Chapter 1: Beyond My Imagination (Part 2)
Training.
For others, it was a path to greatness. For me, it was a ritual of disappointment.
Even now, I can remember the texture of the training mat beneath my knees, the faint scent of sandalwood from the incense Father insisted on lighting to steady the mind. The chamber was quiet except for the flicker of flames in the lanterns, their shadows dancing against the stone walls.
I sat cross-legged, my palms resting lightly on my knees, and tried to still my restless heart.
Breathe in…
Breathe out…
Father stood nearby, arms folded, his gaze fixed on me with that mix of hope and concern he never seemed to shake. A beast core lay in the center of my lap, faintly glowing, pulsing with life force. The energy inside it whispered to me—sweet, tantalizing, promising power if only I could draw it in.
"Focus, Lailac," Father said softly. "Guide it with your will. Imagine the energy flowing through your meridians, filling you."
I nodded, my throat tight, and placed both hands over the core. My body trembled as I reached for its essence, willing it to flow into me.
At first, it responded. A faint warmth seeped into my palms, like the first rays of dawn touching frost. It slid into my veins, winding upward through my arms, racing toward my chest. My heart quickened, hope flaring inside me.
Yes. This time… this time it will work.
But then, as always, it happened.
The warmth shuddered, faltered—then vanished. Gone, without resistance, without reason. The beast core cracked, its glow extinguishing as though snuffed out by an unseen hand.
Inside me, only emptiness remained. A hollow ache, as if the energy had not empowered me but carved a deeper void within.
My breath hitched. My chest burned with humiliation more than pain.
"No… no, please…" My hands clutched the dead core as tears stung the corners of my eyes. "Not again."
I slammed my palms against the mat, the echo ringing through the chamber.
Why? Why was I like this? My siblings drew power into themselves as easily as breathing. I had watched them glow with radiance, their auras blazing as they broke through to higher realms. And yet I… I could not even hold a single thread of energy.
My fists shook. I am the daughter of Haines Kaizah. I should not be this weak.
A hand rested on my shoulder. Father knelt beside me, his voice low, steady.
"Lailac."
I turned my face away, ashamed to let him see the tears. "It's useless, Father. I… I'm broken. I'll never be like the others."
"Broken?" His tone sharpened, cutting through my despair. He gently lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You are not broken. Do you hear me?"
"But the energy—"
"Then it will take another way. Another path," he interrupted firmly. "Do not measure yourself by their pace, Lailac. You are not them. You are you. And one day, when your bloodline awakens, the world will understand why the heavens made you this way."
I wanted to believe him, desperately. His conviction was like fire—warm, consuming, pulling me toward its light. But beneath it all, doubt gnawed at me.
What if that day never came?
What if I remained forever in this void, a shadow clinging to his side, hated by my family, pitied by those who saw me?
The silence stretched. I lowered my gaze again, whispering so softly even I barely heard it. "I don't want to be useless."
Father's hand tightened on my shoulder, steady and unyielding. "Then you won't be. Even the brightest flame begins as a fragile spark, Lailac. Yours will burn. I swear it."
His words were a lifeline. I clung to them, even as part of me feared he was wrong.
---
That night, I tried again.
Alone, in the quiet of Father's quarters, I sat before another beast core. My guard had been dismissed; Father was away in the manor, leaving me with only silence and moonlight.
I stared at the glowing core, my reflection faintly visible in its polished surface. Pale skin. Hollow eyes. A girl desperate to prove she was not nothing.
"Just once," I whispered to myself. "Just once, let me succeed."
I pressed my hands to it, closing my eyes, reaching deep.
The energy slid into me again, tantalizing, like sweet water touching parched lips. My body shivered as it wound its way through my veins, delicate and powerful all at once.
Yes. Please. Stay this time.
But the void inside me stirred. A hunger, invisible and merciless. The energy was swallowed whole. Not burned, not absorbed—consumed into nothingness.
The core shattered in my hands.
A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. I hurled the fragments across the chamber, the shards scattering like broken stars. My chest heaved, tears spilling freely now, hot and bitter.
"Why?" I gasped. "Why me?!"
The silence offered no answer. Only the hollow ache inside, as though the universe itself had turned its back on me.
---
I didn't sleep that night. I sat by the window until dawn, watching the first light bleed across the sky. Birds stirred in the trees, their songs bright, alive—mocking me with their vitality.
I pressed a hand to my chest, to the heart that beat with no strength.
Maybe Dinah and the others were right. Maybe I really was a curse, an endless drain, a waste of Father's love.
But still, even through the despair, a small ember flickered within me.
I hated my weakness.
I hated my failure.
But more than anything… I hated the thought of giving up.
And that hatred was all I had.