27. TWENTY SEVEN
TWENTY SEVEN
THE FOOLS JOURNEY
I must have been more exhausted than I realised, as shimmering rays of sunlight drifted through my room as I awoke. I listened to the melodic serenade of birds and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of roses wafting through the partially open balcony doors.
Days had passed since the Elorium attack, and I had spent that time drifting in and out of uneasy sleep while maids slipped in and out through the Lower Servants’ Passage with trays of food that I barely touched.
My body recovered faster than my mind. The voices still whispered at the edges of my thoughts, and every dream felt too real, as though the visions were waiting for me behind my eyelids.
Cillian hadn’t come. Not once. Not since that night. Not since I stopped him.
The memory of his warmth still lingered on my skin, a ghostly touch I couldn’t forget, no matter how hard I tried. I didn’t know if he stayed away because he was angry or fearful of how close we’d come. Perhaps he knew I needed him now and was letting me feel his absence.
Not long ago, I had felt like a prisoner here, but I was slowly adjusting to life in this strange place.
I spent my hours painting or sketching, wondering about the worlds I created.
I never could have imagined that what I once believed were merely creations on paper or canvas existed in realms beyond human comprehension.
I realised that I had changed in many ways and was adapting to the endless voices and visions I was experiencing.
The voices no longer frightened me, instead, I was intrigued and curious to learn more about the mysteries of the universe.
My fear had transformed into a desire to survive and discover who I truly was.
But beneath that curiosity lay a rising paranoia and a constant question of what was real and what was an illusion born of curses. The dreams felt like warnings, and the voices felt like truths. Yet part of me wondered if they were slowly unravelling my sanity.
Each day brought new challenges and mysteries. I learned about other races, so powerful that they could curse an entire world. Life existed elsewhere in the universe, and it was both terrifying and fascinating.
More importantly, I was no longer merely a dust mote of existence in the universe. I could hear voices and see visions. Mythological creatures lived among the stars, magic and enchantment were realities, and in the brothers’ world, I was an essential part of it.
Important or doomed. Fionn’s voice echoed in my mind, cold and certain.
She will be offered to Vareth.
He wanted me dead. He had said as much. Now that I’d seen the bones, the prison, and the Blood Moon, I knew he wasn’t lying.
I rose and wandered toward the balcony. Opening the doors, I stepped outside and admired the gorgeous Rose Court view. The trees swayed in a balmy breeze, and the fountains danced to a delightful song. I basked in the warmth on my face and felt an uplifting sense of well-being, almost joy.
But joy was dangerous. It made you forget the threat. It made you forget that your only chance of survival was to choose—and choose well. Cillian was my only hope. I needed him to want me alive, even if that meant manipulating him, even if that meant letting him believe I felt more than I did.
What was happening to me? The frightened, homesick Tilly was transforming into the Tilly of another dimension, ready to play their game to survive. Maybe it was time to realize who I truly was, rather than hiding behind an identity that didn’t honour me.
The beauty of nature beckoned me, and suddenly, I felt a strong desire to take my sketchbook and go for a walk. I realised that once I resumed my art, I wouldn’t just be drawing; I would be opening doors to my future by acknowledging my presence in the universe.
With a surge of energy, I hurried to the bathroom to get ready, as if I were rushing to catch a flight.
I could no longer bear to stay inside on such a glorious day; I needed to be out in the sunlight and fresh, fragrant air.
I wanted and needed to draw, letting the energy flow through my fingers, into the pencil, and onto the sketchpad.
I quickly dressed in casual capris and a floral top, paired with matching flats, and tied my hair back with a colourful lace ribbon to keep it out of my face. As I gathered my supplies, I was so eager to get outside that I barely noticed the shifting patterns on the tapestries.
Sunlight flooded through every window, casting an ethereal golden light along my path as I descended the stairs to the lower grounds and stepped out the door.
** *
Stepping outside felt like the warm embrace of a lover, comforting and freeing.
It was the sense of peace and blissful silence that drew me into the woods, following the path of the gently gurgling stream.
Enjoying the solitude, I walked beneath the sun-dappled canopy of trees as the stream meandered and gradually widened.
