Emerald Darkness Prequel Story, Part 4: Aerden

Welcome back!! This is Part 4 of my prequel stories leading up to the release of Emerald Darkness. OMG, I can’t believe it’s really coming out tomorrow! I’m so excited, you guys. Thank you for taking the time to read these prequel scenes. I really hope you’ve enjoyed them!!

If you’re behind, you can read the other parts here:

Part 1: Harper
Part 2: Jackson
Part 3: Lea

Today you get your first glimpse inside Aerden’s life.

Aerden

The stone was rough against my hand.

I ran my palm across its surface, wondering how something that felt so normal and so powerless could have held me captive for so many years. It was nothing more than rock and air. There was no trace of magic left inside. No evidence that this statue had once been a prison.

But I knew better.

I knew the darkness at the depth of this rock’s heart. I knew how cold it could be in the winter and how the stone expanded when the summer’s heat beat down on it. I knew its loneliness and worst of all, I knew its silence.

Being inside a witch’s body was horrible, but at least there was some link to the outside world. I couldn’t always see through her eyes, but I could hear her heart beating and her voice inside my head. I could feel whatever she was feeling, and as torturous as it was, I could at least feel my own power pulsing through her veins.

When the Prima died, I usually went inside the next female in the bloodline. As long as she was eighteen, a binding ritual was performed immediately, and I was sent to my new prison in her body. But when Harper’s mother, Claire, was killed, there was no one left to enter. I knew she’d had a child in secret and had her taken away, but no one else had known. Not until she died and the bloodline lived on.

They bound me inside this statue, all alone out here in the woods. The silence and the darkness had been unbearable at times, but then, like a miracle, I began to hear her. Nothing constant or strong, but every once in a while, I could hear the hum of Harper’s power. I’ll never forget the rush of fear and excitement when she cast her first spell at the age of four. I wanted to go to her and help her, but she was too far and still protected by the spell her mother had placed on her when she was born.

But she had been the only thing that kept me from giving up. It was the weirdest thing. I knew she would be my master someday, but I didn’t resent her or hate her for that. As long as she was alive, I was too. That was all that mattered during those dark days.

I ran my hand across the stone again and shook my head. I never thought I’d see the day when this statue had fallen to the ground and broken into pieces. I never thought I would be able to sit here, all alone, without anyone’s voice in my head. Freedom wasn’t even something I dared let myself dream of, and yet, here I was.

Harper had done that for me. Jackson. Lea. All of them had sacrificed so much to keep me safe and to set me free.

So why did I always end up back here, sitting by this lump of broken stone, feeling more alone than ever? More confused and hopeless than ever? What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be happy? Grateful? Something other than sad and completely lost.

A strange sound whirred through the air nearby, and I stood, scanning the tree-line. Lights flashed through the woods, and I smiled.

Lea was training again.

I shifted and moved through the shadows toward her, stopping just a few feet shy of where she stood. She removed her glowing arrows from the targets and went to study one of the ones she’d missed. She was always such a perfectionist, pushing herself to the absolute limit and still being disappointed when she missed the tiniest thing.

I shook my head and felt the warm flush of… something… crawl up my neck. I pushed against it, almost wanting to go back to the statue and wallow in my sorrow for a little while longer. But no matter how hard I resisted, I couldn’t deny how much I wanted to be with her. Every step, every movement drew me in, making me wish–

No. I let my eyes drop to the ground. Pine-straw covered the forest floor, and I nudged it with my shoe. There was no use wishing for a different past. No use wishing for someone when it simply wasn’t meant to be.

For more than a hundred years, I’d known she could never be mine. And yet, as I stepped out from behind the tree and made my way toward her, I couldn’t completely kill the hope that flashed inside my heart and lit the way through the darkness.

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