Empath Gifts Novels & Stories

Not to mention that they were nothing compared to our fighters who were actual fighters. Dante and I were latching onto fears left and right. Apollo was using it to amplify his gift, thank you Imeela for teaching him to do that because it was effective but also kept him happy in regard to gifts. There were two other empaths who moved up to do the same thing as Apollo. So, there were five people playing with people’s creepy crawly fears.

I stared at him blankly. “What gift?” “The one you brought this morning before I almost died.” “You did not almost die.” “I fainted, Mom. That’s cinema.” I rubbed my forehead. “This child.” Then I reached for the carefully wrapped box I had placed near the shelf earlier. The final one day to six gift. Honestly, this particular gift mattered to me more than all the others. Inside were customized “Comfort Capsules.” Small memory boxes designed for emotional grounding. Inside each one were handwritten letters from me for difficult days.

--- Ember stayed. She did not learn the anchor ability quickly—her gift was not for holding, but for healing. She sat with the grieving, placed her hands on their shoulders, and the watcher's attention seemed to flow through her, warm and gentle. The witnesses who came to her left feeling lighter, as though a weight had been lifted. "She has a gift," Elara said one afternoon, watching Ember counsel a young woman who had lost her mother. Mira nodded. "The watcher recognized it in her. The ability to hold space for grief. The way Clara held space for Morwen. The way Winter held space for the graves."

Surprised? Try to imagine what it was like for me and my family when we found out that I was actually Gifted. It's rather difficult to explain, because my Gift isn't something obvious or tangible. Researchers told me it's like I am empathy incarnate: I have a sense for the emotional state of any living thing within a set area and I can exert my influence on them.

"Like what? Tell me everything. I need to know! What if I have one but I don’t even know? What if I’ve missed it all this time?" Greta almost smiles. "Gifts come from bloodlines, passed down through families. Some are common, some are rare, and some haven’t been seen in generations." Rina leans in. "What kinds?" "Empathy," Greta says, looking at Rina. "It’s the ability to feel other people's emotions as if they were your own. You can sense lies, fear, love, anger—sometimes even from a distance." Rina's mouth drops open. "Like when I know someone is sad even if they’re smiling? Like when I can tell Maya’s annoyed even when she’s not saying anything?"

Thane seemed deep in thought like he was processing all this. “What kind of gifts?” I opened my mouth, again a warning from my subconscious telling me to shut up. I tucked some of my hair behind my ear hearing Lyra’s kids in the distance laughing and screaming. “Well, it usually manifests as something the recipient already had innately in them. Someone who prides themselves in their strength could have it amplified. Someone who is really good at convincing people to do stuff could get compulsion and -“ “What gift did you give to Cameron?” Thane asked.

I know they will be extremely close their whole lives. We each have our own gifts, I am no different, and I wonder what Flame and my boys's gifts will be. My empathic gift is a powerful legacy, passed down through my family's bloodline. It allows me to sense emotions, deception, and changes in the atmosphere, heightened by physical contact With my babies, our bond is profound. I feel their joy, innocence and deep connection to each other. Their bond will indeed be unbreakable, strengthened by shared experiences. My sensitivity to evil presence is a unique aspect, warning me of potential threats. This intuition guides me in protecting loved ones.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── She carried it home wrapped in brown paper and sat with it on her bed for an hour, just looking at it. The problem with gestures, she'd learned from watching her mother, was that they only worked if they were true. A gift given out of guilt looked like guilt. A gift given out of pity looked like pity, and pity was the one thing Julian Thorne would hand back to you without opening it. This had to be given as what it actually was — not comfort, not an apology, not a bridge or an olive branch or any of the other things people called gestures when they wanted them to do too much work.

Make her feel loved and secure, especially now with the baby coming. I moved toward my desk, my thoughts swirling around what I could do. A piece of jewelry seemed like a nice idea—a small reminder of how much she meant to me, something to make her smile. But I knew that wasn’t enough. No gift, no matter how expensive or beautiful, could replace the real work I needed to put in. I needed to be there, fully present, even when my work pulled me in a million directions. Emily needed me. But just as I was about to sit down, I noticed a box on my desk. My eyes narrowed, and my chest tightened immediately. There it was again. Another gift from Ellen.

"You’re imagining things." "I'm not," Freddo insisted, his genius brain connecting dots I tried to hide. "He has my nose. He has my eyes. Even the way he stands. The probability of two unrelated humans sharing such identical phenotypic traits is less than—" "Freddo," I cut him off, kneeling in front of him and taking his hands. "People resemble each other without any blood relation. It happens all the time. It’s called a doppelgänger. It’s just a coincidence."