Mercy

prologue ii

     The fire in her palm crackled, the illuminating glow casting dark shadows upon the pale skin of the young girl's face. The poetry of her face was quite daunting, her dark eyebrows and plump lips twisted in concentration as her eyes light up with a violet flame, similar to the flaming element wielded in her hands. 

     She could feel her bond weakening; dark voices emerging from the back of her mind, taunting her of her frail bond over the fire. The wildfire sputtered in her hands, the connection between herself and the flame severed. 

     "Foolish girl," a voice hissed, deep and dangerous. "I have more control over you than you do over your powers."

     The flame disintegrated, and the voices retreated within her mind. The child shriveled back, under the withering gaze of her father. 

     "You are not harnessing your fire. The fire is harnessing you," King Adonis hissed, his beady eyes glowing with anger. "Again!" 

     She had no choice but to obey. The child wielded her magic, ignoring the searing pain erupting in the back of her head. As the pain increased, she slumped against the gray cement, pitiful whimpers escaping her dry lips. 

     "Water," she rasped. The king marched toward her and kicked her drained body. "No," he refused, adamantly. "You will get a break when you deserve one,"

     A snarl emitted from the girl. The hatred for her father began to taint her heart, pumping abhorrence through her bloodstream, fuelling her veins. She could feel herself beginning to lose consciousness. 

    "No," she desperately clawed at her mind. Her conciseness battled against the voices,  as they surfaced yet again from the back of her brain. 

     "No," she once again whispered, only to be pushed to the back of her mind. 

     The king stepped back, trembling as he saw the purple of his daughter's eyes dilate to a deep ebony. 

     The child's limbs began to jerk as if she was having a seizure. Her deep honey curls cascaded down her face, shielding her ethereal features. 

     "Step away," the child rasped, a deep voice penetrating the King's soul. King Adonis may be a man of wise decisions, but he did not cower from his daughter.

     "Briar," he snapped. "It is not the time for games. Wield your fire!"

     The voice cackled. "Wield my fire? Why, I'll wield something much more dangerous to snap your bones and gnaw your brain."

     The ground quaked, rumbling as lightning struck the once sapphire-coloured sky. A crack appeared in the cement, and the King watched in horror as ghouls emerged from the ground, swaggering toward him. 

     As he screamed in terror, the girl slinked away, safely hidden in the shadows. As she found the voices retreating to the back of her mind once again, she collapsed on the ground, sobbing.