The Awakening

Chapter Eleven

Avelon had come to a few silent conclusions as she lay on the table, staring miserably at the ceiling. First being that Balor and Elha did not give a rats ass about how long she had been laying on the stone table. She herself had not known how long it had been. Time blurred and it might have been days of suffering, though that might have been an overreactive thought.

Secondly, Avelon thought with a deep sigh- Balor was using the experiments to somehow try and bypass the awakening ritual- which was bad in the sense of how he was accomplishing it. She frowned deeply. She studied the pale ceiling above her, listening for any sounds beyond the chamber—anything to break the oppressive silence. But there was nothing. She could not help but think of the minimalistic shred of goodness in Balor that was sparing innocent Fae lives. He was only using them to create what the continents deemed a fully functioning Fae- if she were right on her assumption.

He's still killing Fae. Images of Fallon's parents flooded her mind, a reminder of the cost.

Fallon.

Thirdly and most importantly. Avelon knew, despite her inner thoughts and ramblings, she would kill Balor and Elha for what they had done to her and Fallon. Especially for what they had one to Fallon's parents. She could accept the possible hate Fallon might carry for her, but she would not accept Balor and Elha's cause for it.

Avelon's closed her eyes as she recalled Fallon's soft smile and clear eyes. The memory of her lifeless form, hair sprawled like a dark halo, haunted Avelon. She would wake to be an orphan and Avelon would not be able to console her for it. Avelon's eyes stung. She had to get Fallon out of the palace and away from Balor.

Would Fallon blame her for being the reason behind all this happening? She could not bear the thought as much as she could blame her if she had felt that way when she awoke.

She accepted the blame for what it was.

Accurate.

Avelon understood that the entirety of blood bending was still wrong, and utterly illegal, but a small part of her fragile heart wanted to believe that there was some goodness that would come from it. She would find a way to make whatever was happening a solution to what was happening during the rituals. If blood bending somehow ignited the stagnant powers within her blood, it could be used to stop the rituals from happening completely. Was that Balor's goal? She doubted it.

There was absolutely no need for them to kill anybody to achieve what they wanted. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of Fae who would have been willing to go through the blood bending experiments if it had meant that the rituals died down with it.

But they had been surprised.

Surprised when Avelon made it through the first experiment. Which could only have meant that very few candidates had made it before her- if any. Defeat rattled Avelon's bones at the realization. That was why blood bending was illegal- it was lethal.

Why had she survived it?

Avelon's brows furrowed as she tried to piece together the fragments of her thoughts. Had it been mere luck that allowed her to survive the ordeal, or was there a greater purpose behind it? Was some divine force—one of the Gods perhaps—playing a hand in her fate? The question lingered, but she dismissed it with a sharp exhale.

She was not a puppet.

With a quiet, frustrated hiss, she tugged at her restraints once more. The effort was pointless, she knew that. Any attempt to escape would end in failure. Still, the need to break free—to free her body from the painful bind, was a physical ache she could not ignore. Her body sang with pain with every move she made. Groaning in frustration she tapped her head on the stone.