WHITE DARKNESS - BLACK MAGIC SAGA - BOOK 1

KILLING BREATHS

“Happy birthday, Freya!”

It was the middle of the night of the 1st of October, and the whole group of friends had reunited in the girl’s dormitory to give her a surprise. She had gone to the bathroom and Thea had given their friends the signal to enter the dormitory and decorate as fast as possible before Freya got out from the loo. Freya’s hand flew to her chest, scared by so many voices at once, “Gods’ sake! You nearly scared me to death!”

Thea was the first to throw herself at her best friend, who embraced her dearly. “Don’t be such a grump!” she laughed. “It’s your birthday!”

“I was sleeping, thank you very much,” said Freya before receiving Lhu’s hug. “Where are my presents?”

“Oh, this material b***h!” exclaimed Rhazel in a high-pitched voice holding one of the biggest presents. “You know, the majority of people appreciate their friends more than presents.”

“Shut up, Rhaz,” chuckled Freya before receiving her gift and opening it. “Oh, you didn’t!”

“Had to send my elves all way to Estresya to find someone to make it but I—”

At that moment, Freya threw herself at him in a hug before giving little jumps on the floor.

The stand scarabattola was made of crystal, diamonds and gold all over it. Inside of it was the figure of Freya, the queen of the gods and goddesses and the woman their friend had been named after. The goddess, made of porcelain, had her arms extended and looking down, was standing under a rain of starts and rainbows, shadow coming from below while the figures of the other gods came from it, trying to catch a bit of the fabric covering the queen of gods and her almightiness. It was a unique piece just like her.

“Wait, now my present seems nothing compared to yours!” complained Mason giving Freya a velvet rectangular box, inside of it the finest necklace made of diamonds and sapphires which were as clear as the girl’s eyes.

Leevanna shook her head while smiling as she saw Rhazel and Mason fight for whom had the best present for Freya before approaching her. “You told me you wanted them but here they don’t make them, so I asked one of my aunts if in Pietra they had it,” she said shrugging. Two big rolls of damask and cashmere fabric made with gold threads were Leevanna’s gift. One was emerald and the other a deep shade of purple. Freya’s eyes shone in mesmerisation for the fabrics before her.

“She definitely wins,” said Lhu with a grin seeing how Freya was almost about to cry while caressing the soft fabrics.

“I’m not hugging you, but this is the best present ever,” said Freya towards Leevanna, who gave her a closed-mouth smile and nodded, agreeing that physical contact was out of the list. It was for the best, they knew.

“Well, who wants to party?!” exclaimed Rhazel taking two bottles of Flower Shot, an alcoholic drink made of Raspberry Stardust and Black Brandy. The whole group cheered and Lhu started to charm the room so no noise could leak through the door, and they could celebrate in peace. Thea put on some music they liked and started dancing as she and Leevanna accommodated the sweets and different appetizers she had brought. The boys had brough themselves each two bottles of different liquors. Mason bringing Naullina Whiskey and Issenti Wine, and Eisdrache Fire Wine, which was a stronger type of it. Lhu was giving her present to Freya before helping her arrange various beanbags like a circle while Rhazel did a strange kind of dance.

“What on earth are you doing mate?” laughed Mason before sipping on his whiskey.

“It called having fun,” said Rhazel with a smirk before he poured himself more Flower Shot. Leevanna’s eyes went to the bottle her friend was holding, she had never tasted that kind of liquor before, she just liked Issenti Wine, which was sweet and tasted like ripe cherries.

“Does it taste good?” she asked to Rhazel, who looked at her for a second. He knew she didn’t drink much and the liquor he was taking was a much stronger than her usual wine.

“It is kind of sweet because of the Brandy,” he answered her. “But the Stardust makes it a bit bitter at the end, it burns your throat a little bit.”

“Can I — Can I have some?” coyly, her finger pointed the bottle.

“You sure princess? This is not as sweet as your wine,” Rhazel warned her. “And the bitter at the end makes you seek the sweet with each sip. It can fool you.”

“It’s a man’s liquor Vaughan,” said Eisdrache Vailant with his goblet of Fire Wine near his mouth. His head resting on his fist. He smirked at her and said, “And you’re a woman.”

Leevanna narrowed her eyes at him.

“Pour me some, Rhaz.”

Eisdrache’s eyes remained on hers, defiantly smug.

Rhazel alternated his gaze between the two for a couple of seconds, then shrugged and grabbed Leevanna’s goblet to pour her some of the liquor he had been drinking a few seconds ago. The jade eyes of the girl stared at her reflection on the liquor. Sure it wouldn’t be as bad. If Rhazel could, she could. Besides, supposedly Fire Wine was also only for men, and she had seen Freya down half a bottle in half an hour without complaining. And she wanted to give Vailant a reason to shut up his chauvinism towards her.

