Chapter 218: Take me with you

Azura’s POV

I opened my eyes.

There was no rock against the back of my skull, and the sharp, throbbing pain at my temple had completely vanished.

I was no longer in an isolated environment. Instead, a thick, white fog surrounded me, stretching out in every direction.

It was a heavy, quiet mist that seemed to swallow all sound, the kind of fog that only belonged in deep, forgotten dreams.

It felt like walking through a cloud that had descended to coat the ground, damp and perfectly still.

I was lying on my side. Slowly, I pushed myself up, my palms pressing against a cold, smooth surface beneath the mist.

I looked around, straining my eyes to find a landmark, a tree, or even the boundary wall of the domain. Nothing.

There was only the endless, quiet white.

I bent my head, my shoulders slumping as the memories of the betrayal rushed back.

The image of Rhydor’s cold, red eyes, the sound of Isadora’s mocking laughter, and the feel of her claws tearing into my flesh replayed in my mind like a recurring nightmare.

Tears slipped from my eyelashes, dripping through the fog and onto the floor.

I tightened my fists against the ground, my fingernails scraping the cold surface.

I tried to calm my racing heart. I told myself to take a deep, slow breath, to pull myself together like I always did when things went wrong.

It was useless. The tears just kept coming, hot and fast, washing over the dirt on my cheeks.

What I had witnessed inside that barrier was simply too much to bear. It was too cruel, too precise in how it targeted the deepest insecurities of my heart.

I finally broke down, curling my knees to my chest as a quiet sob tore from my throat.

What have I done so wrong? I thought, my chest aching with a hollow, suffocating weight.

Why am I always built this way? Why must every path I walk turn into a road of thorns?

A faint rustle in the fog broke the silence.

I lifted my head, my eyes blurry as I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

A figure was walking toward me through the white mist. She wore a simple, flowing white gown that seemed to blend perfectly with the surrounding fog.

As she drew closer, my breath caught in my chest. It was the lady in white.

She was the one who had haunted my dreams for as long as I could remember, the silent spirit who always kept her distance and faded away into the shadows whenever I tried to reach out to her.

She was the woman who carried the same silver-white hair that grew from my own scalp.

I remembered everything now. Even after waking from those past visions, I had never truly understood the depth of our connection. She had my mother’s type of hair, but I had never been close to identifying her.

I had never known she was indeed my mother. But looking at her now, with the fog parting around her like a loyal subject, everything suddenly made perfect sense.

She didn’t run this time. She didn’t fade back into the mist.

She kept walking until she was standing directly in front of me. Her pale grey eyes were incredibly warm, filled with a deep, maternal love that made the coldness of what I witnessed begin to melt away.

She slowly squatted down, bringing herself to my eye level.

"Mother?" I whispered, my voice barely a squeak.

She offered me a soft, beautiful smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You are all grown up, my beautiful bady," she murmured, her voice sounding like a gentle lullaby. "I never truly believed that I would be standing here to witness this day."

"Is it truly you?" I asked, my voice cracking as fresh tears blurred her face. "Is it really you, Mother?"

She reached out, her hand moving through the cool air. Her palm pressed gently against my cheek. Her skin was incredibly warm, solid, and entirely real.

"It is me," Helen said softly, her fingers brushing away a tear. "It is Mother, Azura."

I didn’t hesitate. I threw my upper body forward, burying my face into her shoulder as I wrapped my arms tightly around her neck.

I held onto her as if she were the only anchor left in a crumbling world, completely breaking down into loud, ragged sobs.

"Mother, please," I sobbed into her neck, my fingers clenching the fabric of her white gown. "Just take me with you. I do not want to stay here anymore. Please."

She slowly pulled back, her hands resting gently on my shoulders as she forced me to look at her.

Her grey eyes searched mine with a tender, questioning sorrow.

"Why do you not want to stay, my girl?" she asked quietly.

"I tried," I said, my voice shaking violently as I gestured to the space around us.

"I really tried to make things right. But everyone is just so incredibly cruel. There is nothing good left in this world for me."

"I just want to leave. I do not want to fight this battle anymore. Please, Mother. Just take me with you into the quiet side."

Mother shook her head slowly, her touch remaining firm.

"But what if it is simply not your time yet?"

"There is no such thing as the right time," I said, shaking my head frantically as I looked at her.

"That rule does not apply to this world anymore. Anyone can be taken at any second. So please, just let me quit my story here. I do not know what to do anymore. I cannot stop them from hurting me. I cannot."

