Heat rushed to his cheeks at the memory. How could he forget? It caused such a tangled web of emotions that he had yet to unweave.
“Yeah, Siren. I remember.”
“Xia, Brooks. My name is Xia.”
The sound of her name made him shiver, but he didn’t speak.
“I tasted you that night. There is an endless amount of chaos running through your veins.”
“Chaos?”
“Magic. It’s what we call magic.”
He wanted to argue, to tell her to stop being so fucking ridiculous. Wanted to shut her out and fall back into reality where he could figure out how to get out of that godsdamned room unscathed with his mind intact.
“That night, Brooks? In your bed? That was real. When I danced for you in the red room? It was all real, Brooks. You were there. You projected a piece of your soul and it found me.”
“No, this is all bullshit. Just shut up, Xia. Shut up, shut up,shut up!”
“Please, Brooks! You trust in everything else, why is it so hard to trust me? To believe in me? Do not deny this, us. You are in danger, and I need you to fight. I am begging you to lay down your denial and embrace acceptance. If you don’t–“ her voice broke.“If you don’t, I’m afraid you’re going to die. And I can’t lose you.”
Brooks grit his teeth against the anxiety and fear and his blood pulsed through his ears and drowned every sound except his heartbeat.
He wanted to deny her. Wanted to ignore her, to make her go away, but… what if she was right? He had put his trust in Lytta and his passenger and, though it put him in a situation to be fighting for his life…
He wasalive.
For the first time in his whole god-forsaken life in that fucking asylum, he heard the rush of the wind and felt the sunlight on his skin. Days were vivid and memorable and he always had something to look forward to.
If putting his faith in Lytta and his passenger gave him all of that beauty before death… then maybe believing in his Siren could save him.
He had accepted Lytta’s truth and his passenger’s role within himself. It was time to accept the possibility that all was not as it seemed and that his future was becoming solid enough to grasp and control. His Siren was real, and he was ready to listen.
Magic.
Though magic felt unrealistic, so too, did his reality.
Unexplainable gaps in time. Being so tied down to a place but never really immersed into it, rather, living like a fly on the wall. No recollection of his life before the asylum. Two voices inside his head with lives of their own. The way shadows seem to press themselves against him and purr in response to him.
And then there was Lytta.
She crashed into his life like a lost comet and changed everything. Vibrant colors replaced the shades of brown and he felt more awake than ever before. Birds sang in the trees and smells drifted through the winding halls of the asylum. The monotony changed and the days ahead became something to look forward to.
Trust.
Friendship.
She had given him something to cherish in life where, before, he had nothing. Nothing other than himself and a fractured mind.
Then there was his Siren– his sunshine on stormy days. Even when all felt lost, she was there to guide him back from the edge, and the night they shared together…
It had to be real.
Itwasreal.
If his everyday life didn’t make sense, then there was no reason he couldn’t entertain the thought of magic.
“Okay, Siren. I’m listening. Tell me about magic. Tell me everything.”
