The Whole Language The Power Of Extravagant Tenderness Novels & Stories

He anxiously rubbed his brow, "Cami, you two aren't the same. She's too pure and innocent—she's no match for you." The word "pure" stung me. Distant yet deeply carved memories came flooding back, making my heart ache. So, it was purity that he liked after all.

There were new vistas to explore without heavy gloom dragging back from unkind quarries. I would emerge wings spread if only to spite their dire proclamations of lame flight. Lawrence's arm slipped round my waist, breath warm at my ear. "Petty words flowing from petty spirits are too dull to perceive rare brilliance even as it burns blinding before their faces. Think nothing of it." His matter of fact dismissal bubbled relieved laughter past my lips. No crack or defect existed which this man would not trace with utmost care before sealing back to wholeness under his sheltering devotion.

Back in my apartment that night, I lit one of the candles Zoe had given me as a joke gift—a lavender-scented tin labeled Burn This When You Need Courage—and let it flicker near the edge of my desk. I opened my journal. Then I opened the latest letter. Dear L, I wonder if you know what you’re made of. Not the lists on your resume, or the titles beside your name. But the quiet strength. The elegant ache. The poetry of someone who’s rebuilt herself piece by piece and still manages to create beauty. I watched the world pass over me for a long time until I found your words. They made me stop. They made me stay. Congratulations. Even if you don’t say it out loud, I will.

I wipe my tear with a finger. My mate is such a child; he can be protective, a playful pup, romantic in the wrong place, fearful, and emotional in a day. The rest of my life will never be boring. I saw Acro walking around the two and when she stretched her neck to squint at me, I lifted my thumb. What's more powerful than magic is words—a power that can soften the corrupted heart. Later on, one of the spellbooks levitates and the pages flip on their own.

We just gave her the language. The behavior first. The understanding second. Like the bowl. Like everything that lasts.

"Words are human. The watcher is not human. It is finding its own language." "What does its language sound like?" The Archivist was quiet for a moment. Then: "Like light. Like warmth. Like the feeling of being seen by someone who cares." Clara thought about this. About the way Morwen looked at her. About the way Seren's letters made her feel. About the way the flowers pulsed when she sat among them. "The watcher is learning to love," Clara said. "That's its language." The Archivist nodded. "Yes. I think it is."

My eyes narrowed, and I shuddered as I felt my powers surge within me. "Fucking quiet!" I bellowed, and the crowd stilled. Flames of fire flickered around me, and I heard a soft gasp and others moving away from me as I walked forwards. 'The power of language!' Flora screeched. 'Use it, Winter. Use the power!' I didn't know how to bring forth the power of language, but I did the first thing in my mind. I snarled, "Hunters, fall out!"

The ancient tongue of all shadow walkers crackles around me, visible to my special sight as embers of purple flame edging words so black they absorb all the surrounding light. Watching them float around me in the mirror, they don't behave the way I expect language to behave when I'm looking at their color and shape. Usually, language just falls around us, fading into silence. Instead, these words move upward to settle into my marks, a warm tingle spreading across my flesh as I feel the rush of energy that brightens my crown from within.

Accept that life will not always be easy, nor will it always be difficult, and live the best way you can in all its immensity. It takes a lot of courage to allow yourself to be whole. It takes a lot of strength to understand that there is no problem in letting people into your life, that people share your feelings, that being whole is a sign of strength and not weakness. Only whole people can love with all their hearts, only whole people can allow other people into their lives and make their hearts a home for good things. Allow yourself to be an enlightened person, full of good things around you. Have the courage to love everything you have and have the courage to let that love return to you

1 Warning: This chapter contains powerful language and torture. Please read it at your own risk. Lana's POV I wonder those people who can absolutely get everything they utter, from a castle of chocolates to showers in golds, like the world is just for them; made for them, served to them. People are their slaves; women their properties, men their defenders. They care about no one, just all themselves and their thirst for more and more. The hunger of power never ends for them, it keeps growing and ultimately leads towards the destruction of mankind.