6. Raia Lunessa Violette Vale
RAIA LUNESSA VIOLETTE VALE
Tap, tap, tap. Already knowing who it is, a grin lights up my face even before I turn to see my raven friend, Horus—the name was mutually decided upon.
My fingers are swift to unlock the window where he waits, hopping in anticipation as the wood frame squeaks open.
A small pebble—so very near the same shade of lilac as my eyes—drops from his beak onto the sill as he coos in greeting, making my heart trill with gratitude.
“Thank you, dear friend.”
Dark, intelligent eyes observe me as he nuzzles my hand. The nictitating membrane of his eyes slowly closes as he watches me. I read somewhere that it’s a sign of trust and affection. Seeing it makes sweet emotion swell further. “Love you.”
My finger strokes the back of his neck, marked by a shock of white feathers as he mimics my words in a surprisingly soft, deep voice. “Love you.”
That’s all it takes for my nine-year-old chest to explode with too much love for my tiny heart to hold. Horus clicks and coos, nuzzling and nipping gently at me with his beak as tears burn my eyes.
“I brought gifts for you too.”
The feathers at the back of his neck rise as he trembles with excitement and coos again.
Reaching into my pocket, I inwardly cringe as my fingers curl around the dead mouse I found in the shared hallway of our apartment building.
I present it to my friend and set it on the windowsill.
Horus gives me a few happy clicks before he lowers his head to my hand for pets.
“And don’t think I forgot about your dessert. I’m not a monster.”
I retrieve the few grape halves I saved for him from my lunch and offer them to him in my upturned palm. His feathers flare and shudder as he clicks before swiftly snatching them from me, swiftly gulping each one down, all manners and dining etiquette abandoned.
A giggle bubbles out of me.
Until my mother opens our shared bedroom door.
“Violette, darling–”
Her words are cut short at the sight of the raven. “Raia Violette, what did I say about—” Horus caws loudly, flapping his wings in aggravation before snatching up the mouse and flying away.
A scowl etches my face by the time I turn back towards her. “You scared him away.”
My mother’s expression softens. “Your father is about to arrive. You must be on your best behavior.” Her eyes examine me, brow furrowing.
“Where’s your brush? We need to tame that rat’s nest.” My mother’s hand ushers me swiftly into the small wash cabinet of our apartment to stand in front of the dull, tarnished mirror.
My teeth grind together as she picks up our brush and begins to tear through my locks. “Ow!”
“Hush, Vi. We only have a few minutes, and you know how much it upsets him when he sees you looking like a feral gangalarus.”
The yanking of the blasted hairbrush knocks against the nubs of my tender, growing horns, making me growl. “I wish I were a gangalarus. Then I could breathe fire and have foot-long claws to ensure I was never hungry or harmed.”
My mother’s lips purse as if to hide her grin.
“And I’d have beautiful, puffy fur that never needed taming. I could splash around in the mud, climb trees, and tear my prey limb from limb. I’d be beautiful and powerful.”
Mouth twitching, her eyes remain serious. “Oh, my sweet, but you already are.”
One day, I pray.
“So if you could be any animal, that’s what you’d be? A gangalarus?”
My brows tense with consideration.
This is a very important question.
I’ve studied just about every known beast in our realm.
“No. I think a chimaera would be the best animal anyone could ever be.”
Her brow arches as her grin gives way a little more.
“The fae-kind? Or the beings that are so wild and craven, they’ve lost their tamed forms forever?”
A grin splits my face so wide my cheeks ache. “The wild kind.”
My mother finally allows herself a small smile. “I met one once...”
My eyes go wide in awe. “Really?”
She nods gravely. “Yes, she was a queen... A long, long time ago.”
A queen.
As if my mother can read my mind, her eyes meet mine in the mirror in front of us. “And not by a king either. She was a queen who took the throne. By her own power.”
My eyes round and my lips part.
“What happened to her?”
“She succumbed to her beast... Just like me?—”
My mother lets out an inhuman roar and buries her face in my neck as she pretends to devour me. Peals of laughter escape me as she scoops me into her arms, careful of my delicate wings and slender tail, and pins me to the ground to tickle me until I can’t breathe.
After a few moments, her hands still before she swipes a finger across the end of my nose. “We haven’t got much time, Violette. Let’s wash your face, braid your hair, and put on the green dress he got you?—”
“But I hate that dress, it’s so uncomf?—”
The jolt of her raised voice makes me start.
“Hush, Raia Violette! This is important!”
“Why does it even matter? If he doesn’t care enough to even live with us, then why would he care about what clothes I wear?”
My mother’s jaw works as she bends to take my head in her hands.
“He does care, Violette. More than you know. He just...”
Her words drift as if trying to find the right ones.
“Your father is… unwell.”
She looks like she regrets the words as soon as she speaks them.
I rear back. “He never looks sick to me.”
Her expression tightens as she pauses. Desperation leadens her gaze as it bounces between each of my eyes.
“Not all illnesses can be seen, darling.”
A thread of concern weasels its way into my heart.
“Shouldn’t we help him then?”
The suggestion seems to stress my mother out even more.
“More than anything, I wish we could.”
Frustration burns through me.
My mother strokes back my hair. “I promise you it’s better this way.”
