Chapter 11
My legs tremble as I struggle back to the inn on muscles screeching for rest. My name drifts on the breeze. I drag my eyes up from the ground. Someone is running from outside the pub across the street. Violet eyes pierce me in the darkness.
Oh, she is running at me.
Winx leaps onto me with a spinning hug, unabashedly blazing through my boundaries. I freeze, not quite sure what to do. I’m not the touchy-feely type—and I’m definitely not one for public displays of affection.
She lets go, finally sensing my tense body. She clearly disregarded my lack of smile today, and based on her greeting, she mistakenly thinks our night of pleasure is more than a one-night stand.
“You’re alive!” Winx exclaims, bright eyes flaring.
“Yeah… I think so,” I mutter as I look down at my body. Yep, it's mostly intact, although I don't think I can say the same about my mind.
“Everyone is talking about how you defeated that Pykavow. And I mean everyone. I think I even saw a slightly impressed glimmer in my dad’s eyes—that or some dirt got in there—before he slinked off.
Ya never know with him.” Violet flames spark in her irises with an envious glint.
A craving for her father to look at her the same. No wonder she wants to torch him.
“Uh, thanks, I think?”
“You need to come celebrate with us! Come on, come on, come on!” She beckons, trying to snatch my unbroken hand before I jerk it away.
“I really should get to bed. It was a long day,” I grumble, wanting to be left the fuck alone.
“I am not taking no for an answer!” she squeals, snatching my wrist and dragging me into the pub with such fervor, I don’t even get to reply. Shaking my head, I accept the truth of her previous statement. Something tells me it’s never been one of her strong suits.
The pub roars with hollering and singing drunk Fae while I gag on the scent of piss and ale. I just want to go to bed. Before I know it, there’s a shot in my hand. Then everyone is cheering.
“Drink, drink, drink!”
Well… I guess this will help ease the pain in my hand until I can see Kanuvi in the morning. Bottoms up.
And, likely through some deranged form of enchantment magic, there’s another shot in my hand, and another, and another…
My eyes pop up, awaking in a strange bed.
Based on the moon’s position out the window, it’s sometime around three in the morning.
I am not alone in my debauchery, accompanied by two females, a male, and a splitting headache.
What the fuck did I get myself into last night?
I can’t even make out their subspecies in the dark.
I groan at my poor choices, stumbling into my clothes before lurching across town to my room at the inn.
Puking my guts up all along the way. I roll into bed, twisting and turning, unable to fall into the peaceful slumber I crave.
Sully’s warped, distorted words echo in my mind, mincing deeper, maggots savoring the festering rot.
You can never love or be loved.
You have no soul.
No heart.
Anyone close to you dies.
You are a curse.
You beckon darkness to consume everything you hold dear.
I can’t stand the racket in my own mind. Each time it’s repeated, the words squirm—munching deeper and deeper—my remaining sanity slowly putrefying. So, despite my aching body’s lingering protests, I settle on going for a walk. Maybe some fresh air can temper my noxious thoughts.
As I saunter down the street, the hairs on my neck prickle. The shadows shift behind me, almost imperceptibly. Ever so slowly, I ease out my dagger. The shadows swell, growing closer. I lunge at them, my eyes widening as I pin S?las against the wall with a dagger to his neck. Again.
“We really need to stop meeting like this. Is this how you greet all your friends?” his smoky voice purrs with a devilish smirk to it.
Amber and spruce bludgeon my next snarling inhale.
I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to breathe deeper, to indulge his smell and the comforting memories of the Mysticwoods it elicits.
If this scent had come from anyone else, I would have gladly wrapped them around me.
Surprisingly, the unrelenting torment of my mind quiets in his presence.
“You’re the one lurking. And we are not friends,” I hiss.
“Sheesh, tough crowd. I’ll settle for acquaintances then,” he muses.
There’s that senseless electricity in the air between us, and I fucking hate it. The ache in my chest soars and eases all at the same time when I look at him. Like he holds the ability to soothe the hurricane of my broken soul. If only.
His shadows swirl around me. An odd, aching sensation lingers in their echoes, like they're tugging my ribs apart, cracking my chest wide open, searching for my heart. Well, he can’t have it…
There’s nothing fucking left. An exasperated sigh mashes my lungs, mind muddled by whatever oscillates between us.
