My father had kept me at a distance my whole life. I never thought better of it, and paid little to no attention. To me, this was his way of displaying his affection for me, and I learned to accept this.
I didn’t learn I was wrong until I had lived twenty years of my life and had the ability to see things from his point of view — literally.
I illegally bought the potion on the black market, just to see if it would work and selecting my dad was a decision made carelessly in seconds.
Like my relationship with him, I hadn’t thought better of it.
I would have liked to say our hovercraft touched down smoothly and successfully as planned. That it sank into soft snow, quietly descending from blue, undisturbed skies like we hoped.
From takeoff, everything was fine. We were rebels in a world that didn’t want us, but we were escaping, and that was enough.
Our crew set out to land on Vandon, an isolated and icy peninsula off the coast of Della, a kingdom blanketed in snow and sleet.
We hastily boarded the plane, which was expertly concealed behind one of many skyscrapers in the area.
We didn’t think twice; we couldn’t.
Without bothering to do a head count, those of us who had made it on the aircraft thought we were safe. The mission was years in the making.
I don’t think I can do it.
I mean, could you if you knew your biggest fear was yourself? The broken images you see in your mirror, the lilting whispers never fading from your ear?
But I bite my fear back and trudge forward.
Immediately a blast of zero-degree air hits me. Knocks me back. Leaves me spinning. Even as I stand, still several meters away, I can see images burning at the back of my brain, begging to light the flame of fear.
Of course, I think. It’s trying to find my deepest fear. And it will in a matter of but a few seconds.
I’m right.
Images swirl behind my eyes, searing pain and bright light streaking. I see myself, hollow eyes and alone. Alone.
Worthless.
Stumbling, reaching forward on my hands and knees, I venture further.
