Spirit's Awakening (Book 1 of Spirit's Calling)

Secrets

In case you don't know:

Y/n = Your name
N/n = nickname

Y/n stuffed her hands in her pockets, head lowered, green eyes staring daggers into the ground, messy blonde hair framing her hardened expression.

Her father had requested her presence in the throne room, so she had no choice to obey. But usually when he summoned her, it only meant pain.

"Y/n my dear!" His high-pitched voice reached her ears even before she'd opened the ornate wooden doors to the throne room. "How are you today?"

Y/n grit her teeth, knowing it was all an act. "I'm well, father. You called for me?"

She wasted no time getting straight to the point, wanting nothing more than to escape back to her room after her training. Then maybe, just maybe, she could have some peace.

"Yes, yes," her father agreed, fiddling with the edge of his robe. "How is your training coming along? Did you finally beat my favorite daughter?"

For a brief moment, Y/n closed her eyes, trying to shove back her rage. "No," she replied slowly, "I did not."

Her father tsked. "I told you that you must beat her to eat with us tonight! Well, I guess it's the prison food again. Dismissed!"

Turning on her heel, Y/n stormed out.

Despite her increasing power, she could never beat her sister. Not when the older sibling could literally copy Y/n's every move and counter. It was quite frustrating to have her powers copied like that.

In all honestly, Y/n had no idea how she could contain her anger so well. She never once lost control, never snapped back, never felt her powers surge to the surface when she was angry at someone. In fact, they subsided, as if warning her not to take action, or she could hurt someone. Something deep inside her soul told her it was not okay to hurt another person.

Y/n was so focused on staring at the ground that she didn't notice her father's right-hand man walking down the hall until she crashed into him.

"Oh." Y/n's eyes widened at her predicament. She was on the ground, pressed against a wall, the man standing tall over her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"Stop," the man snarled, approaching her while rubbing his face where Y/n had hit. "I don't want to hear it."

His words sent shivers down Y/n's spine. "Sir, I wasn't looking, I'm sorry!" Begging was her least favorite option, and the words tasted bitter on her tongue. But it was the only way to escape the brunt of his wrath.

However, begging didn't matter to him. He knelt next to Y/n, his short black hair seemingly casting a shadow over Y/n's face. The eye shadow didn't help, either, giving the man a sinister aura. His very presence made the air feel cold.

"Prison food, was it?" He asked quietly in a nasaly voice. "You can say goodbye to your dinner."

Y/n inwardly slapped herself. If only she'd looked up, avoided him, and went on her way — she could've had food that day. Instead, she'd have to wait for the next night. "Yes, sir," she replied tightly.

The man straightened, hands folded neatly behind his back. "That's what I thought. Go train with your sister."

Y/n scrambled to her feet and bowed, then sped down the hall. She felt anger replace her fear, swirling in her heart. Her stomach growled in protest of her actions and she cringed, making a mental note to be the perfect daughter tomorrow. No more crashing into higher-ranking people, and no more disobedience.