She smelled the Flower Shot for a second, feeling the raspberry mixed with the Black Brandy invade her nostrils. Avoiding to cough at the strong smell, she drank all the liquor in her goblet, her eyes again on Vailant’s, who hadn’t flickered his gaze away from her. After her long sip, she swallowed, thinking it wasn’t that bad and it actually tasted good, that until it came to an end and the strong bitterness of the Stardust made her throat burn as if she had swallowed wildfire. Trying to not make any faces that could give away the sensation inside of her, she cleared her throat.

“It’s not that bad,” she said, thanking the gods for not making her voice hoarse. And to some extent it was the truth, it wasn’t horrible, but the last sensation wasn’t something she would seek again. Issenti Wine for her, thank you very much.

“A woman can do everything a man does and even more,” smiled Thea widely.

“Men are bullshit,” scoffed Freya.

“Oi!” whined Rhazel and Mason together.

All the girls laughed as the three boys started protesting on how they weren’t bullshit and certainly did not belong in the dustbin.

Two hours later, when alcohol had already kicked in and they were too pissed to even stop laughing, Leevanna was enjoying herself as much as she could, knowing that nobody would find out she had been out of curfew, not her father, not anyone. She was now laughing and had become very loving and funny. She was even letting the rest of her friends touch her, though they were too pissed with alcohol to notice that. The girls were singing and dancing with each other, enjoying being in such a fun age. Meanwhile, on the plush beanbags, Mason and Eisdrache welcomed Rhazel, who had just stopped dancing with the girls and was a bit sweaty.

“Didn’t know Leevanna could be such a dancer,” laughed Rhazel before sipping his goblet of Flower Shot, he was out of breath, the girls had been making him dance and jump until his feet hurt, specially Leevanna.

“Everything resolves with alcohol,” joked Mason, who was next to him, the three laughed.

Eisdrache smirked against his goblet of Fire Wine, his eyes then diverted to Vaughan, who, wearing an emerald nightgown which reached her upper thighs next to a matching robe, was jumping and moving her head one side to another, making her pure white curls glide and jump at her rhythm. His thunderstorm eyes started to go down from her face to now her well-developed body. Her arms were still very thin, and her collarbones were as visible as before. Now, her chest… Eisdrache could guess she wasn’t wearing a bra, so her breasts… He looked away immediately when a soft warmth invaded his cheeks.

What was wrong with him?!

Since f*****g when he blushed because Vaughan? It was Vaughan. That b***h who made his life impossible, for holy Paradise’s sake. He wanted to kill his breaths. He was not having those thoughts about Lhu or Freya or Thea or Leah or whatever girl that passed in front of him. Yes, he was a man with necessities who found many women very pretty and even gorgeous… but Vaughan?

Fuck’s sake.

And when he felt something between his thighs growing when Vaughan dress lifted revealing the curve of her round arse, he had to separate his legs and keep a hand inside the pocket of his night trousers. Suddenly his body was warm. “f**k,” he whispered as lowly as he could trying to catch his breath. “Not for her, Gods’ sake,” and he finished the remaining alcohol from his crystal goblet.

“Mate,” called Mason who had been talking with Rhazel, but noticed the uncomfortable shifting his friend had made on his seat. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Eisdrache sighed. “Too much wine I believe,” and his eyes directed to Vaughan again.

That b***h.

His head turned to his friends, and tried to join their chinwag as best as he could, still, his mind was somewhere else that shouldn’t and couldn’t be going. Not now, not ever. Simply no. It was final.

At almost four in the morning, when the little party for Freya’s birthday ended and everyone was already sleepy enough, everyone said their goodbyes to Freya and Thea to then leave their dormitory and go to theirs.

But Eisdrache had other plans.

“You coming with us?” asked Mason dragging the words, seeing his friend stop midway. Eisdrache shook his head and showed him his pack of cigarettes. Mason nodded and continued to walk with a very pissed Rhazel who was slurring some song which had been playing before. Eisdrache turned around and started walking down the hallway of the girl’s dormitory and going towards the Vasilka common room. He thought about borrowing a book from the bookshelves the room provided, but then, remembering his cigarettes, he continued walking until he reached the second space of the common room and opened a window near him.

Minutes passed as he smoked, his gaze entertained with the variety of Ondines and Raidnes.

He scoffed when the figure of a Gryrku appeared.

And it was in that moment that footsteps were heard. He lit off the cigarette and waved his hand to disappear it in case it was a professor, but his brows furrowed when he saw the figure of someone else. Someone he certainly didn’t want to see.

Vaughan.

What could she possibly be doing outside her dormitory at this hour if the party had already ended?

His attentive gaze followed her until she sneaked away through a hidden wooden door which led to a kind of boathouse House Vasilka had the privilege to have since the Attlely Lake was surrounding their common room. He frowned. Why would she be going there? And with a towel also. It was almost a quarter to five. Standing up without making noise, he started walking in the direction of the door Vaughan had crossed a few minutes ago, giving her enough time to not notice him. And he followed her.

