NOVEL WEB Chapter 17: Ch 16
Chapter 16: Trial of Self
The air around Tara thickened, heavy with a strange, almost suffocating presence. The world around her shimmered, stretching and folding like the fabric of a dream. She blinked, but the landscape didn't shift. It was a void—a space devoid of light, sound, or color, except for the silhouette of herself standing in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat. The other figure was her, but there was something unsettlingly different about it.
"Welcome, Tara," the other Tara said, her voice a perfect mirror of her own, but colder, more controlled.
The landscape warped again, and Tara found herself standing on a battlefield. The ground beneath her feet cracked and split open as the sky overhead churned with swirling storm clouds. The figures around her became distorted, reflections of herself—each version of Tara representing a different facet of her personality.
One version of Tara was calm and composed, a master of control, her eyes sharp and calculating. Another was wild, filled with a fierce, uncontrollable power, her form radiating fire and chaos. There were others—Tara as a child, Tara as a failure, Tara as someone who had given up. The versions of herself surrounded her, each one glaring at her with eyes filled with judgment.
"You've come to face me," the fake Tara mocked, her gaze filled with disdain. "You're nothing but a failure. Look at you, weak and powerless."
Tara's heart pounded in her chest. This isn't real. This isn't me.
"You're wrong," Tara said, trying to steady her breath, her voice firm, though fear gripped her. "I'm not weak. I've come this far."
The fake Tara's smile twisted into something cruel. "You think you've made it this far because of your strength? No, Tara. You're not strong. You're running from yourself. All of this—your mission, your uncle, your journey—it's all just a distraction."
The words cut deep, but Tara refused to let them take root. She squared her shoulders, summoning her powers. She focused on the wind, commanding it to swirl around her, but the fake Tara was already a step ahead. With a flick of her wrist, the air twisted and solidified into sharp blades of ice, which shot toward Tara with lightning speed.
She barely managed to dodge, the icy blades grazing her side. She could feel the sting, the cold biting into her skin, but she didn't have time to react. The fake Tara was relentless, creating pillars of fire that erupted around her, the heat suffocating. Tara's instincts screamed at her to run, but she stood her ground, summoning the wind to deflect the flames.
"You're nothing," the fake Tara taunted, her eyes glowing with an unnatural power. "You think you can defeat me with your weak, limited powers? You can't even control them properly."
Tara's breath came in ragged gasps. She could feel herself slipping, her confidence faltering. She's right. I'm not strong enough. I can't defeat her. I can't even control my own powers like she can.
The fake Tara smirked, reading her thoughts. "You've always been afraid of your own power. Afraid of what you might become. You've spent your life trying to hide from who you really are. But look at you now. All of your fears, all your doubts—they've come to life."
Tara staggered backward, her knees trembling. Her heart raced, and for a moment, she felt the overwhelming weight of despair. I can't win. I can't do this.
But then, something within her stirred. A spark of defiance, of determination. She wasn't just fighting for herself anymore. She was fighting for everything she had worked for—her uncle's research, the world she had to protect, the people who had believed in her.
"No," she whispered, clenching her fists. "I'm not giving up."
With a fierce roar, Tara summoned every ounce of power she had left. She focused on her elemental abilities, reaching deep within herself, past the fear, past the doubt. Time and space bent to her will, twisting and warping as she manipulated the very fabric of reality. The earth trembled beneath her feet, rocks rising from the ground like mountains. Wind whipped around her, picking up speed, while fire and water clashed together, forming a massive vortex of elemental fury.
The fake Tara laughed, creating walls of blackened ice and fire to shield herself. "You think you can defeat me with that? Pathetic."
But Tara wasn't fighting just for power anymore. She was fighting for herself. She was fighting to accept who she was, to face her flaws, her fears, and her strengths.
In one final, desperate surge of will, Tara forced the elements to collide. The vortex of fire and water exploded outward, the force of it sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The fake Tara staggered back, her control over her powers faltering as she tried to maintain her defense.
"I'm not you," Tara said, her voice steady now, filled with conviction. "I'm not perfect. I have doubts. I have fears. But I'm still me. And I accept that. I accept myself."
With those words, the fake Tara screamed as her form began to break apart. The elements she had controlled unraveled, the powers she had once wielded with such ease slipping from her grasp. The battlefield around them began to dissolve, the darkness lifting as Tara's acceptance of herself illuminated the void.
Tara collapsed to her knees, exhaustion threatening to take over, but she had done it. She had faced the parts of herself she had feared, the parts she had denied, and in doing so, she had overcome them.
The last image of the fake Tara shattered, leaving her standing alone in the quiet aftermath. The dreamlike world was gone, replaced by a soft, calming light. Tara's breath steadied, her heart still pounding, but her mind clear.
I did it.
But the trial was far from over. The light shifted around her, and a new presence filled the space. It was not a voice this time, but a feeling—a sense of peace, of acceptance, of growth.
Tara smiled softly to herself. She had faced her greatest enemy—the person she feared most: herself.
And she had emerged stronger for it.