Chapter One
No Name
There was no before…there was only the light.
Slowly creeping through the cracks till it was the only thing visible.
A piercing light that engulfed the oblivion.
Nothing to be hidden, nothing to be seen; just a soft, pearlescent glow from a floating wisp.
Up and down, it bobbed overhead and twirled in a happy little dance until suddenly it went still. Only then did the world clear up.
Only then did the pressure of sentience come crashing over the body and it screamed.
“Dragon’s breath, I’ve broken her, sir.”
“She’s not broken; this is common.”
Screaming felt good, like vibrating a long, dusty hallway with the curtains drawn.
Suddenly the curtains were pulled back, and that pearlescent beam of moonlight broke through the crystal panes.
Fractals of light made rainbows everywhere and illuminated all the cobwebs.
The walls trembled in excitement and fear.
Worry. I am worried. I am so very worried.
Something wasn’t right and yet everything was very… very…alive.
I am…alive.
The screaming stopped as the voice cut out and there was no more oxygen in the lungs.
Gasping, choking, sputtering, gasping again, inhaling too deep and wheezing, it happened in quick succession.
Then the world clicked into crisp focus.
Eyes that were once milky and distant come to focus on a face looming over them.
A rectangular face with a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and tusks made out of narwhal horns.
The horns were embedded in the gums like they were always meant to be there.
Red glowing orbs, thick eyebrows, mint skin and stitching that ran across the throat up behind the ears.
This head has been reattached. Has my head been reattached?
Information, abundant and unending, bubbled up to the surface as the corpse sat up sharply.
All the joints stiffened in displeasure with the action.
Pain awakened in the system and the dead creature screamed…
again. A high pitched, sharp sound, vibrating as the room suddenly grew too big then too small.
The wisps of light darted away. Hands wildly swatted at them but fell to the table beneath the flesh.
I can move. I can scream. I can...I’m not breathing again.
Every function to control a body became available like the access to a mind was unlocked.
I am.
I was?
No, I merely am.
The corpse screamed again. Body deflating, muscles failing, eyes burning, the corpse shrieked again and again until the lungs stopped working.
Then she fell back against the slab with a sharp crack, and everything went dark.
“Sir!”
“Do not panic, Austin, she’ll wake up when she’s ready.”
Who am I?
“Now, let’s try this again,” the soft voice coaxed her forward till she opened her eyes again.
A softer room, a single wisp of light loomed over her.
The voice came from a person in a long beaked mask.
Sitting at her side with gloved hands cupping her face, the bird person inspected her with unfeeling circular lenses.
With each twirl of the wisp over her head, the lenses flashed like an eye blinking. But they weren’t eyes. And hers stung.
Blink!
“That’s better. It seems your bodily autonomy is kicking in.
Good. Can you open your mouth for me?” The bird person’s voice circled her head before finally sinking in her ears.
She dropped open her mouth without thinking about it.
Which, I guess, is progress. A scream would be nice, she considered doing it, then the bird person stuck a glass probe in her mouth and she gagged.
Rude. She was forced to close her mouth around the intrusion and stare at the bird person with a twitch in her left eye.
Is this fury? Or frustration? Is this confusion?
She felt something in her lap and looked down. A soft, velvety texture brushed her fingers. Flower petals? She picked them up to inspect them.
“Hyacinth flowers. They’re abundant in the woods.
Outside of dahlias and roses, they’re one of the most common flowers on the property.
Austin likes how they smell and thought it might be a wonderful first thing for you to wake up to…
” the bird person trailed off as she brought the flower to her nose.
She let it linger near her nostrils, the scent cleaning out the nothing that existed in her system prior.
A sweet, floral scent for a delicate bunch of flowers that nearly crumbled as she held them up in front of her. Maybe my grip’s a little tight?
There was a plethora of information lobbed at her at once with little clarification.
Things she did know:
I am a person.
I am alive.
I have no name but my mind is attached to she and her.
I am relatively sure I’m not supposed to be here.
Outside of that, however, the knowledge she had access to seemed vague and aggressive at best. Every glance awakened more sentience but offered little comfort.
She knew blanket and pillow and bedside table and candle—oh there were so many candles.
They floated in the air, slowly igniting till the room was filled with amber light.
Little flames danced while she tried to focus.
She could pinpoint curtains, walls, and a carpet that ran the length of the room.
“Good, internal temperature has risen to sustainable levels. How are you feeling?”
The bird person grabbed the glass probe and slowly slipped it out from under her tongue.
It left her mouth with a wet pop as she studied their mask.
It’s a mask; their face is hidden behind it.
She could see finned ears, long green hair, and a hint of scales along the person’s throat around the collar of their shirt.
They threw a long leg over the other thigh and cocked their beaked head as they awaited an answer.
One such answer she was unsure how to explain.
While she possessed words and language…she wasn’t sure how to form it on her tongue.
It flapped in her mouth, making little sounds here and there as she worked around the function.
As the sounds grew more desperate, she thought she might scream again.
Then something else entirely launched out of her open mouth. “I am alive.”
“Yes.” The bird mask nodded in a pleased manner.
“How?” The question formed behind her teeth and left her spine painfully straight.
“That is a complicated question, but the easy answer is magic, my dear. Do you remember anything?”
“Remember?” The sound was cracked, like it was wrung up through a dry throat.
It only dawned on her after she tried to speak she’d forgotten to swallow down air again.
For a bit there, she was breathing without thinking.
However, speaking took different air, it was almost unbearable how much it took.
