With my pulse ringing in my ears, I startle at a soft hum that connects me to the building, a whisper of magic as I recall the memories of that day.
Sadness bleeds through me. I was completely unaware of the heartache that would follow such events… events I thought I knew.
Were the scythes involved? Yes. But I always believed it was of their own will, never suspected their massacre was at the order of others, especially not The Sanctum, the one place my father trusted me to be safe.
What does that mean for me now?
It means I'm sure as hell not as safe as I thought I was.
Yanking my hand back, I turn away, trudging toward the castle as my mind reels with those same thoughts.
The Sanctum can't get away with this.
I can't allow it.
I've been torn up inside at the mere presence of Elodie because I thought they were gone. I believed I was the last shadow fae. I thought with the scythes gone, justice had been paid. So her presence left me wondering whether I was incorrect. Tormented over the idea that I should pay honor to my heritage and finish the job. Yet a piece of her stole a piece of me, a piece I can't live without.
Taking her life was never really an option, not when she’d already stolen my heart, but now thereissomebody I can extract payment from. More than one, even. At least five, to be exact.
But what leaves me more curious iswhy.
Why did the Shadow Realm need to become this? Nothing but mere existence in my mind, lingering in my dreams with no place else to go. It remains empty and derelict, void of people that once filled this space with joy.
Children.
Mothers.
Fathers.
Friends.
A king.
Mymother.
Myfather.
Mysister.
I vowed their deaths wouldn’t be in vain, and as it stands right now, they certainly were, which only layers the pain with more heartache.
Shaking my head, I focus on the present and quickly realize I've come to a stop. I'm not perched on the balcony like I usually am. My mind has other ideas it seems, as I find myself staring at the double doors leading into the castle.
I never had the strength to step through the doors on the balcony into my parents’ room, never mind these doors that lead to so many more memories that feel like haunting nightmares now. For so long, I have visited here alone and remained outside, but I'm reminded that the moment Elodie took one glimpse inside my parents’ room, an answer revealed itself. It was a truth that we would never have known without the bravery to venture inside.
After looking at the tower, I feel like the smallchild left in there, trembling with fear, but I take a deep breath, encouraging him with the strength I now have, and reach for the handle.
The door opens with ease.
The familiar scents of rosemary and thyme dancing in the air makes my next breath lodge in my throat. Nostalgia takes over. Before I can talk myself out of it and give way to logic, I step inside.
My heart races as a familiar mosaic floor comes into view and a fleeting memory flutters through my mind. It’s easy to recall my mother's glee at the floor, the memory of us piecing it together one little square at a time. It took so long, and there were so many times I wanted to give up, while my father insisted that they could have paid someone in the village to do this. Yet my mother wanted that connection, that memory of us, and now here it sits, a memory; just as she wished.
Warmth floods my chest as I take another deep breath, a soft smile turning the corner of my mouth failing to hide the grief that washes over me. The pain in my chest is almost unbearable, but I breathe it in.
I remember all that she was, all that my father was, all that my sister was in something just as simple as this floor. It may not be the connection tothem that I wish for, or them standing right in front of me, but it's something more than I had.
Letting the door creep closed behind me, I step farther into the room, spying the old wooden sideboard that used to be littered with photos. Each has fallen, the glass shattered into shards scattering the surface and floor, but the mess remains untouched.
