And then we’re plunged into darkness. Left with only a faint scent of berries and floral and power older than the first celestials and witches.
Twenty-Four
Mavyn – Septmust 1
The scones on the walls light and every single person here is staring at me. Eyes of all kinds of colors and shades pointed right at me. It makes me want to hide. I wish I knew how to shadow twist right about now.
The first pair of eyes I notice are glaring at me. Dark red, almond shaped eyes across the grounds. So much suspicion and disgust and hatred. It’s boiling with his blood moving so evenly through his veins. His heart beating so steadily. You would think it would be rushing with his emotions, but it’s a calm sort of loathing.
Abomination.
Monstrous.
Cursed.
After everything – the nightmare and pain, then the gentleness from Callahan, and then the peace from the ceremony – it just makes me want to curl in on myself and pretend to not exist.
The spirits of the Willow of Lore had let me sing with them and for the first time since Caleb and his ball imitating the sun, I felt the kind of warmth you can only get from the sun and its rays without burning. Warmth without the burning.
So much warmth and peace and serene and beauty. Music can heal the soul in a way no god or goddess can. Lyrics and melodies and harmonies, they are a type of magic all on their own.
And that feeling of acceptance and home and a soul that is not scarred or fractured orcursedextinguishes.
Like the lights of the spirits going out, plunging the rest of us into darkness.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
I don’t bother looking over to the rest of the celestials. I don’t care to see their hatred or disgust or everything else they feel about me. I should have kept my hands at my side and my mouth shut. I should have stayed pretending to be invisible.
But the spirits had already approached me and it has been so long since I let my control rest and I just wanted. . .
I shake my head and turn away from them. From the tree that now feels no different to any other. Callahan still stands there but I don’t want to look at him either. I don’t want to look at his golden eyes and chance seeing his soul again.
His hand reaches for me, but I side step him and continue through the crowd of people. No one has moved or said a singlething, all their eyes still focused on me. But my own are on the ground and once I’m past those that were in the back I make a run for it.
I hadn’t worn my heeled boots tonight and I’m thanking my past self for it.
For some reason needles prick at my nose and between my eyes as I fly through the corridors and halls. My arms and legs pumping, I push them harder than I had this morning. Even though I should I don’t keep a hold on my heartbeat and blood flow. The organ in my chest thumps at a hazardous pace and my breath feels like razors in my lungs.
Music was always my escape. It was the one thing that fucking sun devil couldn’t take away. A passion and worship and honor. Music can unite and the melodies and lyrics don’t even matter because it’s what youfeel. Music is the truest form of magic, and yetheruined it.
Sneering at me as if I was a disgustful parasite that ruined the ceremony. As if the spirits didn’t accompany me with their song and bow to me afterward.
I round the banister that starts where the path to the dorms are, but I don’t take it and instead keep running. There’s still too much energy burning within me. My hold on my aura and magic nonexistent right now and after so long with always keeping it controlled it wants to unleash. It wants to roar.
My vision blurs and I nearly trip and it takes me entirely too long to realize tears are muddling my vision.
WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?
I want to scream. I want to rage.
It’s not fair.
IT’S NOT FAIR.
IT’S NOT FAIR.
AND I KNOW IT NEVER HAS BEEN AND I KNOW IT NEVER WILL BE.
