Chapter 37 #2
Esmirra stumbles back a step as she tries to hide her expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would have never – “
“But you did,” I state. “That’s the real reason you killed your mother at the winter solstice masquerade ball exactly ten years after you helped make the Willow of Lore.
When you saw a ghost of the future. You felt guilty for what you were planning to do so you erased one of the pains from Mavyn’s future. ”
She shakes her head and takes another step back. Everything around me clouds as my vison zeros in on her. On Esmirra of Ebony, the Bone Witch of Legend.
“You knew about the sun devil and the curses that would be placed on Mavyn and the pain he would inflict. You knew. . . and you wanted it to happen. All in the name of suppressing Mavyn’s true power.”
The witch chokes as she tries to scream ‘no’. Her back hunching as she curls her shoulders in. Making her appear smaller than this form already is. Looking as weak and pathetic as she’s said Mavyn is.
I could almost feel bad for her. . . but I would be feeling bad about someone who allowed a child to be tortured and molested and raped – despite what Mavyn will say about the technicalities – and cursed to remember every single thing that happened for the rest of her life.
A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn my head to see the side of Mavyn’s. She doesn’t look at me or say anything as she keeps watching the witch. And when I turn back to look at Esmirra I find her no longer curled in on herself.
Her back is straight, her face is blank except for her eyes slightly narrowed, and her aura is coiled around her but her scent becomes overpowering.
“It was for your own good.”
Mavyn’s hand tightens on my shoulder before I’m able to move. Letting me know to stay where I am because I don’t care how old she is or how much power she has, I would kill her right now.
“You did not answer Jullia. When have I ever truly lost control?”
She’s quiet beside me, steady and solemn, with her eyes a soft pink and her aura and scent barely there.
Esmirra does not balk and even has the nerve to tip her chin up as though she’s wanting to look down her nose at us. “Syngenia killed every living thing on Miy once. It took the gods a century to restore this world.”
“I am not Syngenia.”
Esmirra’s upper lips twitches. “Her soul is within you.”
“And how would you know?” A presence begins drifting that makes the temperature drop even more. It even chills me and my bones. “You cannot see my soul.”
Esmirra jerks her head so she doesn’t have to look at us as she scoffs. Her line of sight hits Mavyn’s fated and she slits her eyes to Darian.
“But he has,” she snaps. “So tell us, boy, what is her soul?”
Mavyn doesn’t move or flinch from Esmirra as I notice Darian staring at Mavyn.
I’m pretty sure their eyes have not left her this whole time.
I wonder what he has seen. I don’t exactly know what a soul-rendering true form is, all Mavyn has said is that Darian can see her soul.
He can touch, manipulate, and move souls. He knows the truth.
Darian’s icy eyes flick to the witch before going back to Mavyn.
With Scorn in my peripheral, I wonder why Darian has never shown his wings.
There are only three angel’s in attendance here including Darian and Scorn, but even the few times I’ve seen the third one his wings have been out.
Usually it’s the devils who keep their wings hidden.
“Her soul,” he slowly says, but there’s a rough edge to his tone that makes me want to curl up and out of his sight, “is mine.”
Oh shit, I did not expect him to say that.
Neither did Mavyn because she makes a disbelieving sound in the back of her throat and her head rears back.
“That was hot,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth to Mavyn.
She shushes me as she takes her hand and crosses her arms. “Can we be done here? I’m hungry.”
“Actually. . .” And we all turn towards the Dean still with everyone further back and behind.
Everyone still here and watching the spectacle.
The Dean approaches us and his eyes stay away from Mavyn’s.
“Due to this new. . . information, I believe we need an audience with the Mage Board in order to determine what will happen next.”
“What happens next,” I snap, “is we finish out this school year. We have just under a month until finals and our presentation to the Mage Board. Nothing has changed and – “
“And she is something none of us have been confronted with in this present era,” the Dean interrupts.
I shut my mouth and cross my arms like Mavyn is.
“From what I have experienced, she is more powerful than Kolasi, a devil one with his true form. There is a reason devils and angels are executed if they reveal their true forms. Nothing is more powerful than them.”
“In this universe,” I mutter under my breath. Mavyn subtly nudges me and when I glance at her there’s a ghost of a smile on her face.
“Can this meeting be held when the first years need to present their Magic History projects?”
We all turn towards Callahan with his sweet nature and golden puppy energy. Except it’s been lacking recently and everyone has noticed. Snide remarks about Mavyn and how much of a bitch she is to him when he has been nothing but kind.
I hurt for the devil because in a sense it isn’t really his fault, and yet his fate and what his true form will do to Mavyn does make it his fault.
The unfairness to beings with conflicting spirits, souls, morals, and fates.
The Dean contemplates and in reality what’s one more month. After this display it’s unlikely the rebels will attack again. This is the third time they’ve made it out alive and not because they’re winning at anything.
Mavyn is letting them live.
I point a glare at said Kolasi Mavyn can dominate and he raises a brow in challenge at me. It’s almost disturbing how similar he and the professor look.
“I think that is acceptable,” the Dean finally answers.
Esmirra scoffs as she turns and stomps away. The crowd parts for her and then they bolt as the Dean yells at them all to find something productive to do. With a last glance at Mavyn, he turns away too.
Mavyn finally relaxes and I’d lean into her if we weren’t both wearing the gym clothes. Still, her presence right beside me eases me and it’s like it always is.
“I want ramen,” I whisper and she hums.
Turning to me, her face softens. “Ramen sounds good.” Then her face winces. “Right after I see a healer so they can fix all my broken bones.”
Panic seizes me.
“Fucking shit!” I hiss. Running my hands over my face, adrenaline flushes with me wanting to do something. “Let’s go! Do you need someone to carry you? A stretcher? Oh goddesses, you should not even be standing. Sit down, now!”
I’m still rambling, not fully aware of what I’m saying as my best friend chuckles. But she folds herself into the snow beneath her feet and then passes out.