THE UNBREAKABLE PIECE (FIRST BOOK OF THE HIDDEN WORLD) English version

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: MY OWN CHAOS

It was Lexi who reacted first, even before any other member of my royal guard or my father's. She positioned herself in front of us and raised her hands, containing the water before it could touch us. After all, she was the only one who could help us besides me, or Harry, who, for some strange reason, wasn't with the rest of my guard.

I felt like my entire body had paralyzed upon seeing that tall wall of water approaching us without fear, knocking down several pine trees in its path. But once Lexi had taken care of it, my legs responded before my mind. Before Gemma could place one of her hands on my body to heal me, I ran in the direction Drahceb had fled. I would take advantage of the distraction my own chaos had caused and run until I reached him, until I found the portal he had created or any clue he might have left behind. Maybe he hadn't managed to escape, and finally, he had paid for his sins by burning in the celestial fire. My mind wanted to exhaust all possible options, creating a logical reason why he had left behind the people I loved to face a tsunami alone, a tsunami I had caused. I couldn't stay empty-handed; I couldn't let this anguish flood my body. I couldn't let frustration take me prisoner.

Despite the piercing pain in various areas of my body and my exhausted mind, I seemed to find my suffering, reason enough to keep running. My legs moved faster than usual; I had an energy I had never experienced. The colors around me were even brighter than that day when I arrived in Alba. The night resembled a watercolor painting sprinkled with stardust. Immersing myself in this forest, the scents were more delicate in my nose, and the sound of water in the distance sounded like an old melody. I had become an onpice again; I had regained each of my memories. My mind was no longer fragmented by the shards of a past life. I remembered every moment that had led me here, inside Phoenix, the forest of fantasy tales, since I could remember.

I could visualize my mother strolling with me through the gardens of Alba, my brother playing hide-and-seek with me inside Albus, my grandmother's reprimands for shouting too loud during our games, Ben's gentle and shy smile when he found me crying under a table, the first book my father gave me, "Matilda," my grandfather's hearty laughter after hearing some of my stories during dinner, the first time I met Ekaitz and his serene blue eyes, and the constant memory of Eamon pulling my hair while playing with Christian.

"Amy, please, stop running. We need you to come back," the sound of his voice echoed in the walls of my mind, and there was silence for a long second. "I need you, Amy."

He must be far from here because I hadn't heard the crunch of his boots on the pine needles.

"Stop running away from us, away from me."

I dug my boots into the earth. Branches had torn pieces of my dress, and now it was nothing more than a rag of fine silk with a corset that barely tightened around me. I had dug my nails deep into the flesh, causing a thread of blood to fall onto the grass, preparing the ground for a fresh sprout of red roses. The air in my lungs had captured the scent of mint and pine that characterized Phoenix, and I used it to call for serenity. I had to stop running; I couldn't do this alone. Not now that I knew I had him, forever by my side.

I pressed two of my fingers on one of my wrists, just above the E that had been magnificently engraved on my veins. I counted to three in French, as my father had taught me at the age of four to calm the anxiety caused by the darkness of the night. I used my healing gift to slow down the beats of my heart and, with my telekinesis, pulled the dagger from my chest in one swift motion. I screamed at the top of my lungs, revealing my position within the forest to Eamon, who ran in my direction as soon as he heard it.

He arrived at me with his heart in his throat, gasping for large breaths of air. The terror that something or someone had harmed me accumulated at the edges of his eyes, marking a wrinkle that I myself had caused by fleeing.