After five long hours of unconsciousness, Joyous's husband finally stirred. The moment his eyes opened, the air in the room shifted—thick, heavy, suffocating.
Then, suddenly, he bolted upright.
"Joyous… my love…" His voice trembled as his eyes locked onto me. "Why is she still here?"
The way he looked at me sent a chill down my spine. Not just fear—something deeper. As if I were something unnatural… something dangerous. His anger simmered beneath it, barely contained.
Joyous stepped forward quickly, her voice calm but firm. "There is no need to fear her. She won't harm us. She's just a child… and she has nowhere else to go."
He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. "If you truly believe that," he said slowly, "then she can stay." His eyes hardened as they returned to me. "But I don't want to see anything… unusual again. If I do, I will call the people who are looking for her. Do you understand?"
Joyous nodded silently.
He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he began to step backward, his movements cautious, almost fragile—like a man retreating from something he didn't understand. From me.
I stood there, frozen.
Why?
Why did my presence make someone feel so powerless… so afraid?
What was I?
The question echoed inside me, louder than ever before.
And beneath it, a quieter ache surfaced.
My mother.
Would I ever find her? Would I ever understand where I came from… or what I was becoming?
Or would I always be this… unknown thing people feared?
Not long after, Joyous led me into a hidden room.
The moment I stepped inside, my breath caught. The walls were alive with intricate technology—glowing panels, quiet hums, systems far beyond anything I had seen before… except once.
At my grandparents' home.
A strange realization settled over me.
It wasn't just technology.
It felt… connected to us.
To our power.
Joyous watched me carefully before speaking. "This room is protected," she said. "If we train out there—if we use our abilities freely—our enemies will find us."
Her voice lowered.
"And when they do… they won't hesitate."
A cold silence followed.
"There are others," she continued, her gaze distant now. "Not like us. Not even close. They are the ones who destroyed our land in ancient times."
A shiver ran through me.
"Our enemies are stronger than all of us," she said quietly.
Then she looked at me.
"But after seeing your mark, child…" Her eyes lit up, something fierce and hopeful burning within them. "I believe there is still hope."
My chest tightened.
"Hope?" My voice barely came out. "What do you mean, ma?"
She stepped closer, gently taking my hands in hers.
"There is an ancient tale," she said, almost reverently. "A prophecy. It speaks of the return of the Mamba Queen… a goddess who possesses power beyond anything we can comprehend. Power that could change everything."
My heart began to race.
No.
No, that couldn't be—
"If I am right about you," she continued, her grip tightening slightly, "then you may be the one destined to defeat them."
The words hit me like a storm.
"I… I can't be the Mamba Goddess," I said, a nervous laugh escaping me, though it felt hollow. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm just a village girl. I sell vegetables. That's all I've ever been."
Joyous's expression softened, but her eyes remained unwavering.
"My dear… where you come from does not define who you are meant to become," she said gently. "If the gods have chosen you… then they have already seen what you cannot."
Her faith in me felt heavy.
Too heavy.
Because what if she was wrong?
What if I wasn't anything special at all?
What if I failed her… and everyone else?
The thought settled deep in my chest, sharp and suffocating.
Only time would reveal the truth.
Moments later, she left the room and returned carrying three massive books, their covers worn with age.
"These contain everything we know," she explained. "Every being… every power… every mark."
I opened one carefully, my fingers trembling.
Page after page pulled me deeper in—creatures, histories, abilities I had never imagined. It was overwhelming… and fascinating.
Until I reached the final section.
My breath caught.
There it was.
My mark.
My hands tightened around the pages as I read.
And then—
Nothing.
Only a single line stood out clearly:
Shapeshifter.
The rest… was gone.
Torn.
Missing.
A sudden wave of panic surged through me.
Why would something so important be incomplete?
What was being hidden?
I snapped the book shut and rushed out, my heart pounding violently in my chest. I found Joyous in the kitchen.
"What happened to the missing page?" I asked, my voice urgent.
She went still.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then, slowly, she turned to face me.
"Many years ago," she began, "a young woman came here. She was only a little older than you."
My breath hitched.
"She had the same birthmark," Joyous continued. "Exactly the same."
My heart began to race uncontrollably.
"She brought those books with her," she said. "But she was afraid. She said the enemy was close—too close. She told us they were hunting her… and her daughter."
The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
"She said she had hidden her child somewhere safe," Joyous added quietly.
A deafening silence filled my mind.
No.
It couldn't be…
Or could it?
