πππππππππ πππππ'π ππππππ.
having such wild , unrelenting power of flame coursing through her from as far back as childhood , had never been something she cherished. respected , and grateful for the fire she could wield yes. undoubtedly so. but the deep down burden of what her gift carried , it was the largest weight that drug her down day in and day out. some passed sorrow to her when the bulk of her powers were siphoned off in order to forge the locks ; reminded her that she was still aelin no matter how deep her well went. but the truth was , she didn't feel whole until the overflowing well of power was quenched. for she had never needed her powers , not even a trace , to know who she was deep down. who aelin ashryver whitethorn-galathynius was was more than that.
there is a small pool of her power that still lingers. fire that can be wielded in just a much smaller scale as one final gift from mala herself. albeit tantamount to her ability with water she had been gifted from her mother's line. and yet there is a failsafe. a hidden trigger that could free the burrowing well within and return the blazing force before. come a threat , one large enough to cause chaos and despair of undeniable amounts , the lid would lift. the flame once again returning to its previous power. one last gift from the goddess herself to ensure after all that aelin had given , she would still be able to protect all she helped create.