Celestials, why couldn’t it just be lust?
Lust is simple. Lust I can fuck away, but whatever eddies between us feels anything but simple. And I want nothing to do with it.
I want absolutely nothing to do with him tugging at things he has no right to when I barely know him. Speaking of which, I also don’t want to know him. Not now. Not ever.
I don’t want to feel anything. I want to be numb. I want him gone before I let my darkness out to silence him for good.
I snarl my upper lip at him. “Stop following me, and go find someone else to bother.”
My words summon his hand, rubbing at his chest again. That spot seems to bother him quite often. Maybe he should see a healer about that.
His hand drops, a cocky smirk kissing his insufferable lips once more. “Why would I do that when you’re clearly the most interesting person to bother?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m not in the mood for whatever game you are trying to play with me.” I spin, striding away from him.
He follows me. Of fucking course, he does.
“Stop making a scene at every trial, and maybe you won’t be so intriguing.”
“Are the females you like normally into this strange stalking behavior?”
“Hmm. I believe they call it dark and mysterious,” he croons.
“Pfft. Mysterious is playing hard to get. You’re more like a gnat that won’t stop hovering.”
“Ouch. Ladies and gents, she’s a feisty one.” He extends his arms out as if speaking to an invisible crowd. Stars above, he is full of himself.
“Buzz off, would ya?” I wave my hand dismissively.
“And she’s got jokes. C’mon, where would the fun be if I left now?” he asks, appearing out of the shadows next to me.
“I don’t know, wherever the fuck you’re not.”
“Someone’s in a bad mood. You seemed much happier when you were dancing on top of the bar tonight.
And leaving with what appeared to be several romantic liaisons.
” His eyes seem to darken at those last words as he slips his hands into his pockets.
The shadow prick can fuck right off; he doesn’t get to judge me.
Or perhaps that’s a flash of jealousy in those stormy eyes?
No. Absolutely not. I shake the thought from my head, hoping to also rattle back my common sense.
“Winx got me obliterated. I don’t even remember what happened. Was she there when I left?”
“No, Chet dragged her off. I don’t think he wanted to take the chance of you stealing his thunder again.” He winks, but his mask falters, revealing an unexpected melancholy. Expertly, I chuck those nipping feelings right out my fractured mosaic window, because the fuck am I touching that.
I opt to focus on my rage, a safer emotion if I am going to have to feel shit, growling, “Just because they’re possibly a Bloodline pairing doesn’t mean he owns her.”
“I agree. But try telling that to the male whose father is a cousin to the queen and whose mother is commander of the Golden Legion.”
“Entitled Ritherin-shit.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And I’m on his hit list. Great. Should make for a thrilling Universitás experience.”
“You sure know how to piss off the right people. Don’t worry, I’m taking notes.”
“Are you always this annoying?”
“Only when you make it so much fun.” He smirks.
“You’re being really frustrating, and not in the sexy kind of way.”
“Disappointing. I normally aim to please,” he says with a roguish tone, kicking up his brow.
Celestials, he’s sexy, but I’m not in the mood for his shenanigans. Not now. Not ever. He’s a liability waiting to happen with how my shields melt around him.
The air is uncomfortably thick. The energy between us curling around my chest. Needling between my ribs, searching for a way into my glacial palace.
Prying at the vulnerable parts I keep hidden.
But all he’ll find are broken bits. Too jagged, too small to ever foolishly hope to fit back together.
Maybe I should let him in. Let him tear through the ruin of me—if only to watch him bleed, gutting himself on my shattered remnants.
Yet even my frozen wasteland is too vulnerable and raw for me to expose.
I shove and cram all this Ritherin-shit he’s dredged up straight out my mosaic window—more panes fracture, splintering under the weight of everything unfelt.
I roll my shoulder, sending the burden slipping off my icy facade.
“You have a strange way of flirting, has anyone ever told you that?” I scoff.
“Oh, trust me, this isn’t flirting. You’ll know when I’m flirting with you.” The shadows in his eyes whip violently as his gaze collides with mine.
