The Blinding

Chapter 40 - Tissa

"It wasn't real," I repeated in my head, knowing it was a lie. As we left Anab's grave behind, I tried to convince myself it had been a mere dream. But a glimpse of the skin peeking from under my robes reminded me of the harsh reality. I felt powerless despite the proof of my newfound abilities.
Glancing at the others, I wondered why this burden fell on me, not them. They all trailed behind, keeping their distance, their faces somber, their shoulders slumped. They feared me, and I couldn't blame them. Even I feared my powers. The accusing voice in my head labeled me a murderer, a label I couldn't deny. It was true, wasn't it? No matter the circumstances, two lives were taken. "It was an accident," I argued with the voice, but the thought was terrifying. If I couldn't control the surging magic within me, who might be my next unintended victim? Hani? Beydan? Samakaab?
My thoughts wandered back to my life in the palace, which seemed an eternity ago. I remembered the days spent scrubbing and polishing marble floors, and obeying Iftin's every command. Though it had been a hard life, it now felt small and simple compared to what I was facing. The urge to escape my own magic welled up in me with such force that I imagined ripping away my own skin until the source of the light within me bled out onto the ground. But despite my fear, these people were the closest thing to family I'd ever known, so instead of giving into my instincts, I clenched my jaw and stayed.
We had halted for the night, about halfway to Miandi. I had wanted to push on, to escape the memories of the day and seek out Elmi. But I conceded when I saw the exhaustion etched on my companions' faces. We arranged our sleeping mats, recreating our camp as before, though the camaraderie and adventure had evaporated. I retreated from the others and nestled into my spot, using cloths as makeshift blankets to conceal my luminous skin.
Someone poked me, and I hesitated before lowering the covers to find Samakaab with his sleeping mat in hand. He struggled to find the right words.
"Are you okay?" he finally asked, sitting down beside me with his mat. I sat up, and my cloths slipped down. His gaze traveled up my arms to my face, reflecting the gleam of my skin in his dark eyes. Shame washed over me, and I quickly pulled the covers back up.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with worry.
I cleared my throat, fighting back tears. "Would you be okay?" I countered. "If it were you, would you be okay?"
He didn't answer, but he didn't need to. His furrowed brows and lowered head spoke volumes. "I'm worried about you," he admitted softly.
"I killed two men today, Samakaab," I half-yelled, my frustration bubbling in my words. "How would you feel?"
"It wasn't your fault," he insisted.
"Wasn't it? I singlehandedly murdered two shifters, and it was beyond my control!"
"You were trying to protect us."

"And who did I protect?" I demanded, my voice rising even louder. "No one! Anab is still dead, and we're running for our lives, for goodness sake! What was the point?" My shouts dissolved into sobs, and I couldn't contain the overwhelming weight of it all any longer. "I don't want it," I heard myself cry, my nails clawing at my legs and my hands covering my face.
Samakaab gripped my wrists firmly, subduing my frenzied fingers and putting an abrupt stop to my meltdown. He held me close as I wept into his shirt, the uncertainty of my existence still haunting me but momentarily calmed. It took a while to register that the rest of the group had gathered around me. Through my tear-filled eyes, I saw their sorrow, concern, and love. I began to wonder if they weren't fearful of me but fearful for me. Their support didn't banish my turbulent thoughts completely, but it dulled them, much like Samakaab had subdued my hands moments ago. As the voices in my mind quieted, exhaustion overcame me, and I drifted into slumber with Samakaab's reassuring arms still wrapped around my glowing form.