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Episode 89

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SASKIA'S POV

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Maybe I should yell, but I've never been the type to shout in distress. To leak salty streams from my eyes? Maybe. Call for help? Never. The only occasions on which I scream involve my anger. So when Mikael gains on me far faster than I'd predicted, I spin around, fists cocked to fight.

"It's me, a stór. It is me." He cuts me short by his declaration, and I stop mid-swing, gaping at the clear irises that reflect my image. A quick scan at my hand reveals my fingers sparking with a pure white aura that hurts to stare at. On a larger scale, it would be blinding. I tighten my fists to hide the phenomenon. It's not the first time this's happened. If I ignore it long enough, it'll go away.

"Mikael. Thank goodness you're back." I amble towards him, but I only end up slumping forward, my limbs debilitated as the adrenaline passes through. Except I know it's not only that. It's way more than just adrenaline-induced relapse causing my fatigue.

"Are you alright?" Stron
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