Meanwhile, Leevanna was sitting on the dock of the boathouse, her feet dipping in the cold water as she played with it. She was thinking about life. How lonely it is. The path of it. We are born alone; we die alone.

People betray you — the worst part that the betrayal doesn’t come from your enemies, if not from the ones you one considered friends, allies. If we think about it this way, everything is really alone. The stars, for example, they live alone in the dark page that observes us from above, separated from each other. People, however, always find a way to put them together and form constellations, but who asks the stars if they want to be together? Maybe they like the lonely life. She feels lonely.

Her eyes always catch everything around her; the little details life and nature have to offer. The animals are usually with company, they travel together. They care for their companion’s survival. Or maybe don’t? Why do people smile so often though?

What is the purpose of doing it anyway?

Does it change something? Does it make things better? She doesn’t even remember the last time a truthful smile decorated her face. It had been a long time ago, she knows. Her smiles aren’t that truthful nowadays, they don’t last to much before her lips go down again. She wonders when she would smile truthfully again. Maybe she wouldn’t do it never again. There is too much sadness in her within to do so. She likes it, being sad. Everything is blue and grey. Black and silver sometimes. She likes black, how it fades until everything is blank.

She has always seen emotions as colours.

Sometimes she sees them as numbers too.

Pain is similar to grey, like a mist around you, suffocating you while the air rasps your throat and the implores tear apart your flesh. Pain is smoke. A dark shade of grey. If it were a number would be an 8, because the shape of it, it is an infinite curve.

Sadness would be an 11, the ones are similar to the drops of tears the clouds shed. If it was a colour, it would be regalia, the shade it has in a hand-dyed fabric. It is dark but calm at the same time, feels suffocating though, if you watch it for a long time.

Fear is a wine red, similar to clotted blood. It forms a knot in your throat and doesn’t let you breathe or speak. You cannot ask for help, though you know you don’t deserve it anyway. Nobody is going to come for you. Nobody notices you. As number it would be a 7, its shape is similar to a cut.

Anger would be a dark shade of aquamarine or blue. Like the sea, you drown in it and your vision is blurry. As a number would be 81, she doesn’t know exactly why but that number makes her feel uncomfortable and angry.

It has the 8 from the pain and the 1 as a blindfold. The water though, makes her feel calm. It is weird because she associates it with anger. Maybe it is because her nightmares make her feel that way and swimming in the Attlely Lake calms her.

Calm would be colour black. It is quiet and doesn’t scare her. Everything is clearly in the dark, doesn’t have to feel or hear anything. Doesn’t have to pretend. No one can see in the dark. As a number it would be a 0, it represents nothing.

Standing up and hiding her towel on a corner, her hands grab the ends of her nightgown and start sliding up her body, and then she takes out her underwear, not noticing an attentive look from a boy who was far away from her by the other side of the boathouse. She sits again and gives a small jump to get in the water. Swimming for her is glorious, she feels complete, and being part and born from the water element gives her a sense of auto realization she cannot experience while doing something else. She submerges fully inside, her eyes open and the world under the lake takes a new glow before her. The small castle of the Raidnes giving a dim light to all the lake from the bottom of it.

The water makes a quiet sound when her head gets out from it. Her eyes open slowly, feels her lashes wet and heavy from the drops of water. The moonlight lets her see better. Her nose keeps being underwater, but that doesn’t matter.

She waits a second. There is someone else.

The silver light from the sky makes his blond hair acquire a rare glow, mixing with the dark strands. His hands are in his pockets. His head is down, lost in something he had found in the ground. She is extremely far away anyway and doesn’t plan to talk to him or let him know she is there. If she kills herself at that moment he isn’t going to notice. Her eyes move following his movement when he crouches down to catch what it seems is a plane and small stone. She doesn’t move, if he throws the stone, it’s not going to hit her. She is far away.

When he looks up, she goes down immediately. It is stupid, but she got scared.

She waits a second. Many seconds.

One stone has been thrown. She could hear the deep sound it made when it drowned at the bottom of the lake. Waits more seconds. She gets out from the water again. Just her eyes and nose. Needs to catch a bit of air. Now he is lighting a cigarette.

Bastard.

Her eyes narrow.

He has a pack of cigarettes on his hand, and he takes out one. Once he has lit the cigarette, he holds it between his index and middle finger by the side of his body while smoke leaves his mouth. It is peaceful, seeing the grey cloud leaving his mouth. Maybe something or someone has hurt him. He seems grey. His smoke is grey.

She saw his father in the morning. He gave her a bouquet of different shades of pink peonies and asked her opinion for a gift because Skarlova’s birthday was on the way. She always said to Luther that it wasn’t necessary at all, and she would do anything for him anyways. She wondered if he also gave his mum presents every day. Or if his father had said something. Not that she cared. And less if he was hurt and in pain.

But his smoke was still grey.

His eyes were watching the dark page and white dots above him. Enamoured with the dark landscape the moon painted that early morning.

And she submerges her head again to swim even more deep. Swimming in loneliness. Maybe trying to kill her breaths.