Swiping away angry tears, my words are a tremulous whisper.
“I don’t understand how it could possibly be better to grow up without a father.”
My mother’s eyes glisten. “Darling... One day, you’ll understand.”
I don’t understand any of this, and I’m too angry and heartbroken to care because the result is the same.
Tears stream down my cheeks as she presses a kiss to my forehead, and my lower lip trembles. “I hate him.”
“Don’t say such things. You have more in common with him than you think.”
“Take it back! I hate him, I do. He treats you horribly, even though he’s supposed to be your soulbound, and just because I’m a youngling doesn’t mean I don’t see that you deserve better.”
My mother’s expression tightens.
“I read in a book that where syriths come from, I wouldn’t even have to wear this ugly fucking dress. I would get to run through the forest, almost naked, with magical jewels in my hair, and the bones and teeth of my enemies hanging from around my neck.”
Even to my pre-pubescent mind, it’s clear the look on my mother’s face is nothing short of heartbreak. Even greater than that of my father’s absence, this is the wound my mother refuses to acknowledge. Her eyes glisten as she wipes away the furious tears streaking my cheeks.
“Why can’t we just go live with the other syriths? It’s not like my father would miss us. Don’t we have family? Where are they?”
The word family causes my mother to withdraw entirely. The tears in her eyes dry, along with any vulnerability. She stands, looking down at me with grim resolution.
“Safe.”
The chime of the doorbell feels like a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head.
Smoothing down her dress, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the gold conch-shell necklace my father gave me when I was too little to remember.
She drapes it around my neck and fastens the clasp.
My skin prickles beneath, making me itch.
She always makes me wear it anyway, so I don’t bother arguing.
“When I grow up, I don’t want a soulbound.”
Her words are a sad whisper, more to herself than anyone else. Eyes full of grief, they reveal the detritus of her broken heart. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
Shaking my head, the ever-present lead weight of disappointment in my belly sinks further. “I don’t know why you wait around for him.”
My mother gives me a pitying smile that tells me I know very little of reality. “Nothing I do is for him, Violette. Everything I do is to protect you... And your father is my soulbound. I couldn’t be with anyone else even if I tried.”
Shutting the door behind her, she leaves me and my nine-year-old brain to stew over information I can’t fully grasp yet.
Peeking around our bedroom door, I find my parents standing in front of our old, lumpy couch speaking in hushed, urgent tones.
“—belongs nowhere near Sinsól. Especially when you’re off waging a war with every continent in the realm.”
The furious look on my father’s face makes my stomach clench in fear as his lips curl over his teeth. Before he can reply, my mother’s eyes slide to mine.
“Raia, come give your father a hug. He brought you a gift.”
She only ever calls me by my first name alone in front of him.
My father’s expression immediately shifts into a mask of calm.
My stomach is in knots as this male—the God of the Sea—finally turns and sets his eyes on me. Their pools are a dark gray veined with silver that reminds me of a storm above a cold and unforgiving sea.
It makes my skin crawl.
How is my mother soulbound to this male?
It doesn’t take much effort for my blossoming magic to reveal the tether binding their souls—a cord of light.
Gag.
Why him?
Offering me one large, scarred hand, a fangy smile splits his face, and it reminds me of a shark widening its maw just before devouring its prey.
My mother’s gaze hardens—a stark contrast to the too-wide smile plastered on her face—urging me forward. My heart is in my throat as I force one foot in front of the other.
His resonant voice has every hair on my body rising to a screeching stand.
“My beautiful daughter. I’ve missed you so much.”
Just as I’m about to muster the courage to place my hand in his—even if it makes me want to jump out of my skin—an enormous, glowing, gold filigree egg appears in his palm.
It unfurls in many intricately detailed metal and colorful enamel layers to reveal a sable-haired mermaid perched alone on a rock.
Tinkling, yet impossibly melancholy music begins to play.
A scene unfolds within.
Dark enamel waves rush towards the mermaid, as twin suns gradually lower behind her, and metal birds fly across the horizon.
It is, without a doubt, the most glorious thing I have ever seen.
I want to be this mermaid.
Beautiful.
Alone.
And, most importantly, free.
Free from males, or any need to worry about caste, kind, class, or money.
Just alone, wild, and free.
My eyes burn as a tiny spark of hope bursts to life inside me. Perhaps I’ve misjudged my father. Surely, only love would inspire him to bestow such a beautiful gift upon me.
“Do you like it?”
There seems to be genuine hope in his eyes as he waits for my reply.
This gift is the tiny breadcrumb of love that I have so desperately needed from him. My throat struggles against a ball of emotion. “I love it more than anything.”
He gives me another smile—this time one that actually reaches his eyes.
From beside him, the smile on my mother’s face also softens to something genuine and filled with an emotion that mirrors my own.
Her arm wraps around one large bicep, the fingers of her other hand weaving between his as she presses a tender kiss to his cheek and murmurs against him, “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Abyrion.”
Tension returns to his face as he untangles his hand from hers to pull her under his arm. “Of course...” Angling his head towards her and lowering his voice, he adds, “If only you would accept more.”
My mother stiffens beneath the weight of his arm. “How long do we have you for?”
My father frowns. “A few hours, perhaps, before we have to depart.”
And now I hate him again.