A Gift from the Goddess novel Chapter 154

“Breathe,” Myra said, gesturing with her hands for me to inhale. “Breathe and hold it.”

We’d been at this for a few hours now, Myra doing her best to teach me what she could. She seemed to know a lot about how the ability worked despite not possessing it herself. Though, as she had already previously pointed out, she’d raised a few generations of Knight children.

Truthfully, I didn’t expect to feel as comfortable around her as I did. We’d only just met but there seemed to be a deeper connection, something that was drawing me to her. A feeling of safety and reassurance in her presence, perhaps.

“…I am,” I muttered.

“Then ask me for this pen,” she said, holding it up in front of me. “Remember to dig deep inside, connect with that spark, and pull it forward.”

I did as she instructed, doing my best to reach for it. But it was difficult, increasingly so. The more we did this, the worse a headache was pulsing in my mind, slowly becoming worse.

I reached… and reached… and reached… and when I thought I could feel the spark, I grabbed a hold of it.

“Myra… could you please give me the pen?” I asked, trying to maintain it.

I watched as her eyes dilated for merely a second, her hand twitching towards me. However, she quickly snapped out of it, clapping her hands to sever the link.

I’d learned this was a method of breaking the influence, the loud noise intending to startle me. Though she had warned me that this may not always work, especially once I become accustomed to the abrupt distraction.

“I know you can do better than that,” she said, pursing her lips.

And I sighed in exhaustion.

“You’re struggling to connect,” she noted. “Are you holding yourself back? Don’t be afraid to rely on your wolf if you need to. They can help if you let them.”

And I bit the inside of my cheek, uncomfortable.

“I’d… rather not,” I said.

She tilted her head. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“Well… we just don’t, ah… get along, I suppose,” I admitted.

“But you’re the same person?” she said, as if it should have been obvious. “Your wolf is just an extension of yourself.”

And yet I hated that creature with a passion.

“If you are warring with your wolf, Rheyna, then it just tells me you have a lot of conflict inside. To hate her is to hate yourself. And to put blame on her for something she did is merely a method of scapegoating her for your own mistakes, your own guilt.”

I let her words sink in, unsure how to feel.

…Could that really be true? I guess I had blamed the beast for most of my problems despite my own actions being not much better. Anything it had done, I had technically done as well.

My struggle was born out of fear, out of anxiety that things would go wrong if I allowed it even an inch. It was out of a hatred for losing control… out of feeling a painful longing for things I missed.

“How about trying… an emotional stimulus,” she then said, making me look up confused.

She held a finger to her chin as if she were thinking.

“Aria had trouble with her wolf also. She once told me that she learnt how to use her ability by using emotional energy,” she continued. “This is why stressful situations tend to heighten the effect. Perhaps try thinking of something that conveys a strong emotional response for you… then hold onto it as you go again.”

The only strong emotion I was feeling right now was immense defeat and a keen desire for a relaxing bubble bath… but I doubted that would be good enough for this exercise.

And so I paused to think a little deeper.

I had no shortage of emotionally charged memories. I’d lived through enough pain, fear and heartbreak to last me a lifetime. But they were dangerous to use, requiring me to dredge up feelings I’d purposely buried for my own protection.

Though… I guess there were some more recent events that could work….

“Think… then breathe,” Myra instructed. “Hold it in your chest and concentrate. Connect.”

Connect. Right. Okay.

Connecting deep inside myself… to the newer emotions surrounding my time here….

Something that simply caused my headache to worsen, but I pushed through it.

“…Can I please have the pen?” I asked.

Only… it came out flat.

“Hold it, Rheyna!” Myra instructed sternly.

And she shoved her hand roughly against my chest, almost forcing the air out of my lungs as a crease formed between her brows. I knew she was just trying to help illicit an emotional response from me.

“You’re not concentrating enough.”

I thought about my time here, about my connection to Myra. How she felt somewhat like a mother figure, something I’d never known. A gap in my life being filled without even realising it had been sorely missing.

“…Please… give me the pen,” I repeated, gritting my teeth.

“No,” she replied, and shoved her hand against me once more, clearly not convinced. “Try harder.”

And so I dug deeper, to the feelings I was suppressing.

To the pain of being abandoned… to the anguish of having to grow up alone….

…To the jealousy over Clarissa, that she had been allowed to grow up with someone who treated her with love and kindness. To the betrayal that Myra had chosen her over her own blood.

“…Give me the pen.”

Tears were starting to sting at my eyes now, but I did my best to hold on to the emotions, hoping that this was enough.

And, finally, Myra seemed to hesitate. Only if slightly.

Her body paused, a confusion coming over her… but it still wasn’t enough.

I needed more… I needed to push past the barrier in my head… to grab a hold of the deepest corners of my mind.

…And I saw flashes of memories as I did so. Memories that made no sense.

Of blood… of wolves… of a night filled with stars above.

And running.

So much running.

“Give me the pen,” I huffed, unable to stop the tears from flowing now. “Give it to me, Myra.”

Her hand twitched towards me, ever so slowly….

“Give me the pen, Myra!” I yelled.

…And she finally gave me what I’d asked for.

“Of course,” she said, her voice in a dreamy state. “Whatever you want.”

But I’d dug into something inside that went beyond anything I’d intended to, the memories starting to flash with more frequency. Just still images that perplexed me, snippets that I couldn’t piece together.

But… I could feel it. Feel the emotion instilled within it.

And it was unbearable. All stemming from the memory… one where…

“…Don’t leave me,” I cried. “Promise me you won’t stay behind.”

I wasn’t sure who I was talking to anymore but Myra’s expression changed to one of confusion, the influence clearly still working but the context of the request unclear.

“What do you mean?” she then asked.

…And I blinked.

At the sound of her question, I blinked and pulled myself out of the memory, my body now shaking uncontrollably.

Too far. I’d gone too far.

I knew now that there was a barrier there for a reason, things I didn’t want to recall. And as retribution for this carelessness, the excruciating pulse of the headache only became worse.

I took a moment to breathe and then, slowly, I looked back up towards Myra, finding her still quietly watching me in a daze.