Chapter Ladybug…
Her hand was trembling so much that she could barely see the last lines on the page. “Three hundred…”
Just yesterday, she sat at the table discussing with her parents what had happened to Mel and Skyy. They couldn’t be gone; they were filled with life. How could this have happened?
She couldn’t even say goodbye to them…
“No…” She crumpled the paper into her fist as she swung the door open, the hinges nearly coming free as she charged into the hall and down the stairway. Every step felt like she was submerging herself in hell and would never come from its depths.
Standing in the kitchen was a beautiful, lanky, pale figure with long silver hair and pointed ears.
They were staring at her, concern written in their lavender eyes.
The urge to trust them was so strong that she feared it was a trick, Magic to keep her from finding the absolute truth of what was going on.
“Ladybug…”
“No—No, I don’t know you. Where are they?” Her voice was broken, shattered under the weight of her despair. “Where are my sisters?”
The figure dropped its shoulders, “Did you see the letter?”
“It’s a trick,” she spat, her hands clenching into tight fists. “A trick from the gods, that’s all.” Her eyes darted towards the lone door, and she lunged for it.
Her legs propelled her forward swiftly, and she charged ahead as the figure stepped in her way. Using all her strength, she thrust them against the wooden door, which broke open with a resounding crack.
Though her forearms throbbed from the impact, Azahara wasted no time. She quickly descended a few steps and faced overcast skies and an endless expanse of nothingness.
There was no village.
There was no one.
Her legs only carried her a few more feet before they felt like sticks, and under the heavy weight of her sorrow, she crumbled to the ground. The flowers that surrounded her then, carnations, roses, spider lilies, forget-me-nots, hydrangeas, and lavenders, were all placed there with a purpose.
It suddenly dawned on her that this home wasn’t coincidentally designed to create a sense of safety for her.
It had been intentionally arranged this way.
The flowers chosen were all favorites of her siblings, from the carnations Mel adored to the spider lilies which had been Skyy’s preferred choice.
The scent of vanilla evoked memories of her mother’s love for baking sweets, while the presence of peppermint reminded her of her father, who would always bring the treat home after being away.
The vines were meticulously placed throughout the room, a call to how relentless they were on her childhood home. Ultimately, she loved them and told her parents to stop taking them down, telling them she’d take care of the rodents.
Even the placement of the house. The forest at which she would hunt, the smell of the sea for her affinity for swimming, and the mountains, the ones she stared at in the distance through her window every night.
“It’s true…” The embodiment of her sorrow poured in her tone, “They are gone.” The hot tears that began to roll down her cheek were endless. How had she done this for three hundred years?
This was pain, and torture. Why me…
“Ladybug,” It was, she had said their name was Illyan, that stood behind her. “It will be okay. I’m here for you.”
She felt their hand on her shoulder then, and a sense of Magic ran through her core. She never dabbled in it, but she somehow knew what it was. Its warmth caressed her like a blanket.
They stood there as the sun crossed the overcast sky, and the night began to swallow the area around them.
Time had felt meaningless, and she could have likely sat there for days without standing.
Except, time was something that she didn’t have on her side.
It didn’t afford her the comforts of forgetting its existence.
“How long do I have?” Azahara asked, defeat lining her tone.
“One year.” Illyan said while putting their hand out to assist her. She looked up at them, their lavender eyes were gentle and held no judgment.
With a resounding sigh, she stood, “Let us get started then.”