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" Rain came, pouring down,
When I was drowning,
That's when I could finally breathe "
―ONE PARTICULAR AFTERNOON of which we wait in the shelter of pines to wait out a storm, I find myself sitting alone, my knees tucked into my chest as I stare at the dark clouds. I tune out Alina's voice as she speaks with Mal, sharing the occasional sour retort with Zoya or Harshaw. I let out a long, exhale, seeking that familiar prickle of my skin that I felt on the terrace back at the Spinning Wheel, right before I made the top of that mountain turn into mist with the flick of a hand.
It suddenly occurs to me that maybe I really am more drawn into power than I let on. Wasn't this entire journey for the sole reason that I didn't want to feel helpless anymore? I've spent this whole time running from that sense of weakness that used to be an everyday occurence, the one thing I've grown to dread more than fear itself. Maybe I never really wanted power for myself, never wanted power to have control over anything but my life. Maybe I just wanted to find refuge in having power because I knew that the only way to really create a haven was with myself, in the confines of my own mind.
And maybe that was why I served the Darkling. To be under the blanket of such authority without the burden of holding such tempting power was what I wanted all along.
But is it still what I want now?
As I stare out at the horizon, those deep grey stormclouds, I wonder how it must feel to never have been afraid like the King, his carefree life, without a worry in the world and no responsibilities. A pang of resentment rushes through me, but it feels like the edge of a dull blade now. I'm satisfied with the memory of the fear in the King's eyes that day in the Spinning Wheel, that one moment where I made him finally feel how it is to have nothing.
But what I really want is to see that look in the Darkling's eyes.
How does it feel to be afraid?
I rub my arms, sensing the pines surrounding me, contrived by the very first seeds, the chemicals forming that deep green hue and fresh scent muddled with the rain. I feel the sturdiness of the rocky mountain we're camped on, the possibility of controlling it offering me a scrap of comfort.
I push myself to my feet and step out of the shade of the pines, feeling the spray of rain slowly bombard me and soak my clothes, my curls dripping onto my cheeks. I hear Zoya and Alina calling out to me but I ignore them, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.
Rainwater slides down my neck, sending shivers down my spine at the cool feel of it beneath my scarf. It's almost like I have the sense of controlling those droplets of water for a few long seconds, similar to the feeling of changing the state of matter of something in the Fabrikator workshops. That brief moment of being able to control liquids or gas like a Tidemaker would be able to. So fleeting and draining, and yet it intrigues me. To what extent could my ability expand to?