"Do you know where she is?" I asked, my voice trembling with something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
Joyous's expression softened.
"No, Nana," she said gently. "But she left something behind."
My heart skipped.
"A letter."
She turned and hurried to her room, searching through old files, old memories.
Then finally—
She found it.
She held it carefully, almost reverently, before placing it in my hands.
"This is for her child," she said softly. "And I believe… that child is you."
I stared down at it, my fingers trembling.
This letter…
It might lead me to her.
To the woman who could be my mother.
Or to the truth I had been searching for all along.
The letter trembled in my hands.
Or maybe it was me.
My heart slammed against my chest so violently it felt like it might break free. I stared at the envelope, unable to open it, as if whatever waited inside could change everything.
"Look, Nana… we aren't sure if she's your mother," she said softly, her voice careful, almost fragile. "But if she is, you might find answers in that letter."
Her fingers wrapped gently around mine. Warm. Steady. Grounding. As if she could feel the storm raging inside me—the fear, the hope, the unbearable weight of what if.
"I'll go finish cooking," she added quietly.
I nodded, barely aware of the movement.
And then she was gone.
The room fell silent.
Too silent.
I swallowed hard and stared down at the letter again.
Here goes nothing.
Slowly, carefully, I broke the seal.
The paper unfolded with a faint whisper that somehow felt louder than thunder.
Dear Daughter,
I cannot write your name… not when enemies could intercept this letter.
But I know where you are.
You are with your grandparents—just as I left you.
I need you to understand something. I did not abandon you. I did not die.
I ran.
My life is in danger.
There are others—people with abilities unlike ours—hunting me. I am the first to carry the mark I bear… the same mark that lives within you.
That is why I left.
Not because I didn't love you… but because I loved you too much to let you be hunted.
Leaving you was the hardest thing I have ever done.
And they must never know about you. Not yet. Not until this war is over.
If this letter has found you, then you are at Mama Joyous's house.
That means my plan worked.
Because you and I… we are connected.
No matter where you go, no matter what finds you, I made sure you would always find your way to her.
I cannot tell you where I am.
But if you truly want to find me… then don't search the world.
Search me.
Think of me. Hold this letter close.
And you will find me.
Always remember this—
Your mother loves you.
The words blurred.
Tears spilled over before I could stop them, hot and relentless, crashing down my face as everything inside me shattered at once.
I couldn't breathe.
A sob tore through me, raw and broken.
Joyous rushed in, wrapping her arms around me, but it only made me cry harder.
"That's her," I choked out. "I know it… that's my mom…"
My voice cracked under the weight of it.
"She's out there… she's in danger… or—" I stopped myself, shaking my head violently. "No. No. I won't believe that."
I clenched the letter tightly.
"No matter what happens… I'm going to find her."
The words weren't just a promise.
They were a vow.
I don't know how long I sat there.
But something inside me wouldn't let it go.
Her words.
Think of me.
They echoed again.
And again.
And again.
Until they were the only thing I could hear.
I stood abruptly.
The training room.
That was the only place.
I locked the door behind me, sealing myself in silence. My hands tightened around the letter as I brought it close to my chest.
I closed my eyes.
Focused.
On her.
On the idea of her.
On the connection she said we shared.
And then—
Light exploded from my body.
It wasn't like before.
I wasn't transforming.
I was rising.
My feet lifted off the ground as energy surged through me, wild and electric, wrapping around my body like a living force.
I was floating.
Weightless.
Powerful.
Connected.
Then the visions came.
Fast. Violent.
I saw her.
Running.
Desperate.
Shadows chasing her—closing in.
My heart raced as if I were there, as if I could feel her fear.
Then suddenly—
She stopped.
Everything froze.
Silence swallowed the chaos.
Slowly… she lifted into the air.
Just like me.
And then—
We were there.
Together.
Not in body…
But in soul.
I couldn't see her clearly. I didn't know her face.
So I stood there, suspended in that strange, glowing space, staring at the woman before me—the woman who might be my mother.
Time seemed to stop.
Neither of us spoke.
Neither of us moved.
Just silence.
Heavy. Sacred.
Unbreakable.
Then—
I saw it.
Tears.
Falling from her eyes.
Something inside me cracked open.
Not with pain—
But with hope.
Bright. Fierce. Unshakable.
For the first time in my life, it felt real.
She was real.
This moment… was real.
And deep in my soul, I knew—
This was it.
I had found her.
My mother.
And this time…
Nothing was going to tear us apart.