The Nightwillow

Chapter 9

Micah Tabbris would never be called a man of inaction, so Sophie knew something had happened to push him to this edge. His frustration never seemed to ebb, no matter her efforts at this new level of training.

"Sophie. Control!" her father shouted, exasperated yet again. "You're all over the place. Start again!"

There was that word again - control.

In Sophie's short life, control had never quite been something she'd mastered. Sure, she wasn't an impetuous child. She understood the concept of control, and being in her 20s, she was a tad bit better at not giving in to her impulses and baser instincts. However, she could never seem to get to that point where she was a complete master over her thoughts, feelings, actions...anything. That lack of control seemed to be what got her into more tight spots than she could count.

And now that lack of control was exasperating her father who stared at her with a deepening furrow between his brows.

It wasn't like she didn't know she was something different, unique. If he told her one more time how her energy was something they had never seen before, why it was important that she focus and get control over it, she just might scream.

Of course she was all over the place. Thoughts of what she was, why she had this calling, what this stupid calling was...it never seemed to end. The questions just bounced around, keeping her unfocused and control outside of her reach. Her father thought this energy a weapon, if she could harness it, but how does one harness something this wild without breaking it?

She glared back at him. Meditation was getting her nowhere. Not when the energy still came bursting out at inopportune and unpredictable moments. It was untamed, and she wasn't so sure it wanted to be controlled. Sometimes it just leaked out of her, desperate for its release, like it had been bound for so long and was now clinging to any freedom it could get.

His anger cowed to her own glare, and he acquiesced to their silent argument. It wasn't like he couldn't understand his daughter. She was far more like him than her mother. She would never be the society matron that Lovie was becoming. Sophie had a fire that burned inside her, an unsettled desire that could only come from the seraph clawing its way to the surface.

"Fine. That's enough meditation for now. Time for study." He motioned to the worn table in the corner framed by his endless shelves of precious books.

She practically sprinted to the corner, grinning as she ran her fingers over the spines of his well worn tomes. If she couldn't feel the comfort of a sword hilt in her hand, a book would suffice to make her feel at home. Both were powerful weapons. One held life or death on its sharp edge, the other held life or death in the knowledge it bestowed.

"It is time for you to start understanding your seraph," Micah stated, pulling down a thickly paged text from a shelf. It crackled as he opened to a page covered in glyphs.

"Am I supposed to understand this?" she asked.

"Study it a bit," he prodded.

So she stared at the page, which did nothing but stare back at her.

After a few minutes, she looked up at her father, cocking an eyebrow.

"Just keep at it," he said, going back to his own reading.

Sophie rolled her eyes. What was this supposed to teach her anyhow? These were just lines on a page, symbols that may mean something to someone, but that were utter nonsense to her. She could read French, Spanish, and even a little Italian, but this might have well been Chinese for all she knew. She slammed her hand on the page. What was he thinking? This was worse than meditation. This was -