32: The Grimoire's Peony

Gold peony petals burst out of the Morningstar's grimoire to transform into mental seals, which were being set-up around the stormy dreamscape.

Liran tried to grab her lute, but her fingers were being pulled back and pushed away by the dark energy, which continued to pour into her and keep her rooted.

As he flipped the pages, more peony petals flowed with intentions to transform her mental landscape.

But she kept fighting to retain control, pushing against the energy's flow so she could move back. Yet the dark energy kept pushing into her: her mind was struggling to string together coherent thoughts.

"I... fight..." She gritted her teeth as she used what was left of her will to stand firm.

From the back of her head she heard a familiar sigh.

"Ts'sora A'derendra." Grayman's voice flowed through the dreamscape, giving form to ribbons of white magical light that moved around the dark energy.

Enough was peeled back to give Liran wiggle room and ability to cast off some. Her mind drifted with his spelling, thinking of a loving moment with her newborn son: soft and small child who empowered an overwhelming urge and warmth to protect him. He was gone but there were others just as vulnerable who needed her.

"Get... off... ME!" She shouted, emitting white light that threw back the dark energy and started to neutralize it.

More peony petals, black-pink in color, gushed out of the grimoire and flew an attack pattern for her. She stood her ground, closing her eyes as she lapsed into the memory of wrapping her baby with the muslin cloth.

Hush. Hush. La math'ren tsiaron ta lah... The gentle flow of her voice, carrying the traditional alfaren lullaby, gave momentum to tendrils of white magic to wrap and push back the petals flow.

People had said she was too young to be a mother, only living for seventeen years, but their opinions didn't change the fact that she had been carrying life.

The pain of giving birth was excruciating and demanded to think beyond the self to survive it. It awoke within her the power of nurturing. By caring and thinking for her son first, she experienced more and gained wider perspectives. Her motherly love for his short four years made her realize  life miseries were only possible because of the joys, which empowered the will to live.

"The Ninth Shadows has my son, but they don't have my will to live for him!" She declared and lapsed into the memory of singing the lullaby to her son.

The muslin around Sparrowfire appeared and slowly unwrapped as Liran fought the dark energy's hold until her body was almost free.

One burst of fight within her cast the dark energy aside and shattered the gold petal seals. She heaved for breath as she faced her dreamscape surroundings of pink-black peony petals.

She looked down at Sparrowfire in her hands, the muslin cloth flowing around her like a barrier. The lacrimosa was over. It was time to play her aubade filled with chaotic tavern energy and the will to live life to the fullest.