal ideal.

I'm here to help you, a voice replied, reverberating across the very back of Aiko's mind. Laughter curled the end of the sentence and dragged it up in a show of confidence that Aiko herself couldn't mirror. All I ever want to do is help you.

"I told you to shut up."

Obedient for once, Cinere's voice folded away. Her presence lingered and Aiko found herself lifting her hand, palm aimed at the rocky face of the mountain. The world blurred, distant yet present, like a dream. Heat sparked in her skin, racing down her arm and boiling in her palm. Sparks flew from her fingertips, spitting uselessly before a roaring fire blazed to life, throwing warm light around her. Her fist closed, leaving only her pointer finger out to direct the flame. It condensed, shrinking to the tip of her finger, hissing with a rage she barely perceived. She swiped her arm through the air in an arc across herself. The flame shot from her finger like an arrow and hurtled toward the rock. A brilliant flash burst from the shot before it winked out, leaving only an ugly, black scar to speak of its existence at all.