The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 1

Chapter Twelve

Pools of molten gold replaced the once subtle sun-like irises of her eyes. The pain that had wracked her body moments ago had transformed into raw, untamed power. It coursed through her veins like a wildfire trapped in a calm forest, demanding to be released. Her grip on Rivana tightened, her knuckles turning white as her fingers trembled with the sheer intensity of the energy surging within her.

The intensity of it was both beautiful and terrifying, like watching a storm from afar, only now—she was the storm. An uncontrollable storm within.

She slowly sat up, picking herself up off the wooden floor with ease. Her fiery gaze locked onto her father's, his own eyes reflecting a sea of emotions.

"What can you hear?" His voice suddenly ripped into her mind as it had done before, only this time, his voice was as clear as crystal.

She closed her eyes, focusing on his thoughts, pushing away all other sounds until the only one to be heard was her father's inner voice. Smooth as glass, his mind was calming like a summer rain. Unlike her own head, his was not crowded; instead, it was open like a vast, untamed forest.

"I know, the power is overwhelming, exciting, exploring a part of you for the first time. But always remember, never to abuse it. It is like a living being, and it will try to corrupt you. Just listen to me, and I will guide you. Let me be your guiding star in the night," his thoughts moved like a gentle breeze, his eyes locked onto hers, forming a connection stronger than that of stone.

"Give it a form. Embrace it. Wield it. And only then can you control it," his guiding voice continued.

Onyx began to focus her power, fighting against its strong will as though it had a mind of its own. Its powerful strength threatened Onyx with the promise of dark corruption, its form both evil and good, dark and light. Both the master and the prisoner, like a shadow that was trapped and lurked within her.

However slowly against its will, it took form, manifested into a swirling, deep black fog around Rivana. The blade seemed to come alive, dark blue flames flickering along its edge, releasing black smoke, as if it had found its own heartbeat within the steel itself. The blade pulsed with energy, responding to her will, morphing into a vessel of power. No longer a mere sword; it had become a being born of both good and evil, capable of both the darkness and the light.

And only the wielder could choose its path.

-ooooo-

Rok's eyes fell upon the sky, rumbling with an angry gray as a sudden storm rolled in. The once clear horizon became shrouded in dark, foreboding clouds that seemed to stretch endlessly across the heavens. The air was charged with electricity as loud claps of thunder roared, however the air remained void of the slightest scent of rain. The forest around him took on an eerie stillness, as if every living creature held its breath—awaiting.

The storm that raged above seemed out of place, as if it were a manifestation of the turmoil within the forest itself. Rok could feel an uneasiness in the air, as if something had awakened. Something powerful that had laid dormant for far too long.

And then his mind drifted to Onyx.