Nyxara
He lowered his hands, the diagram shifting into a series of scenes—meeting a District Leader, negotiating with regional envoys, receiving petitions from smaller families. These were possible scenarios I might encounter in either of my roles. I made a note about which scenarios may overlap between the two roles.
"Your presence can change the room," he told me, "so you must be able to discern quickly which role and rules will help you accomplish whatever your goal is for being in that room effectively." His aura pressed again—sharper this time. My pulse skipped, but I steadied myself. It was not easy, but I didn't flinch. "Good," he murmured as if he wasn't teaching me two lessons at the same time. "Keep control. Stay steady. Your aura and system are very malleable right now. Structure them in a way that works best for you. In time, this will all become automatic for you."
The glow of quiet pride in his expression made my chest feel warm. When the diagram dissolved and his aura eased back, I melted into the chair with a soft sigh.
"You held up well," he said, leaning back. "You are recovering faster than expected." I blushed, causing his proud smile to widen. "I'm trying," I replied. "So far, today has been only as tiring as the first day of my home recovery."
"Appreciate the easier days. The harder ones will happen." His eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "Which is why we push you in waves. Your body will tell us when it's too much." We shifted into lighter conversation—my progress with Nimra's lessons, Zenaida's teaching style, Keir and Lux's training, and what I've been up to in my music room.
It felt…good to be cared for by a parental figure. After so long without an adult showing—in both action and word—how much he cares, I finally feel like I have stable support. It makes the trust I've given feel rewarded.
"Korran," I said hesitantly, fingers hooking around the arm of the chair. "I want to make a request." His brows lifted, amused, the corners of his mouth shifted into a half-smile. "I doubt there is anything I wouldn't grant you, and if I didn't, your Azrail would certainly go behind my back to get it for you. Go on."
"Well, I was thinking about how everyone's auras yesterday helped me. Especially yours and Azrail's." I looked down at my hands. "Your auras really helped with the aches and the essence pressure. And the recordings Aspen gave me helped too, so…"
"You want something that will help you be prepared for those bad days when we may not be able to immediately come to your aid," Korran finished for me. "Something you can reach for when you need to be stabilized quickly." I nodded.
He considered me for a long moment—long enough that I wondered if I'd overstepped. "I can craft a talisman embedded with our auras in it," he said. "It won't have the full effect, but it will help with pain, anxiety, and system spasms." My breath hitched in relief. "Really?"
"Yes," he said simply. "I'll have it for you tonight. Tomorrow at the latest." The warmth that further bloomed in my chest was almost enough to make me dizzy. "Thank you," I whispered. His gaze grew gentle—loving and comforting. "Always, Little Queen."
Davina
—Same Day: Nyxara's Library—
The sigil chalk snapped between my fingers.
Not because I pressed too hard, but because my daughter—my fragile yet so strong, half-reborn daughter—was staring at me with a look that could cut through bone. She is being unusually quiet. Her presence is too still. Like a hunter waiting.
Her smoked sandalwood and bitter black tea scent gave the impression of intense pressure simmering under restraint. The readings I just received say she is tipping into a spiral. I guess I better brace for impact. I did one more check of Little One's status readings from my wristwatch before dropping the chalk pieces into the chalk bag.
Before I could even try to mitigate the incoming storm, she spoke first. "I can't do this anymore." The words weren't loud. But they struck like a ward-shattering blow. My voice, when it came, was steady but cautious. "What is it you cannot do, Little One?" I clasped my hands together to hide their shaking. I could already sense this had been brewing, and the broken Velintra was just fuel to the fire.
Nyx slowly stood up with her hands curled into the sleeves of her long, knitted jacket. Her scent shifted with determination—refined sandalwood and bold black tea. Why does this feel like a confrontation?
"This." Her chin lifted. "This cold-warm-switching thing you do. One minute you're warm. The next you're a glacier. I never know which version I'm going to get. I can't even feel you when you go cold. Why? Tell me!"
Ah. So we are going to go here today. A knot loosened under my sternum—fear, yes, but relief too. I had waited for this question. Dreaded her asking yet needing her to ask. This is going to be either a rough or easy talk. I'm hoping for easy understanding. I quickly notified Aspen to be on standby before addressing my youngest.
"It is because…"
"No." She cut me off. "If you are about to give me some half-assed answer, don't. I won't break. If you're going to keep judging me, I at least deserve to hear how I am failing to meet expectations. So say it directly."
Despite hearing from the others about her spirals, I didn't realize how triggering they could be. It is like reliving the moments of the past years. The sharpness of her tone and the accusations are the same. Even knowing the Velintra then and now is fueling her darker thoughts and feelings, it doesn't change that in the moment—this shit hurts.
Her next words hit like a mallet to my kneecaps. "You'd rather distance yourself," she said quietly, "than admit I'm not the daughter you expected." For a moment, my world was white noise, and I forgot how to inhale. I had to anchor myself in my Velari bond with my mates to keep myself from compounding this increasingly out-of-control situation with my own spiral. Did this little girl just…oh, she better be happy I have self-discipline otherwise…I would invite her to meet me in the ring.
I was warring with every maternal instinct, both nurturing and disciplinary, I possessed. I wanted to give her a tight hug, then turn that hug into a suplex. But I would not lose control because of her loose mouth. Keep it together, Davi. You can take this out on one of the boys later. It has been a while since you did a random skill check anyway.
