Chapter 18: Failure
I pushed the door open, my pulse racing. There she was, sitting upright on the bed, though she looked like a ghost of herself—pale and fragile, her hands gripping the edges of the blanket as if holding on for dear life. Relief and a thousand questions battled in my chest.
I stepped closer, my boots muffled against the thick carpet. Her eyes met mine, hazy but searching, and the faintest crease formed between her brows.
"You're awake," I said, my voice betraying the mixture of relief and urgency I felt.
She nodded weakly, her lips parting as though words came to her slowly. "I… I saw something," she murmured, her voice soft but steady enough to command my full attention. "A memory… of me. At the lake." Her fingers tightened on the blanket, her knuckles whitening. "I was there, Lucius. But it wasn't me… was it?"
Her gaze pierced through me, a mixture of desperation and confusion swimming in those eyes. "Am I… her?"
The air thickened around us. I let the question hang for a moment, my chest tightening. It wasn't something I could answer—not with certainty. But there was a way to find out.
"There's only one way to know for sure," I said, keeping my voice calm despite the storm inside me.
I reached behind me, carried the sword hoping she will unsheathe it this time around.
Carefully, I held it out to her, watching as her eyes widened. She hesitated, her trembling fingers slowly reaching for it.
"You've tried before," I reminded her, though the hope in my chest burned fiercely this time. "But the lake… it might have awakened something within you. If you are truly her, this sword will answer to you now."
She took the sword, her hands unsteady as they wrapped around the hilt. I held my breath, the air between us crackling with anticipation.
"Try again, Kiara," I said softly. "Prove it to yourself—and to me."
Her grip tightened, her jaw setting with determination. As she lifted the sword, the room seemed to hum with an unspoken energy, as if the very air recognized the significance of this moment.
Her hands gripped the hilt tightly, her knuckles turning white as she focused every ounce of strength into the task. The tension in the room was palpable; even the air seemed to grow heavier with expectation.
But as she pulled, the sword didn't budge. Not even a flicker of movement.
My heart sank like a stone, the hope that had been burning so brightly now snuffed out in an instant. I glanced at Asher, whose expression mirrored my own disappointment. Kael looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line. Ryder shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
Kiara let out a shaky breath, lowering the sword with trembling hands. Her face was pale, her eyes brimming with confusion and a touch of guilt. "I… I don't understand," she whispered, barely audible. "I thought… I felt something at the lake."
I stepped forward and took the sword from her hands, my jaw tightening. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, and I could feel the unspoken judgment in the room.
"It's fine," I said, though my voice was clipped, betraying my frustration. "This only confirms what we suspected. You're not her."
Her head bowed slightly, her shoulders slumping under the weight of those words. I didn't have the patience to comfort her—not now, not with so much at stake.
I turned to Asher, who was standing stiffly by the door. "Asher," I said sharply, "go to Prophetess Kim. Remind her that today is the ritual. Make sure everything is prepared. We're sending her back and getting the real one."
Asher hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to Kiara, but he didn't argue. He gave a curt nod and left the room without a word.
The silence that followed was suffocating. I placed the sword back in its stand, my movements precise and deliberate, though my mind was a storm of conflicting emotions.
"I'll leave you to rest," I said to Kiara, my voice devoid of warmth. Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and strode out of the room, the disappointment trailing after me like a shadow.
As I sat on the bed, my hands still trembling from the effort, the weight of failure pressed heavily on my chest.
Kiara POV
Even I couldn't help but feel the sting of defeat. A small part of me, one I wasn't entirely ready to acknowledge, had hoped—had wanted—to succeed. For reasons I couldn't explain, a sliver of me yearned to be her. To be Athena.
But why?
The memory at the lake replayed itself in my mind, vivid and surreal. The water shimmering under the moonlight, the feeling of familiarity, and the voice calling out from within me—it felt so real, so undeniably mine. But how could it be? How could something like that belong to me.
I clenched my hands into fists, trying to steady the turmoil inside. What were those memories, and why were they stirring inside my head? Was it because I was trapped in Athena's body? Or was there more to this than I could comprehend?
Something deep within me tugged at my soul, a whisper of belonging I didn't want to acknowledge. It told me I wasn't done here, that my presence in this world had a purpose. It was an absurd thought, one I tried to shake off, but it clung to me stubbornly.
Yet, even as those thoughts surfaced, the faces of my family back home flashed before my eyes. My mother's gentle smile, my father's protective embrace, my sister's mischievous laughter—I missed them so much it hurt.
I belonged there. Not here.
This wasn't my place. It couldn't be.
I glanced around the room, now nearly empty except for me. The tension had driven everyone out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Lucius's words echoed in my ears, sharp and final: "You're not her."
Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't. But that didn't mean the strange connection I felt to this world didn't exist.
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts. I shouldn't dwell on this. My path was clear—I had a life to return to, a family waiting for me.