This time, the portal is different. They way we had gotten to Holdrex was through a purple flickering light and a never ending fall. What felt like forever was really just a couple of minutes. This time— the portal was an inky black blob in the middle of the forest that Kilian had summoned. He called it, 'his way'.

I was dreading landing on my face again. My poor teeth had chattered harder than the bass on Billie Eillish's song 'bad guy' the first time I fell through a portal.

The pool of darkness surrounds me, cradling my body. Whispers caress my ears, in a soothing tone. Almost as if they had a mind of their own; showing me memories of my childhood. In front of me, a flash of thunder, and then, there I am. Except, I'm younger. It's a memory of me kicking my soccer ball into my first ever goal post. My dad is in there in seconds, throwing me into the air.

I'm about six years old— and had the biggest smile of glee plastered on my face.

Quickly, ice shoots out of my fingertips as my dad throws me up once more. Nobody notices in the field— but my father does.

What was once a happy expression on his face quickly turns grim, and shocked.

This is the first ever memory I have of getting my powers.

My heart thuds loudly against my rib cage, and the memory flickers; slipping out of my grasp like a wave of water at the beach.

As soon as the portal starts, it ends. I land on my feet this time, getting spat out in the middle of a battle camp. Soldiers bustling with activity, sparring with weapons of iron and steel. I see them clashing, axes and swords connecting; but I hear nothing. Only my heart thumping against my rib cage. Thump thump thump. My eyes water at the memory of my dad, fingers tightening into a fist. He was so close— and then it shattered to nothing but darkness. And then a booming sense of loneliness, realization that he isn't with me anymore. I'm not that little girl anymore.

Behind me Kilian gets out next, landing on his feet with a thud. His black warrior boots squelch in the mud, taking in the bulky weight of the demon. As he walks past me, he glances at my face and falters a step.

"Viola?" He asks as I stand still, trembling in what could only be shock.

He lets out a low curse and comes closer to me, raising a hand to my cheek. Grasping onto my face his eyes clash with mine in a wake up call.

"It was just an illusion. An old memory. That's what my portals do." He says darkly, as if he felt guilt at what it showed me. Who it had shown me.

"The whispers... my dad—" I stutter, eyes still wide with salty bitter tears. Kilian clenches his jaw and soothingly rubs my cheek.

"I know— they take on the memory that you're closest to. The memory that matters, and they show it to you. Sometimes it's sweet, but sometimes..." he trails off, biting his plump lip as I look up at him.

"What did it show you?" I whisper the question as a pinched, pained expression comes onto his face.

"It sh—" he's cut off as Claire and king Atticus come tumbling out of the inky black portal. Atticus lands on his knees, but Claire quickly comes shooting out of the portal; effectively landing on him. His face splatters in the mud as Claire lets out a squeal.

"It showed me my old bookshelf and garden, with my mom giving me crackers as a five year old." Claire states with an excited smile of being able to relive that memory. Atticus groans and lifts his face out of the mud, turning his head to glance at Claire sitting on his back.

"It showed me my grandma Agatha and the time I walked into her in the shower." Atticus's face contorts into disgust, shivering in fear as Claire laughs.

"I didn't know you had a grandma Agatha!" She says climbing off of him. I blink my tears away and plaster a fake smile on my face, quickly stepping away from Kilian's grasp. Away from his touch.

"That sounds interesting." I chirp out as they both look at me and Kilian.

We all get interrupted at Kilian gives us a flat look, gaze lingering a little longer on my face.

"I'm so glad you people had such a fun time." He drawls out, clasping his hands together. "Now if you don't mind, we have to get a move along." He says dryly, glancing at me once more before turning in his leather boots and marching off. His towering muscular figure walking past warriors in the war camp is the last thing I see as Claire grabs my hand and tugs me into a different direction.

"Atticus says that if there's anyone that knows how to find your dad, it's the camp prophet. Her eyes are all seeing— but she kinda speaks in riddles so it's confusing." She says with a smile. "He's leading the way."

I almost find myself correcting her— telling her that it's our dad, but then I realize that she's right. She doesn't see him as her dad, he didn't raise her. And with a feeling of complete and utter regret, I fill myself with thoughts of sadness. She never got to meet him— to see what he was like. She would've really loved him.

Stop talking about him as if he's dead. I scold myself and squeeze Claire's hand in fake excitement.

I wasn't excited for what the prophet had to say. If anything, I was completely dreading the words that were going to come out of her mouth.

It felt as if I were dragging my feet to the tent of doom and devastation. What if he was dead?

Was that something I'd be able to handle?

"This is the tent." Claire says as I clear my throat.

Looming over us was probably the biggest tent in the camp— decorated with all types of bells and candles. I glance at one of the silver bells connected with two more.

Three bells to keep away demons and ghosts.

"So she's superstitious, huh?" I chuckle nervously as I think of Kilian. Atticus nods as we stare at the dark blue tent, thick with the scent of incense.

And for the first time ever, I find myself hoping that Kilian comes nowhere near us.

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