Page 193 of Emylia

“Sounds like this is going to be easy, huh,” Sebastian muttered from my left, repositioning himself against a stone pillar like he had no intention of participating—but every intention of scrutinizing my every move.

His shirt was half-unbuttoned, like he was allergic to proper attire. And truthfully, it suited him.

“Try not to cause an earthquake or split the earth open and swallow us.” Sebastian added with a roguish smile.

I didn’t dignify him with a response. Not when my pulse was already thundering too loud.

Maalikai stood on the opposite side, silent. Focused. Unreadable.

Great. Two halves of my heart. One task.

No pressure.

“Take your shoes off, so you can feel it. The dirt between your toes, the power that resides within.”

Without a word I sat down, discarding my boots, before standing to my full height. Taking a deep breath, I took a step forward.

There was nothing at first. No pull of power, no shudder of awareness. I took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of dirt on my feet.

It was cool, and soft. I wiggled my toes, dirt sinking between them, fully coating them with earth. Then the smell hit me. Deep, ancient. The smell of power, of magik that only resided in the depths of the ground–power grown in roots and bones.

A pulse shuddered through me, as if the earth welcomed me. It yielded beneath my weight—soft and rich, humming beneath my feet like a heartbeat under stone.

“Breathe in,” my mother whispered. “Let the stillness in.”

I closed my eyes. Reached inward. Felt the familiar unfurling of power.

Earth didn’t hum like water. It waited. Patient. Expectant.

But there was weight to it. A heaviness. A judgment. Like it had seen my rage, my fire, my grief—and it was deciding whether I was worthy to harness it.

I didn’t blame it.

I wasn’t sure if I would deem myself worthy either.

I gritted my teeth and pushed deeper. My fingers curled around the power, commanding it. And slowly—so slowly—small pebbles began to tremble.

The ground vibrated beneath my feet, not with fury, but with recognition. The earth cracked open, a jagged split in the soil in front of me. Nothing large or spectacular, but it was enough. Small shoots of green pierced the surface in fast, explosive bursts. Vines unfurled from nowhere, coiling in rhythm with my breath.

I gasped. Surprised by how the power had manifested. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting, but this hadn’t been it.

The brief loss of concentration was enough to lose a grasp on the power. The vines began to sway, not in the breeze, but of their own volition, growing wild.

“You are in control. Not the other way around. Prove it.” My mother’s voice cut through the chaos–steady, unwavering. She stepped closer, placing a firm hand over mine, grounding me.

“Breathe. Feel it. Don’t let it own you.” Her eyes searched mine, not with fear–but fierce belief.

“Now show me.”

I could do this. I knew I could.

I focused on the feeling inside—on the silvery, shimmering thread that linked me to the earth. I honed in on it. The pull. The feel of it. I mentally grasped it and felt it shudder, but it didn’t fracture.

“Good. Now push a little further.”

“You’ve got this!” Sebastian cheered from the distance.

I drowned him out, focusing on the thread.

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