"Are you sure of that, Azura?" My mother asked, her voice turning remarkably firm.

I looked up, meeting her gaze. ℯ

She raised her hand, her fingers gently sweeping through my tangled, silver-white streak hair.

She smoothed the messy strands with an easy, practiced grace, tucking them behind my ears so my face was completely clear.

She used the hem of her sleeve to gently wipe away the dried blood and dirt that had coated my cheeks from the battle outside.

"Look at me, my beautiful daughter," Helen said, her voice dropping into a powerful, anchoring register.

She cupped both sides of my face, forcing me to lock onto her pale grey eyes.

"You aren’t actually fighting them," she said, her words carrying a strange, vibrating authority.

"The enemy is a coward, Azura. It takes the faces of the very people who make you feel safe, and it uses your own massive capacity for love as a weapon to destroy you."

"It desperately wants you to believe that your love makes you weak."

She leaned in closer, her movement gentle as she pressed her forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, absorbing the incredible warmth radiating from her skin.

"But your love is not your weakness," she whispered.

"It is your anchor. You have spent your entire life running and fighting to survive in a brutal, unforgiving world, yet your heart never once turned to stone."

"You survived because you protect. You love fiercely, without any conditions, even when it costs you everything."

She pulled back just enough so our eyes could meet again, her expression serious and unyielding.

"That is the true bloodline of the Sovereign," Helen declared.

"We do not destroy our enemies out of hatred. We conquer them to protect the innocent."

She caressed my cheek one last time, her voice rising with an urgent, driving force.

"Open your eyes to the actual truth, Azura. The girl standing before you in that domain is not your enemy.

"She is a child drowning in a deep, dark ocean, waiting for a leader brave enough to dive in and pull her back to the surface."

"Stop looking at the phantoms of your past. Let them see who you truly are."

She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at me with a profound, lingering regret.

"Remember, I was never able to unlock my own true potential," Helen said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"There are so many miraculous things our bloodline can do that we do not yet understand. I simply did not have enough time on this earth to discover them all."

"But I do not want you to make that same mistake. You know what you are. You know who you are, Azura. Use your power. And do not hold back a single ounce of it."

My eyes snapped open.

A sudden, violent gasp tore from my chest as the cold, stale air of the empty place rushed back into my lungs.

I was back. The white fog was gone, replaced by the suffocating gray dust of the isolated domain.

Isadora and Amanda were still standing just a few yards in front of me, their arms crossed as they looked down at me.

They both carried wide, satisfied smirks on their faces, looking as if they had already secured their final victory.

I slowly pushed myself up off the cold ground, my muscles tensing as I rose to my full height.

Isadora’s smirk instantly faltered, her brow furrowing in deep confusion as she watched me stand.

"How is she back on her feet?" Isadora asked, her voice turning sharp and irritated.

Amanda didn’t even look at her, her features freezing into a cold, murderous glare as she kept her eyes locked on me.

"Stop asking such stupid questions," she spat. "Just end her now."

Isadora’s cruel smile slowly returned, a savage light entering her eyes. She took a step back, and a sickening series of wet, cracking sounds echoed through the space as her bones began to break and reform.

Within seconds, her human skin dissolved, and she shifted into her powerful, rosette-patterned wolf form, her claws digging into the invisible floor.

She let out a low, guttural growl and dashed directly toward me, her massive form blurring with supernatural speed.

But as she ran, everything around me suddenly began to move in extreme slow motion.

I could see the individual pieces of gray dust hanging suspended in the air. I could see the slow, rhythmic ripple of Isadora’s fur as she moved.

My mind was clear, the heavy haze of grief and doubt entirely gone.

I stretched my right hand out to the side, my fingers opening wide.

My silver bangle hummed against my wrist, and with a bright flash of light, my ring blade materialized, separating into two distinct metallic circles floating above my palm.

I didn’t fling them forward this time. Instead, I reached out and caught them, bringing the two pieces together in a sharp, deliberate motion.

The moment the metals touched, they merged seamlessly, transforming into a completely new weapon.

It was my mother’s weapon. A beautifully balanced, spinning dual blade that hummed with a fierce, crackling energy.

I spun the weapon once, the metallic ring slicing through the quiet air. I spun it twice, then three times, the momentum building until it was a blur of silver light in my hand.

By the fourth rotation, the muscle memory of my bloodline took over, the weapon moving as if it were a natural extension of my own arm.

I planted my boots firmly on the ground, my eyes locking onto the oncoming wolf.

"I would really like to see you attempt to defeat me this time," I said, my voice steady, calm.