Rezak gasped, a sharp pain lancing through his chest as he rolled onto his side. He pushed himself up on his arms, wincing. He'd ditched the bandages just yesterday, relieved to be free of their constricting pain. But the red-haired man's kick was a brutal reminder of his lingering vulnerability. No ordinary man could deliver a blow with such bone-shattering force.
Gripping his long-knife, he spun around, searching for Sera and the red-haired man. But the space beside the dying embers of the campfire was empty.
"He took her," a small voice piped from behind him. Delena stood there, her eyes wide with a fear that mirrored his own. "The Creator."
Rezak scoffed, disbelief warring with dread. "How do you know that?"
Delena approached, her gaze flickering to the knife in his hand. "I wasn't asleep that night," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I heard everything. Rezak, we have to save my mother."
He stared at the empty space where Sera had stood moments ago. A cold knot tightened in his gut. He would save her, he had to. But the vast unknown stretched before him, devoid of direction or clues.
**********************
The damp earth chilled her skin as Sera opened her eyes. A throbbing ache pulsed through her head, dissolving into a dull throb with each inhale, exhale. Mist swirled around her, thick and silent, amplifying the rhythmic echo of her own heartbeat. She clung to her breaths, seeking an anchor in the disorienting silence.
Then, a snap.
The mist swirled away, revealing a circular clearing at its center. And standing within it, a figure. The Creator.
"O Sera," his voice resonated, laced with a disarming sincerity, "I only asked you for one thing."
Fear clenched her throat, raw and potent. She scanned the clearing, desperate for Rezak, Delena – any familiar comfort. Relief washed over her when she found them absent. "You tricked me!" she spat, her voice laced with venom.
"Did I?" The Creator tilted his head, the silver circlet on his brow gleaming in the ethereal light. "Did you not seek the power to destroy lives?"
His words struck a chord, sending a tremor through her resolve.
"Your uncle – a vile creature," he continued, his hands clasped behind his back. "What he did to you…what he stole from you at the tender age of twelve…was unforgivable."
Sera squeezed her eyes shut, memories crashing into her like unwelcome waves. The knock on her door, the silhouette filling the doorway, the animalistic fury in his eyes…the screams echoing in the silence of her home, unheard by parents long gone. Orphaned, helpless, she endured what no child should. "Stop!" she cried; her voice hoarse with the echo of that long-ago plea.
The memory, a jagged shard embedded in her soul, fractured the wall she'd carefully built around her pain. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, weakening its hold. Tears streamed down her face as she crumpled to her knees. "Please, just stop."
"I feel your pain, Sera," the Creator's voice softened, feigning empathy. "The hurt, the rage… the helplessness. Tell me, who do you blame more? Your uncle who inflicted the wound, or those who stood by as you bled?"
Another scene materialized, a fresh horror. Her uncle, trading her like a commodity to a despicable merchant, the confines of the room, the endless parade of faces, the degradation… the slow erosion of her humanity. She watched herself transform, not a woman but a tool, numb to the pain. "Stop!" she screamed, her voice tearing through the silence.
"Why fight it now, Sera?" the Creator chuckled, amusement creeping into his voice. "You craved their demise, didn't you? Justice in the form of fire and ash."
She saw herself escaping, the kindness of a stranger offering shelter, her fear of men slowly dissolving with his gentle touch. The love in his eyes, a balm on her wounded soul. Meroz, a name whispered on a sigh, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
The cracks began to mend, sealing the fissures that leaked her rage.
"But you had everything," the Creator mused, his amusement morphing into something akin to frustration. "Why seek me out then? Ah, I see."
His image shimmered, revealing another memory. The merchant, back in town, recognition flashing in his eyes. Her desperate pleas, the chilling demand of silence, the room filled with a dozen faces, each losing their humanity in the shadows. The fresh wound in her soul, a bottomless well of emptiness that only revenge could fill. The red-haired man, a tool, and the perilous path she walked. Each man who died, fuel for the inferno within.
"You killed them all," the Creator declared, his voice booming. "They burned, your uncle, the merchant, all of them. I gave you the power, and you wielded it well."
With each choked sob, her body trembled, echoing the turmoil within. "Why are you doing this?" she rasped, tears blurring her vision.
The wall shattered, its fragments falling away. The power of Destruction, unchecked, surged through her veins.
The Creator smiled, the silver circlet morphing into a blinding gold. "Because, Sera, you haven't yet reached your true potential."