Chapter 17
Shedding the Old Skin
The process of outgrowing 'Solomon' is not painful, but liberating, like shedding an old skin to reveal a brighter, more authentic self.
The feeling wasn't a sharp pain, not a tearing away, but more like the soft unfurling of a fern frond, or the gentle loosening of a cocoon’s silken threads. Danguolė sat amidst the dusty stacks of the Kaunas archives, the familiar scent of old paper and forgotten ink a comforting blanket around her. The imagined weight of Solomon’s crown, once so heavy and important, now felt surprisingly light, almost as if it had dissolved into the very air she breathed. It wasn't a loss, this shedding of an old skin, but a revelation. The girl who had once yearned to be Solomon, all-knowing and all-seeing, was making space for someone else, someone entirely new.
She traced the faded gold lettering on a leather-bound book, the titles of which she could no longer quite recall. Hadn't she once believed that understanding all these words, all these histories, was the key to being Solomon? Perhaps it was, for a version of herself that no longer quite fit. The Solomon she had envisioned was a statue, carved in stone, unmoving and permanent. But Danguolė was no statue. She was a river, always flowing, always changing, carrying new sediments, carving new paths. And the thought of being a river, rather than a stone, felt profoundly freeing.
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the afternoon sun cast elongated shadows across the worn wooden floor. Outside, the world hummed with a quiet energy, a stark contrast to the hushed reverence of the archives. She remembered the fleeting glimpse of the green and blue gazelle, its coat shimmering with impossible colours, its silent song echoing in the chambers of her heart. That song, she now understood, was not a melody to be learned, but a feeling to be embraced. It was the melody of her own unfolding.
Keep reading "Shedding the Old Skin"
Open the same story in AIBookCraft. Later chapters may require an active subscription.
Free on iOS & Android · No signup to read