The fall

Chapter 49

Penelope

Darkness clung to my mind like a thick fog, but then—light. Blinding, white unnatural. My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in the center of an enormous room, the walls carved from obsidian, towering columns stretching high into an endless void. Rows of people surrounded me, watching in eerie silence.

Their eyes burned with judgement, their hair striking crimson—just like mine.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. The air was heavy, oppressive, charged with something beyond comprehension. I shifted in my seat, but my wrists were bound to the chair with golden chains that shimmered with an unseen force. I tugged at the instinctively, but they did not budge.

From one captivity to another.

A single figure sat at the front of the room, elevated above the rest. The jury. Their eyes bore into me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

"Penelope Dorothea," the voice rang out, cold and unyielding. "Your trial begins now."

Trial? My heart pounded. "What—?"

You stand accused of crimes against our kind," the jury continued. "And now, your punishment will be decided."

The crowd murmured, voices blending into a haunting chaos. The weight of their gazes pressed against me like iron shackles.

One by one, they began listing names.

Names of the people I had hurt. Names of the ones who had fallen by my hands. Some were soldiers, some innocent bystanders, all of the victims of the power I had never been able to control. Each name struck me like a blade to the chest.
Faces flashed before my eyes—faces of those who were begging for mercy—faces of those who's screams I could still hear at the back of my head.

"No," I gasped, shaking my head. "I wasn't—I didn't have a choice—"

"You murdered them."

"I lost control!" My voice broke, desperate. "I had no choice but to execute them! I didn't want it to happen!"

"Intent does not erase the blood on your hands."

I gritted my teeth. "I was forced! I was scared! If someone had just helped me—"

"Silence."

A force slammed into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I gasped, struggling to breathe as an invisible weight pressed down one me, forcing me deeper into my seat. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, like a storm building in the distance.

The jury's voice remained calm, unwavering. "For your crimes, Penelope Dorothea, you will receive a punishment worse than death."

The breath in my throat turned to ice. "Worse than death?"

They did not hesitate. "You will be stripped of your powers. And all of your memories."

No.

No, no no.

My pulse roared in my ears. "You can't!" I shouted, my voice raw. "You can't take my memories! Not of Blake, not of Gabriella, nothing! I promised Gabriella we would have that girls night—and Blake that I would always love him!"

"You can't take everything from me.." I continued, tears starting to form in my eyes. "I will do anything, please—"

"Your mind is tainted," They interrupted. "You used our gifts for destruction. You do not deserve to wield them."

I thrashed against the golden chains, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "I didn't ask for this!" I screamed. "I didn't ask to inherit my mother's abilities, I didn't ask to be captured—to be controlled—to kill people! I just wanted to be free, and you are cowards for being part of the Dorothea bloodline and not understanding how I feel!"

The crowd erupted in furious whispers, their expressions filled with disdain, with disappointment.

One of them—an elder woman with deep crimson hair, her face lined with wisdom and sorrow—spoke above the others. "You bear the name Dorothea aswell, which means 'gift of god'. And yet, all you have done is go against our laws as the crimson moon sovereign."

Something in me snapped.

"Shut up!" I screamed, my voice cracking with raw and deep emotion. "You know nothing about me, so all of you, shut up!"

But they didn't.

The world around me instead trembled, the very foundation of the courtroom cracking beneath my feet. I felt it shatter, felt the weight of reality twist and break apart.

And then—

Falling.

Everything collapsed into darkness.

A gasp tore from my lips as my eyes flew open.

I wasn't in the courtroom anymore.

I stood behind a woman, her presence both familiar and foreign. Her bright red hair cascaded down her back, glimmering even in the dim light.

I knew her.

She stood with a regal stillness, an aura of power radiating from her. Though I couldn't see her face, I knew she was waiting for me, as if this moment had been inevitable.

Then, slowly, she turned.

My breath caught in my throat. The face before me was my own—older, wiser, etched with time and grief. I stared into the reflection of myself, but this woman was no mere copy.

She was my mother.

Tear welled in my eyes before I could stop them. A sob broke free from my chest as my body trembled. "Mom?" My voice was barely a whisper, fragile and afraid.

She gave me a sorrowful smile, her own eyes brimming with emotion. As if she was apologizing for not being in my life. She reached forward and pulled me into her arms, cradling me like I was still a child.

"I'm so sorry, my love," she whispered, her voice filled with aching regret. "I know this is painful, but the memory wipe is necessary. You've suffered long enough."

I shook my head violently against her shoulder, gripping onto her as if she'd disappear. "No, mama! I haven't lived at all... I don't want to forget, I don't want to forget everything. Not Blake, not Gabriella—not everything I've fought for!"

She held me tighter, as if she could absorb my pain. "I wish I could give you another choice, my darling," she murmured before lifting my head and cupping my face. "My beautiful daughter, my beautiful Penelope, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, It's not your fault." I sobbed. "I just wished we had more time."

She pulled back slightly, her lips trembled as she kissed my forehead, her warmth sinking into my skin like the final touch of the sun before nightfall. "Me too, I love you so much, Penelope."

And then—she was gone.

I love you too, mom.