Nope, not tonight. He’s not going to charm me again with those eyes. My focus darting straight down to my feet.
“You hide your sadness well, behind that mask of yours.”
“It’s none of your damn business,” I growl low with warning.
“True. But there is no one else around. I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Talk? To you? After I asked you several times to bugger off?” A humorless laugh laced with venom seeps from my lips. Who does he think he is, asking me to bare my soul to him? My darkness would send even his shadows cowering for the light.
“Well, I couldn’t let you walk the streets at night alone.”
My humorous laugh becomes sarcastic. “You saw what happened today. Do you really think I need you to protect me?”
“Valid point.” His hand clutches at his heart, wincing as he steps back, vanishing into a plume of shadows.
Celestials be dimmed, it took him long enough to take a hint. But in the silence, there is absence—a feeling akin to loneliness. I shake the feeling from my head. I have been alone for many years in my life… before Sully.
I will survive alone again just fine. But the feeling festers in my throat, making it hard to swallow.
After showering and a quick nap, it’s mid-morning as I head to Kanuvi’s lodgings.
“Good morning. Mind mending my hand?” I greet her.
“Straight to the point. Good morning to you, too.” She places her hand on mine, spores cascading out around twinkling light.
Pain burns through my fingers as they snap back into place, the tendrils of the mycelium network weaving my bones and sinew back together.
Then, the ache from my hangover magically melts away.
“Thank you. For this, and for what you did in the woods. I can never repay you for trying.”
“He did a great service for Cascara. The least I could do was try. It’s clear he loved you very much. You’re a ferocious fighter, just like him. He is still alive, in you.”
Her words make the shattered bits of my heart hurt, but I shove the emotion out my fractured mosaic window, slapping a polite smile on my face.
“Make sure to visit him before you leave. It looks like you are well on your way to being in the next class at Gildorea,” she says softly.
I nod in thanks and leave, unable to bear the way her kind words stir the grief of my soul. She’s right, though. I should visit him before I continue on my journey towards my goal of becoming an Ellian Knight. The only thing I have left to hold on to.
I pack up all the belongings from the inn.
Warmth tickles me as I don the cloak Sully gifted to me, almost like he’s here, hugging me.
I smile before a single tear kisses my cheek.
I raise my shields up, reinforcing them.
There’s no room for grief where I’m going, while I wait for the third trial to begin.
But first, there’s something I must do. Visit the place where Sully left this world. As I walk alone in the woods, I hear something digging, right in the mushrooms that returned his bones to the earth.
I sprint at the creamy-orange creature, screaming, “Shoo, shoo!”
It turns around, looking utterly unfazed.
It’s a small, bright orange dragon with four cobalt-colored eyes and five leaf-shaped tendrils framing his head, like the points of a star.
He’s pretty adorable, with four dull-clawed paws and a long tail, whipping back and forth.
I’ve never seen or heard of a dragon with four eyes, nor one without wings, never mind one this small.
He almost looks like an overgrown salamander.
“Go on, get out of here,” I say, shooing it away once more.
It cocks its head to the side, looking at me like it’s confused. Trying to figure out what I’m saying. I let out a frustrated huff.
“You have no clue what I am saying, do you? You don’t know any better, hmm, little guy?” I sit down next to the mushrooms of Sully’s grave, trying to put them back as they were. The next thing I know, the little thing is running up my arm to the top of my head.
“What are you doing? Get off!” I snap, reaching for it on my head. It jumps and ducks over my hands, making cute chirping sounds like I’m playing a game. Then I open my bag, grab half of a sandwich, and throw it into the woods. It takes the bait and runs after the food.
Finally, some peace and quiet. I lie next to the mushrooms, talking to them as if Sully is still here, recounting yesterday. Leaving out the part about where I woke up later that night.
Then there’s a sad silence. I am alone. Sully isn’t coming back. My mosaic window shatters, the hurt flooding in, crashing me beneath an infinite tidal wave of grief. A wave I cannot fight, only succumb to. I lie there, crying until my chest aches. Until I can’t breathe. Until I’m drowning.
“Goodbye.”
I leave a piece of me with him as I close my bag.
The rest is up to me.
Me, alone.