Page 98 of Veinblood
“No, they didn’t. Which is why you’re better than them.”
Behind me, the young soldier's breathing comes in ragged gasps. I turn my head.
“What is your name?”
“M-Matthis.”
“How old are you, Matthis?”
“Seventeen.”
A murmur runs through the crowd.Seventeen. Some of them will have children older than that.
“You have a choice, too. You can die here defending a system that has already seen your captain killed, or you can live to see what comes after the fall.”
His sword arm trembles. “I … I don’t understand.”
“Look around you. This is only just getting started. I don’t think the Authority is going to win here today. So, you can stand with them or you can choose differently.”
For a long moment, the only sounds are distant shouts and the crackle of flames. Then, slowly, Matthis lowers his arm. The blade drops from his fingers and clatters to the ground.
“I choose differently,” he whispers.
The people in the crowd look at each other, then to me.
“What do we do with him?”
“There will be others like him. Find them, make them see. It’s time to take Ashenvale back and return it to its rightful sovereign.”
Matthis is already pulling at the cloak that marks him as Authority, fumbling with the clasps in his haste to shed the uniform that almost got him killed. The second it falls from his shoulders, he kicks it away. “I know others who only joined the army to provide for their families. I’ll help get them.”
I step away from the crowd, leaving him to join them, my heart hammering. Smoke is rising from multiple directions. The uprising is growing, spreading exactly as planned. Everything inside me is screaming that the moment I’ve been waiting for is here. Hundreds of Veinbloods are hidden both inside and outside the city waiting for my signal.
This is it.
It’s time to call the storm.
But when I reach for the power, nothing happens.
Oh no.
I close my eyes, and search for the lightning that should be building in my chest, but there is only a faint pulse, weak and uncertain.
My hands shake as I try again, reaching deeper, pushing harder. Silver flight flickers across my hands. The power feels distant, muffled, as though something is blocking the connection between my will and the storm.
Panic rises, tightening my throat. Everyone is waiting for this signal. The entire revolution depends on me lighting up the sky. If I can’t do this, everyone will die.
I force myself to breathe, to think past the fear drying my mouth. My power responds to emotion—grief, rage,determination. It’s manifested through all of them. But standing here trying to force it, trying to make it appear through will alone … I’m fighting against its nature.
Your power responds to your emotional state. Learn to control one, and you’ll gain mastery over the other. Sacha’s voice fills my head, rich and smooth.
I take a deep breath. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. Just like he taught me.
The power is there, waiting. I haven’t lost it. I just need to reach it.
I think about what has been done to this city. What it must have cost Sacha to flee from it when the Authority took over. I wrap myself in my determination to see Sacha on the throne that was taken from him.
I try to shut out the noise going on around me and focus on the sound of my heart. As it steadies, I become aware of the mist stalker sliding over my skin, the static running through my veins. Instead of fighting against me, it’s coiled and waiting, ready for that moment of connection.
