Fractured
Her magic, diminished as it was by the sacrifice, felt
hers again, infused not with the cold brilliance of absolute control, but with the gentle, guiding light of connection. It was a power that could share, that could nurture, that could build rather than conquer. The thought of ruling alone, of being a queen of a desolate realm, sent a shiver down her spine – not of longing, but of deep-seated revulsion. The silence of such a reign, the absence of shared laughter, of comforting touch, of quiet understanding, was a far more terrifying prospect than any dark reflection.
Bab Populer