Page 311 of Awakened

Flowers blossom along the branches, soft and pink, and smelling faintly of honey and sugar. The scent is intoxicating, and I take a deep breath and grin, basking in the scent of our salvation.

Branwen laughs. The sound is wild and full of joy. She throws her hands into the air, fingers reaching for branches that quiver with delight.

“You did it! Gods, Idril, you grew an entire tree! With fruit!”

My own laughter bubbles up my chest as my palms continue buzzing with warmth. My skin tingles as the petals fall one by one, each flower replaced with the velvety fuzz of ripening fruit hanging heavy from its branches. As each peach bursts into existence, the branches sag, weighed down by the harvest.

When the warmth in my palms fades, I reach a shaking hand toward the closest branch, and yelp when a perfect golden peach drops into my palm like an offering. It’s warm, beautifully ripe, and best of all—food.

Before I can make a conscious decision, I take a bite. The skin gives way as my teeth sink into its flesh. Flavor explodes on my tongue, sweet and tart and the best thing I’ve ever tasted. My taste buds tingle, and my mouth fills with juice. It drips down my chin, and I moan, eyes rolling back in my head.

I’ve only taken a single bite, but I’m already grabbing another and another, until my arms overflow with peaches.

“Oh, you beautiful Druid,” Branwen moans between bites. “This is extraordinary. I could die happy right here, I swear to the Fates.”

Wiping my chin with my sleeve, I laugh and take another bite. We don’t speak after that, too busy stuffing ourselves full until our stomachs hurt and we’re giggling like children.

“You grew a tree,” Branwen marvels, running her hands along the trunk once we’re both sufficiently full.

“Well… we won’t die, at least. If I’d been thinking straight, I would have done something hours ago. For Fates sake, one of the first things we found were jars of seeds.”

“So… variety then.”

“We can’t live off fruit forever,” I tell her, holding out my hands and grimacing at how sticky they are. Knowing I won’t be able to relax until I rinse off, I head back toward the main cavern.

“Speak for yourself. I certainly can, especially if they’re magically sourced. Probably packed full of vitamins and all sorts of enhancements.”

At the lake, I roll up my sleeves and dunk my hands into the water. It’s incredible how much better I feel already. My shaking has stopped, so has my dizziness. Best of all, my brain finally feels like it’s back online.

Plopping down at the water’s edge, I lean back and let out a satisfied sigh.

I did it. I actually did it. I still can’t believe I made an entire peach tree grow in this cave with nothing more than a seed and dirt, but somehow, I made it happen. An entire world of possibilities unfolds in my mind, making me giddy with excitement.

What else can I do that I haven’t even thought of? How can I use my powers to help my Mates? Can I take on my father eventually? Save the Omegas?

For the first time, I feel genuine hope for the future. I feel like I have control. A sense of agency. An ownership of my own destiny.

I know one thing for certain. If I want to do anything, I need to work harder. I need to become stronger. Not necessarily physically strong, but mentally and emotionally. Most importantly, I need to figure out my limitations. What’s possible? What isn’t?

That part will be the hardest. This isn’t one of my books. Unfortunately, it’d be really helpful if a wizened old man with a grumpy attitude and a soft spot for the heroine showed up and taught me how to use my powers.

I need answers. I need to know my limitations. If the water animals I make only last for ten seconds, how long will the peach tree last? What if we wake up tomorrow and it’s gone?

The thought of rotting, fermenting peaches makes my stomach roll.

I know a lot of these questions can be answered by trial and error, but that can be dangerous, too.

If there are two things books have taught me, it’s that every cause has an effect. By growing the peach tree, did I unknowingly kill another peach tree somewhere else in the world? What about when I call on the wind or fire? What’s the cost? Am I pulling that energy from myself? It would certainly explain the nosebleeds and exhaustion. If that’s the case, then why do I feel alright now? Growing an entire tree from nothing certainly takes more power than shooting a blast of fire at a Severed.

Which, of course, leads to the most important question.

Magic always comes with a cost. What’s mine?

I don’t know how long I stew, but eventually the pillar's pulsing glow pulls me out of my thoughts. It’s brighter now. More intense.

Branwen appears at my side, sits next to me, and scoots closer to the water. Her gaze lands on the pillar, and together we watch it pulse and thrum.

“What do you think is in there?”