[Featured on WATTPAD PICKS]
The last thing you'd imagine Earth's General having is an identity crisis, let alone in the middle of an interstellar war, but for General Avalyn Concerto she begs to differ.
...
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Marc shoved Ava back. She hit the ground so hard a bone popped out of place in her shoulder and popped back when she turned over. She wheezed in and in, spots blotted her sight. They teleported, but to where?
Breathe... Just breathe...
Dry grass poked between her fingers, dirt smudged her palms. The bones in her wrist healed, cracking and fitting back into place. Her whole body trembled in pain. Ava gently touched the tender skin around her neck.
Breathe...
Hot tears rolled off Ava's cheeks. Oh, god. It hurt just to touch it. Marc completely crushed her windpipe. With each second, it took forever to deflate, healing at a pace that felt like centuries of waiting. Once it was no longer swollen, she took a deep breath.
Breathe in...
Stomach acid rose up her throat. Ava turned over and coughed and coughed until blood dribbled from her mouth and onto the grass.
A symbol glowed beneath the spot where the blood fell, growing brighter as it soaked into the earth and swallowed it whole. Ripples flashed across the grass in all directions. They crashed like waves into a circle, unveiling an invisible wall and the soft mellow wheat of the UFE's crop fields nearby. Is this a protective barrier? Wait... no, that's not right.
As Ava cradled her throat, Marc stood not far behind. Both hands rested on the top of each sword. His gaze was sharp like a hawk. Rage burned deep inside her.
She jumped up and lunged at his face. Instantly, her fist hit the wall, breaking each bone in her knuckles from the impact. She screamed, raw and hoarse and nothing like her voice. Her throat burned from the pain.
Ava cradled her hand to her chest. Ripples exploded and moved in a current around her, up the walls and showed the tree height of a dome. This was the only thing separating them from a deadly fight. Just fucking great.
Anger drove her mad. With her hand barely healed, Ava slapped the wall in a fit of rage. He stared. She glared right back.
When it felt like her throat finally healed, Ava let it all go, along with all the fear and tears she'd been holding back. "Why—Why are you doing this?"
He said, "Do you remember the story of the boy who lost everything? Of course you do. The false version won over your heart, but the truth is so much worse:
As the tale goes, the boy's parents plotted against the royal crown. They murdered their siblings, and in turn were beheaded for their crimes. But the tale never said that someone helped them. That a god gave them the power they needed to kill their own."
Marc dazed at his palm. "The boy lost his family that day, he became an orphan and was pushed out of the only home he knew. He lost his friends, his way of life. He was isolated, a thing of gossip. Some feared him, most watched him, waiting for him to snap. You'd think his other family would help him, but that's not true. No, the boy's grandparents weren't there for him. His cousins ignored him. They all abandoned him!