As I explored in this direction, I realised I hadn’t ventured this far before; my past trips into the woods had been mere escapes.
Interestingly, I was no longer obsessed with that escape, and a thought struck me: I wanted to test whether the barrier I had previously encountered was still there.
Recalling the beautiful overlook where I had thrown some stones to test the barrier, I returned to that spot and paused to gaze at the stunning view of the lake below the gentle slope of the hills.
I took a hesitant step forward, and then another, until I found myself beyond the point, I had previously been unable to cross.
For a moment a warmth moved through me and the mark on my head tingled.
It seemed the barrier had shifted, though I had no idea how far. I felt a change within myself and in my surroundings, drastically so. Ironically, instead of feeling compelled to run, I simply stood there, admiring the view for a few moments.
Maybe the curse was changing me. Maybe the visions were. Perhaps I was changing myself. I no longer knew and that uncertainty terrified me more than the barrier ever had.
Then my gaze settled on a scenic, tree-shaded overlook that offered a panoramic view of the water.
I continued down the slope, savouring the aroma of grass and wildflowers, until I found the perfect spot a short distance from the narrow lake.
The pristine azure water sparkled in the sun, tempting birds to dive into its depths in search of fish .
I spread out the blanket I had brought with me on the soft grass, made myself comfortable, and prepared to sketch. My fingers moved across the pad with bold, assured strokes, turning the blank paper into a living canvas within moments.
Focused on my work, I didn’t initially notice the sound of splashing nearby, thinking it was just the birds diving for fish. But when I glanced up from my sketchbook, I froze at the sight of Fionn emerging from the clear waters like a mythical water sprite, only a few meters away.
I froze, staring at his tautly muscled body.
Bronzed by the sun, his dark hair was slicked back toward his broad shoulders.
He wore only black breeches rolled high above his knees, revealing his sculpted thighs, and I tried not to let my gaze wander upward.
The last time I’d heard his voice, he had been discussing my death with Serephina.
As he turned slightly, the sunlight caught a series of pale scars slashed across his back, thin, deep lines that didn’t belong on someone like him.
Celestials could heal, I’d already seen him do it when they fought the gatemen.
Yet those scars remained on his back, as if he had been marked in a way even his kind couldn’t undo.
A thought crossed my mind, they looked almost like lashings, though I couldn’t imagine who or what he would have allowed to do that to him.
He reached for a dark tunic on the grass and pulled it on.
It was then I realised he was staring back at me intensely. That told me he knew exactly what I seen. I forced the pity down. He wanted me dead because he thought I was weak. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing any from me.
I quickly returned my attention to my drawing, but I couldn’t escape the heat of his gaze.
Despite myself, I felt a peculiar churn in my stomach. Heat rose to my face, and my heartbeat quickened. Though I sensed him moving nearby, he was still close enough for me to hear him getting dressed.
Disgusted by the reaction his presence evoked in me, I tried to focus on the scenery, the sky, anything but Fionn.
“What brings you down here so early?” he asked abruptly.
Instantly, I felt my guard rise, was this a test to see if I would try to run away? Did he simply desire a swim, or was he sent to keep an eye on me? Maybe he wanted to see if I was already breaking, if the curse was already within me, if I was becoming what he feared.
I busied myself with gathering my supplies.
Whatever his motive, I couldn’t continue to work with Fionn nearby.
I still remember the way he had spoken about me with Seraphina, coldly like I was a burden that was should be disposed of.
Feeling his scrutiny, I felt as uneasy as a rabbit in a field being stalked by a hawk.
“I wanted to do some drawing,” I said, rising to my feet and bundling up the blanket. “It’s been a while, and it helps me clear my mind.”
Irritated that my peace had been disturbed, I glanced around to see if there was another place to draw.
“If clearing your mind will hasten your decision, then that’s a blessing,” Fionn said, “but don't let me disturb you. I merely came to enjoy an early swim.”
I glanced over briefly, doing my best to look unimpressed by his scrutiny. His hair was damp, water dripping from the ends. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for a response like it was owed to him.