Gently—carefully—I reached for her hand. "Nyxara," I said, my voice trembling despite my attempts, "I have never judged you. I'm suppressing myself because while we are using essence, I could damage you."
Her eyes widened—anger cracking into confusion. So I continued. "My bloodline forms a maternal link… stronger than any other typical Tharym bond. It shapes essence systems. It can guide growth." I swallowed, "and overwhelm the fragile." Nyx's expression rippled in contemplation.
Silence fell. Then I felt it—the pressure of her emotions spiking on the other side of our bond. She is slipping. The Velintra twisting her perception into something painful and sharp. "You think I'm weak." Her voice wasn't raised. But her tone was apathetic, and that made it worse.
Before I could comfort her, she pushed with the wave of her built-up essence through the suppressed matriarchal bond. My breath caught. She pushed again with a cry. Our scents were flooding the room and I was becoming dizzy trying not to become overwhelmed from the multi-directional assault. "Nyx, don't push…" She pushed hard again; I tried to hold the bond closed, but I reacted too late, and I was not expecting this level of strength. When did she get so strong?
Our bond violently snapped and pulled between us, her essence latching onto mine like a drowning thing grabbing a lifeline. My aura flared instinctively, thinking her essence was an intruder to be eliminated. Her veins lit up silver, pale blush rose, then hazy lavender—bright beneath her skin. Wide eyes. Her breath hitched—once, twice. I cast an anchoring glyph before I turned my focus on untangling us before she was beyond my help.
Nyxara
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Intrusive thoughts are a bitch when they are sneaky and don't feel intrusive. Note to self: don't yank on do-not-disturb bonds. My instincts are rightfully indicating I fucked up…again. I have got to get this temper and these emotions under control. Really going to need that other therapist soon; gotta talk this shit out.
The connection when it pulled hit like a star exploding inside my skull. One heartbeat: I was angry, spiraling, words slipping out sharp and cold. The next—I saw her. Oh, do I see her. Nimra's essence system wasn't comprehensible to me. It was a cathedral. It was a structure of absolute beauty. Even as I felt my essence system begin to rearrange itself, I was in awe of my mother's inner beauty.
Columns of light braided through sigils and glyphs, currents flowing like constellations mapping a universe I could barely perceive. Warmth. Order. A soul sharpened into divine geometry.
My system lurched violently, recognizing instantly what it lacked: alignment of soul and body. This is what healthy looks like. We are not healthy. Not yet. But I could be. I could be if I take the blueprint before me and make it my own.
The pain was blinding—white-hot lightning up my spine, as my primary, secondary, tertiary cores pulled and moved essence veins into Nimra's configuration. I was frozen, unable to stop this forceful alignment. I'm going to be even more damaged from this mistake. Maybe this is what I deserve for wanting to be with them again.
"No, no, no—" Nimra gasped somewhere far away. Something was trying to surround me, but it kept flinching. I think that is Nimra. What is she trying to do? Her aura wrapped around me, not pushing me away—shielding me from myself. She squeezed the bond until I couldn't feel her at all again.
I screamed myself hoarse when all my senses came back online, but I couldn't feel Nimra anymore. Did she just… pull me out of her…system, but is she okay? What have I done? I sobbed, thinking Nimra was badly injured or lying dead nearby because I couldn't control myself. I curled up on my side, trembling, breath broken on sobs.
I don't know if I blacked out or was teleported, but I recognized that I was no longer on the floor but lying on my bed. Did Líma move me? My aura continued to flicker uncontrollably, glowing veins lit up beneath my skin. Hands cupped my face. Warm. Shaking. Eucalyptus, lavender, and that something hidden filled my nose. Nimra. Her forehead touched mine, breaths ragged as if she had run for miles.
"I'm here," she whispered. "I'm here, Little One. Breathe with me. With each breath, I'll re-open the bond." I did. I breathed. Slowly. Painfully. Sobs turned into shivers. Shivers into stillness. When I could finally speak, my voice was a scraped whisper.
"Your system… it's beautiful," I croaked. "My system liked yours so much that it was trying to imitate it." She exhaled shakily. We lay there breathing each other in. My hands cupped her face, anchoring myself.
"That is one of the aspects of our bloodline matriarchal bond. When a female begins cultivating, she uses her mother's system to get a boost in the areas they share. Previously, you had pulled away, which thinned our connection. I would guess that because our bond naturally would want us to be close, especially at this stage in your cultivation, that in the confusion of the bond fully connecting; the desire for alignment from your system and the nature of the bond from my side caused your system to pull out of your control. Your system wants to survive and thrive just like you do."
I swallowed hard. She brushed a tear from my cheek with her thumb. A wish I had been quietly nurturing since the night I lost my family on Earth was playing out at this very moment. If I could have my mom comfort me unconditionally one more time…"I understand," I whispered. "Why you pull away. Why you have to until I'm completely stabilized." Her answering laugh was soft and exhausted.
"And you can feel why I hate doing it. I do not like being disconnected from you, little one." I leaned into her palms. Too tired to move. Too raw to fake stability. "Nimra always knows best," I murmured. She simply pulled me into her arms, and I let myself fold. Exhausted. Tender. Held.