his very own

    There it was again. Thin strands of liquid spun around his fingers, forming into a bigger mass around his whole hand. Caspian glanced at the other one, feeling the water embracing the fingers on both of his hands. He felt its being, comforting him from the inside. He had thought that it would never choose him.

    But here it was, proving his self-doubt wrong. Tugging gently at his ribs from the inside, tingling in his lungs as it wanted to flare up to aid him.

    Caspian had lived in Greenheart's shadow for so long - and those thoughts of shame had followed him for his whole life, constantly. If she was able to harness the power of electricity, he'd have to do the same - that's what they told him, over, and over, and over again.
    But he had no dragon to befriend, no creature to borrow from. No Athos wielded any sort of magical prowess on their own. They were shape-shifters in the skin of a beast, nothing less, nothing more.

    But this was his. Its aura embraced Caspian's whole body, drowning his hatred into warm compassion. This wasn't borrowed, this wasn't stolen, nor loaned - it was his, and his alone. Tears framed Caspian's lower eyelids like jewels, as they hovered off his cheeks into the swirls of water that circled him.

    Maybe he wasn't so useless, after all.