I wonder if that flower had anything to do with it being different. Roi sanivin doesn’t exist anymore, so I wonder why it appeared in my nightmare cage.
That, however, will need to be a thought I think about later. Right now I need to focus on the four celestials crowding my room. Two of which have seen my scars, and all of them I’m sure are wondering what exactly has happened.
Normally it doesn’t last this long. From the looks of it I couldn’t have been gone forthatlong in that realm. Jullia andAsher are still here, same as Callahan. Though now Professor Asier is here too. Him and Thorne and Professor D’etre. The former who’s looking at me like he wants to rip every secret out of my head. I don’t think I have to worry about him telling everyone else about my scars because of my threat. The Mage Board is strict about those kinds of things.
However, my secret of what just happened is something I can’t just pretend didn’t happen. At least the celestials won’t let me.
Placing my hands on my hips, I arch a brow and squint at the celestials standing. Callahan is still on his knees where he had been hugging me. There’s a tug I feel wanting to pull me towards him. I don’t understand what it is or why it wants me to go to him, but I also wish he would stop crying because for some reason I don’t want to see him in pain.
What. The. Fuck.
Shaking that thought away, I point my stare to the ones standing. “Why are you in my dorm room?”
Professor D’etre and Thorne are staring at me like I have a second head while Professor Asier is still glaring at me. Thorne is the first to mask his face as he quickly glances behind me where I’m sure ashes are still drifting.
I thought they would have disappeared by now, but maybe they’re lingering because of how long I was kept.
Capturing our attention, Thorne states, “You owe us an explanation.”
States – like a goddamn demand.
“I owe you?” I question, my voice dropping with a predators viciousness.
The entirety of my body, mind, spirit, and soul ache. I have just been subjected to a type of torture that mars your astral body. Scars shouldn’t be able to appear on one’s spirit or soul, but apparently I’m just different.
“I. Owe. You.Nothing.” Each word punctuated with forced fury. I am too tired to spar in any sense but I will also not allow these men to control me. They will not demand anything of me. I will not –
“You owe me,” a quiet voice murmurs.
Dark eyes focused on me and those three words hit with a force they shouldn’t have. The truth of them ring out into the room and I drop my hands from my hips to curl them into fists. To dig my nails into my palms.
Professor D’etre swallows and relaxes his stance. “You said you owe me. A price for allowing you to drink my blood.”
Oh how I wish I could turn back time. How I wish I could have just starved or passed out or literally anything other than plunging my fangs into his neck.
“Tell us what happened,” he continues, “and then we’ll be even.”
What a twisted fucking price.
Still. . . of all the things he could have asked for. Of all the things I could have given him instead. It makes the corner of my lip curl up before I can stop it.
Blowing out a breath, I release my fists and drop my shoulders. Turning to look behind me, I watch the last of the ashes float before eventually disappearing like smoke.
“Well. . . “ I begin. Turning back to them I wonder if they’ll even actually believe me. “Have you ever heard of the sun death realm?”
Callahan stands and wipes his face. Finally he stopped crying. Shifting towards me but not making a move to touch me again. He had moved my clothes so his head and arms in his short sleeve shirt didn’t touch me. I wonder if he knows a way to make it so he can touch my skin without harming me.
He waits patiently for me to continue, brow furrowed in confusion and unknowing about the realm. Thorne’s face morphs into a similar expression though it’s tinged with suspicion. Professor Asier is still glaring at me, though his eyes flicker with questions and curiosity.
Only one person in the room hesitates with their expression. A second too late showing their confusion or curiosity or unknowingness.
I lock eyes with darkness. Golden-brown hair mussed, probably from sleep, with olive skin and gold streaking through the color. I have no idea if they are his actual veins or scars or tattoos, but they’re striking. A fitting aesthetic for a demigod. A demigod who can shapeshift into any creature or beast, a demigod who is a spy and has traveled to other universes, worlds, and realms.
The body doesn’t lie.
His nearly black eyes don’t waver as I continue staring at him. He doesn’t waver. Fine.
“It’s. . . for lack of better words, a nightmare realm.” Turning to the others, I wave my hand behind me. “Just as there are some who can make their dreams reality, sometimes nightmares become it instead. Although, instead of this planebecoming the reality, you are moved to the reality where the nightmare is. This being the sun death realm. That’s where I was.”
