Blood Stained Tranquility by N. Isabelle Blanco

it impossible for her to make sense of what she saw. Parts of the blur moved and she realized that she was surrounded by people.
    Was she lying on a bed? She tried the whole rolling-over thing one more time, but the memory of what had happened with her mom hit her, threatening to suck her back into that time in her life. She cried out from the rage. The fire in her grew, demanding she reach out for someone who wasn’t there.
    Zeniel.
    She struggled to push back the darkness.
    “We’re losing her again. Move back.”
    Was that Vedlyl? Her friends really were there. One of them could go get Zeniel for her! She thrashed, violent in her need to get the words out and beg one of them to find Zen. A hot hand landed on her shoulder. A biting shock went through her veins, followed by a burst of pain that robbed her of all energy.
    “What the hell is this?” Soleria sounded outright enraged.
    “To put it simply, her molecular structure is unstable and the R’mannev is taking over. Her soul can’t be blamed for trying to escape her body. I don’t know what to do for her other than to put her back under.”
    Vedlyl smoothed his hand over her temple, and it was like getting KO’d. Darkness punched her, making her eyes roll back into her head. The last thing she heard was Nylicia’s voice.
    “Remember that it’s not black and white. Nothing is black and white. You’re going to have to teach him that. Remember that, Eve.”

Chapter 6
       
    “Remember that it’s not black and white. Nothing is black and white.”
    Black and white.
    Light and darkness.
    Zeniel and Mavrak.
    Eve gasped, and darkness sucked her under. Further, deeper, until . . .  
    The light had faded. It had remained with him for days, it seemed, before disappearing. The lack of sight didn’t bother him, though. It served to help his mental turmoil, a turmoil he’d been steadily fighting—and overcoming—since he had awakened. The roaring in his head was nearly gone. It had been destroyed by his will to remain tranquil and strong.
    He would not let the beast within him break free once more. He had been reborn inside himself. He was a new being, unable to dredge up more than one solid memory of what he had last been.
    But there were flashes, detailed enough to sicken him. He had killed with his bare hands. He had killed with his infernal powers of Vengeance. The things he had done to thousands . . . the horrid, merciless deaths he had caused with his stare.
    No. He was not that thing anymore. He was Zeniel now, and new powers had begun to awaken within him.
    The new energy inside him was the polar opposite of the brain-splitting roars he had once been a slave to, and as it expanded, so did his relief. Yes, he would succeed and beat back the atrocity within him. He had a new purpose now, one that blanketed his every breath.
    Protect.
    Exactly. He could not remember who he had to protect, but it didn’t matter. That didn’t make his need to fulfill his purpose any less pressing. He would remember who he needed to protect later. For now, simply knowing of his purpose was enough to motivate and satiate him.
    With deep, slow breaths, he focused on only quieting his mind, until silence became second nature.
    He had not moved from his position on the stone floor of his cell in what must have been days. The gods had imprisoned him for only they knew how long. He had been starved and tortured. Several days ago, however, he was visited by a small female surrounded by light and the torture had stopped. He did not remember her from before, yet she apparently had known him, and had promised to send someone to remove him from the prison.
    Tired, he closed his eyes and let the calm suck him back in. Eventually, the sound of the large stone door sliding open dragged him back into awareness. The light that shot into the cell came close to blinding him.
    “The prisoner is within, and as you shall see, docile as a little pup. We have ripped his will from his