Is this why my jaw feels stiff? Or is it because of something else entirely. “I ache.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately that was unavoidable. Here, try to drink this, it should revitalize your bodily functions better.” The bird person lifted up a glass of clear liquid from the bedside table.
Her body moved of its own accord and brought the cup immediately to her lips.
“Slow sips, please, I wouldn’t want you to upset your very tenuous system. ”
“Tenuous?” she asked with a smack of wet lips after sipping the water.
“It means very weak or slight or temperamental, specifically with you I mean that your body has just started to regulate itself. Any stress to its functions could be…painful. So, it is best to take things slow until your body has begun to heal.”
“Heal from what? I’ve just awoken?” The question seemed reasonable enough.
What did she need to heal from? Her mind flashed with images of wounds, deep gashes made from blades, and broken bones.
She was staring down a detailed, graphic memory of a femur breeching ripped skin, sinew falling away everywhere, when the bird mask person stood up.
The blanket over her lap was pulled back and they motioned for her to follow.
Standing took a few moments, but once she was vertical it felt like her body knew what to do.
As if she were pulled on a string at her core, she followed the stranger across the carpet.
It’s soft, plush fibers stroked the bottom of her feet and left her skin tingling.
Then she stood in front of a mirror, staring at a face that felt disjointed from her mind.
Like it was the first time she’d seen it.
This is the first time I’ve seen it. A round face with a curved nose that was slender, but the cheeks were plump.
Auburn hair with a single chunk of white like a stripe, dangled in loose waves around her sloped shoulders.
As she moved her lips about, she watched her face change, and it cemented her in the moment.
This is me. I am me. This is my face. Her fingers reached up to touch her cheeks and prod the silky, soft skin.
Lavender eyes with cracks of plum stared back at her.
Her cheeks gave way and when she smiled, little dimples exposed themselves to the mirror.
She smiled then frowned then opened her mouth.
Champing her teeth, she giggled at the way it vibrated her jaw.
It’s no scream, though. She opened her mouth to do that, wanting to see the mirror tremble with the power of her voice, only to stop as her gaze fell to her throat.
Stiches.
“I am stitched,” she murmured, her fingertips trailing down from her cheeks to her throat.
The skin, though pale, was also raised and red.
Angry, it’s very irritated. Her throat was hot to the touch and the slightest brush of her fingers to the stitches elicited a hiss from her mouth.
It was automatic, even though she didn’t register the pain, not truly. She wrenched her hand back. “Ow.”
“As I said, you’ll still need to heal. I had to make some modifications. May I?”
She blinked, glancing up at the beaked person in the reflection of the mirror.
They reached around her and pulled a singular sash at her mid-section.
The simple knot fell away, and the robe wrapped around her skin dropped to the floor.
Silk pooled at her heels as her eyes adjusted to all the candles that encircled both her and the mirror.
Her fingers came to rest inches from the massive stitches across the center of her chest. While a skinny strapped dress clung to her body, it wasn’t much in the way of coverage.
It was thin and danced in a breeze she couldn’t feel.
Especially as she realized there were two wings that stretched out behind her.
Bones that were shaved into the framework of stained-glass windows for wings flapped behind her with a strange, irregular beat that left her uncomfortable.
She curled inward on herself, only to hiss and straighten.
That I felt. The stitches across the front of her chest were just as red and angry.
“What have you done to me?” The question fell out of her mouth as she turned to the bird masked person.
“I brought you to life. There was a lot of damage to your sternum and your wings were destroyed. Fae often can not regrow them, much like teeth, after they’ve grown their adult set.
Your bones were fragile and there was damage to your internal organs that required I modify your lining, so to speak.
Outside of those modifications, your body is relatively in one piece.
” They snapped their fingers and a door opened behind them.
More light poured into the room and allowed her to see herself even more clearly.
Other than the stitching on her throat, the massive ‘x’ shaped threadwork on her chest, she could twist and see where the person implanted her wings. Her shoulder blades were puffy and angry, just the same as the rest of her.
I am fae? While it felt like an answer, it didn’t clarify anything.
Not anything that helped her, that was, as all the questions she still had were more about identity than anatomy.
Getting her bone-crafted wings to fold back against her back, she winced at the pain that shot up her spine.
Thankfully, with each movement, the feeling dulled.
She sensed she was losing something. What, she could not be sure, but it was leaving her all the same.
The next question burst from her chest. “Who are you?”
“I am Sebastian Rosemont. I am the Lich of these woods and your creator. Who are you?”
Isn’t that the question of a lifetime? She stared at her reflection in the mirror, suddenly remembering to breathe again. I’ve got to get better at that. Her gaze shifted to Sebastian, who picked up her robe and pulled it on her.
“Do not worry, my dear, you have plenty of time to pick a name…”
But she glanced back at the bed where she left the flowers in her wake.
They lay in the dip where her body used to occupy, their scent still lingering in her nose.
Pick a name? She didn’t know what to call herself outside of dead girl.
That doesn’t seem like a good name, especially as I am in fact alive.
Undead? Adjacently alive? I’m curiously breathing.
She squinted at the delicate petals that lay across the inky sheets. “You called those flowers Hyacinth?”
“Hyacinth? You like that name?” Sebastian’s mask bowed inward then out with his breathing.
“Can I have the same name as a flower?” she asked.
“My dear, you can have any name you want.”
“Then I wish to be named Hyacinth.” Hyacinth nodded to herself, returning her gaze to the mirror. Hyacinth, that’s my name. This is the face of Hyacinth.