Page 21 of Where Darkness Falls

I really hope they are real.

Amelia taught me this exercise years ago when I first arrived in their home and the nightmares made their first appearance:

Amelia is busy rushing around the kitchen, making breakfast before the family wakes up.

She pours piping hot coffee into a tankard, stirring in two sugar cubes and a splash of cow’s milk. She crosses the kitchen, placing it in my hands.

“It felt so real,” I whimper, sipping the warm liquid.

“Dreams are nothing more than a combination of your imagination, and what you ate for dinner the night before,”Amelia coos.“You simply have to wake up, and they’ll plague you no more. You like the stars, don’t you?”

I nod.

“Well, look at the stars next time you wake from a nightmare,”she replies.“Have you ever noticed how they shine at night, illuminating the darkness?”

I nod again.

“They’re a reminder to us that the darkness can never fully snuff out the light. When the torments in your mind take over, find the spark within you,”she says, placing a hand over my heart.“The nightmares aren’t real, Darling Flower. Whenever they feel too real or too much, remind yourself of what’s real. Look to the stars. The dreams might take your mind to dark places, but they can never steal the illumination of your soul.”

I crawl back through the window of my darkened room. It’s small, but cozy with wool blankets and different sketchesof flowers that Deidre drew for me. My bed rests on the left side of the wall, and right now, it beckons for me to come closer. My exhausted body and mind do not protest as I fall into its warm embrace.

As I drift off to sleep, I think of that day with Amelia all those years ago. I don’t think I will ever have the words to thank Amelia for her motherly wisdom. She’s been a steady voice of guidance for me over the years. She’s never belittled me or made me feel as if my fears were witless. When I look at the stars, I will always remember her and the valuable lesson that she taught me:

The darkness might be vast, but it will never fully extinguish the light.

After last week’s dresscapade,I decided to pick out one of my finer dresses from within the armoire instead of purchasing a new one. The dress is a soft, dusty blue—the color I imagine the sky to be were it not for the never-ending gray. The corset bodice is a slightly deeper shade of dusty blue with elegant embroidered gold flowers that appear to dance across the fabric. Layered over my simple white, smocked off-the-shoulder blouse, I’d say it is rather striking. Though it’s simple, I’ve always found this one to be the most beautiful in my possession.

Once I’m fully dressed, I pin a small section of my golden-strawberry waves behind my ear. My hair is quite a unique thing as it’s neither wavy nor curly. It tends to have a mind of its own. Turning toward the mirror standing on the opposite side of the room, I rotate my head to seeif anything new has popped up over the last eight hours. I sigh, finding my neck is still bare and signet-less.

I had only the smallest hope that it’d manifest today, but I haven’t experienced even a shiver of power course through me. Siorai must have quite a laugh over the little Null praying for an ability. It must be so comical to him. Otherwise, why would he continuously torment me? Most Malvorians maintain a deep reverence for the Silent God, but I’ve been devout to Siorai to a fault. I’ve followed his ordinances, believing that everything in our lives has a purpose.

However, I’ve been having doubts as of late, especially when I can hear the treacherous howls of the creatures in the evening. How could Siorai, who loves his creation, allow such wickedness into his beloved realm? It’s as if he’s turned a blind eye to the deviations that King Tiernan has created. There’s even talk of the king desiring to spread the Drakhul to the furthest reaches of Celestae—total domination.

Yet, where is our beloved Siorai?

He’s not here as we’ve descended into the vileness of the curse.

“All it takes is one star to shine bright to make a difference in the darkness.”Amelia’s words of wisdom echo in my mind.

They are so simple, yet could any truth be found in them? I desperately want to believe there’s still goodness in this realm, hidden beneath evil. I hope there’s a purpose in this existence beyond whether or not I have an ability. Even if Siorai never blesses my life with anything more than what I already have, I’ll do my best to overcome the darkness that’s become restless within me. I desire to make a difference. If the only way I can do so is through my work at The Violet Lily Shop, then so be it.

I stare for another moment longer into my ocean-blue eyes. My golden pendant catches the light as it remains in the same place it’s always been. I clutch it, holding it tight against my chest as if it were my lifeline. The amnesia might’ve taken my former memories, but it cannot have my future. The nightmares may rob me of sleep, but it’ll never truly steal my rest under the stars. The darkness might overwhelm me, but it’ll never be strong enough to extinguish my glow. For this one moment,I allow a single tear to leave a trail down my face as I grieve all that the woman before me has lost.

Her memories.

Her past.

Her desires.

Once the tear is gone, I lightly pat my eyes and put on my warmest smile.

Instead of wallowing in pity, I’m going to pursue love, make a home for myself, and continue to run the shop with Cara until the end of our days. I’ll help the twins, Aidan and Cillian, in all of their grand adventures, as well as the younger children in whatever endeavors they wish to pursue. I’ll be there to care for Rolph and Amelia when the end of their long days draws near, and death comes to carry them to Eternity. I’m going to laugh more than I cry, and forgive more than I hold onto resentment or anger. I’m going tolive.

Which is why I won’t sulk this entire evening over the things I don’t possess. Knowing Cara, she went out of her way to make sure her friends are welcoming tonight, so I intend to be kind as well. This is the first time I’m meeting the friends she’s become acquainted with over the last year during her weekly night out at the tavern. She’s invited me to come once or twice before, but I’ve always declined. Where I find enjoyment in my solitude and books, she’s always relished the company of others.

In our formative years, she was friendly with all manners of people, and they adored her. Then there I was—the uncouth adopted sister that was more interested in trying to explain the plot of my favorite book than tabulate a list of which boys were the most appealing. It isn’t that I didn’ttryto be friendly or inviting. Perhaps whenever I’d talk, I was too brazen or brash, maybe too opinionated. Either way, my dearest friendships were the characters someone else created, while Cara made real connections and relationships.

So, as terrifying as this night is for me, I’m going to be brave for my sister. Besides, the extra company will take my mind off the fact that I am, in all regards, a Null. With that in mind, I hastily step out into thehallway just as Cara emerges from her room. She’s pulled her auburn hair up into a braided bun, with a few tresses framing her face. She’s opted to wear a deep burgundy dress with silver embroidery detailing her bodice in shimmering swirls. Her shoes are silver flats that are quite simple, but add a level of elegance to her ensemble.

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