Chapter 7 -ANASTASIA
1119 Words
I am left in the cave alone, after the initiation. The whispers still linger, the many discussions of today’s events. Maybe even debates to whether I was in the right to sentence little Ari to death. They may not realize it but I had noticed their accusing glances, many of them even thinking that I had been too harsh. That I should have spared her…
And I could have
I am unruffled by the sudden thought that popped into my head. Guilt does not spread inside my heart. If I had spared her… let her magic drain out and die…let her die as she would have without feeding off blood and flesh… more would be inspired to take the moral high ground. More Witches would starve themselves and die. And soon…there will be too little. And the grand fairy in her palace of mirrors would swoop down and murder all who are left.
I will not let that happen
I look down at the huge cauldron which is now empty. The tiny piece of ribbon remains. I try to remember the child to whom it belonged. I can’t. There were too many. Too many…
When does it stop?
I sit down beside the cauldron, my finger running through my hair. It feels like dead leaves…Several strands break off between my fingers. Even before I bring them towards my nostrils, I smell the rot. I think of how long it had been since I looked into a mirror. What is my face like now? Is it all peeling b****y skin and rotting green flesh? Or is there something left of who I once was? The beauty I was so proud of?
Anastasia…
It had been too long since I used that name. My hand goes to my back. Even though the thick black fabric of my dress, I can feel them. Two big scars where my wings had been cut off. Siren’s magic had been thorough. Anastasia was no longer a fairy. Without her magic, she should have died in the woods, slowly, turned grey and cold.
That would have been better
“No…” I whisper to no one in particular. Yes…I am a monster. A bitter, wounded monster who wants to watch the entire Dreamscape erupt in flames. That had been the cost. The cost of living. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I am not one of those hopelessly naïve souls who would go on and on about how it would have been better to die than become what I’ve become.
“Head Witch? We should be…” I hear her, as of from far away. Lost in the memories of that night.
“What do you want, Luna?”
She adjusts her hat. Even in the dim light of the candles, I can see the worms crawling through her face, feasting on rotting flesh. Red marks stain her huge grey eyes. She had taken off her Glimmer…
“So have you.” She tells me, reading my thoughts.
I open my mouth, instantly flinching at the smell of decay. Then I shake my head and take a deep breath and close my eyes. Magic settles around me like a sparkling, silver blanket. When I open my eyes and look down at my hands, my skin is a smooth pale green. My nails are clean and normal.
“I take it that you won’t look at me unless I do the same thing,” Luna says, her expression unreadable. Grief emanates from her like a horrible creature, ready to strangle me to death.
“I haven’t looked in a mirror for many many years,” I say, my eyes still fixed on her. “Why do you think that is?”
“You don’t like who you have become?” Her voice is monotone. “You don’t want to remember what happened to you?”
“No…” I say simply. “I like that I am alive. I like that despite everything that she’s done, Siren didn’t ger to kill me.”
“Then why…”
“I was beautiful,” I say, my gaze shifting to the shadows on the stone walls. “I never used to tie up my hair because I enjoyed everyone looking at it. Envying me…” I laugh. “Yes. I was vain and proud. I still am. And I know that the moment I see myself in a mirror, I will long to be who I was…I will cry for the me that was lost…”
Luna was looking at me incredulously and I do not blame her. The Head Witch, who just happens to be so weak that she would break down once she sees her face in the mirror just because she is too shallow to admit that she is no longer beautiful. It’s laughable …
“Did you have amber eyes?” The question startles me because all I expected from her was a snort of disgust and maybe some cruel words. Especially after what I made her do today. For one moment, I stare at her blankly.
“Were your eyes amber?” She asks again, her expression neutral, even though I could feel her grief like an approaching storm. “They are still amber…”
“There were only two fairies with amber eyes and red hair.” I smile slightly, remembering her…Her little fingers grasping at air, her eyes screwed up in concentration, trying to perform her first spell. Thick, unmanageable red hair, kept flying into her pretty eyes. “We were from red roses, although hundreds of years apart.”
“Was she to you what Ari is to me?”
“I am sorry about Ari…But sometimes things just have to be done.”
“Is that all the excuse you have got for taking her away from me?”
I sigh, feeling the intensity of her quiet anger. Tears glinted in her eyes. My heart aches reluctantly. I want to tell her that I know how she feels. I know what it means to try and shield a dear one against danger only to be dragged away and torn apart. I know what it means to hurt and hurt to the point that death feels like a welcoming mother’s arms. But I don’t speak. What good would it do to expose carefully hidden bandaged wounds? Pain is a gap in the armour that shouldn’t be exposed to friend or foe.
“I see that you have got no answer.” She says, slowly turning away. “And I just have to deal with my pain. Just like always.”
I don’t stop her as she walks away. No words of comfort fall from my lips. Maybe that makes me a monster. Maybe that makes me cold and heartless. I would rather be all those things that let them all die. We were the result of the twisted darkness inside Siren. The downtrodden. The ones deprived of the magic that is essential for survival. And we will rise.
It is time to leave. To meet Siren and beat her in her twisted mind games.
- Writer
