Chapter 6: It’s Just a Shame
That’s All, Genesis
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Record players were wonderful inventions. Most of the time, the Vatore siblings had a minor disagreement about technology and how useful it was, but record players were on the list of things they both could agree were wonderful inventions. Lilith smiled to herself, gently setting the vinyl record on the turn table, and then setting the needle in its grooves. Caleb, reading a book across the room, smiled slightly as Fleetwood Mac began to play from the table speakers, and Lilith smiled even brighter. Very few things put her in a good mood, after all, and seeing her in a good mood consequently put Caleb in a good mood.
When they were kids, Lilith had more of an emotional range. Caleb remembered her being a sassy little girl, intelligent enough to outwit very powerful men that were supposed to be well-educated. Caleb loved it when she did that, but others didn’t take so kindly to it. Caleb wasn’t stupid. He could figure it out.
He wished he was stupid, sometimes.
“Fleetwood Mac is one of those bands that never gets old,” Lilith said with a sigh, settling down on the couch. She was going through their photo albums, arranging the pictures in them so that they had labels and were in vague chronological order. Lilith remembered so very little, that things like that mattered to her. There were a few pictures of the Embers in there, too, some of Drake. They still didn’t know if they were blood related to one another, but that didn’t matter much. The Vatores and the Embers had adopted one another.
“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “Their songs are definitely repeatable.”
“I’m so glad you’re nothing like Vladislaus,” Lilith said, snorting softly.
Caleb arched an eyebrow, glancing at his sister over the edge of his book. “What did Vladislaus do now?” he asked.
“Why do you assume he did something?” Lilith asked.
“You never complain about Vlad unless he’s upset you somehow.”
That wasn’t true. Was it? It wasn’t like Lilith thought about it too much. Most of the time, she hardly remembered her own reactions to anything. It was strange, and Caleb occasionally seemed a little concerned about it, but Lilith never was. It was life, that was all. She’d gotten used to it, and sooner or later, so would he. Vlad hardly bothered her, either. Sometimes he was annoying, but whenever she felt annoyance at him, it was very barely. Most of the time, when Lilith felt something, it was very barely.
“You know something’s going on,” Lilith said. “I went to talk to Vlad about it, and he was, of course, very Vlad.”
Caleb loosed a snort. “I’m sure he was.”
“It annoyed me,” Lilith said, slipping a photo into one of the sleeves.
“He probably has a very good idea of what’s going on,” Caleb said.
“I know,” Lilith answered. “And it seems kind of important, don’t you think? Why would he be hiding something like that?”
“Who knows?” Caleb asked, shrugging slightly. “Vladislaus never made any sense to me in the first place. You’re the one that hangs around him the most. I’d figure he’d make more sense to you than me.”
“Sometimes,” Lilith murmured, looking for where the photo in her hand went. “Other times, he’s a grating exercise in frustration, and to say the least of it, I’m frustrated.”
Caleb loosed a sigh, setting the book down. “I know you are,” he said. “But you know how Vlad tends to be. Maybe he just thinks you’re not ready to know whatever it is that’s going on. He’s weirdly protective of the Hollow, even if he is so in strange ways.” Lilith had decided a long time ago, that if Vlad wasn’t relatively decent a vampire to exist around, then they weren’t staying here. Caleb trusted her judgement. “Maybe he thinks it’d be a distraction,” Caleb suggested. “You do tend to get overzealous about certain things.” And sometimes, those things were more or less inconsequential at the time. He loved his sister, but she had strange reactions to things, too.
“I guess,” Lilith said, setting the stack of photos on the table. “He said something about a storm coming, and that he isn’t sure who will survive it, but he hopes one of them that does is me, or something. Does that make sense to you?” Because it made absolutely none to her.
“Sure,” Caleb answered. Vlad was always fond of her, even if she was, in some ways, grating. Caleb might not like Vladislaus, but he could also see that in his way, he did care, and he did like most of his offspring. He even seemed to like Miss Hell to some extent, though she was almost completely unlikeable if one asked Caleb…
“What?” Lilith asked. “I don’t get it.”
Caleb snorted in amusement, smiling a bit. “Hey, that’s probably why he hasn’t told you anything then,” he said.
“You’re not going to explain?” Lilith asked.
“Of course I won’t,” Caleb answered. “It’s more fun to watch you flail around. I like it when you don’t get something. Makes you seem less like a super vampire.” Caleb never told her, of course, but he’d had something of an inferiority complex with her since they were kids. Becoming vampires just made it even worse, because she was even good at being a vampire, and Caleb was terrible at it. He didn’t know what he was good at, just yet. Lilith always said he was good at music, but music didn’t tend to pay the bills. Maybe it did now, it wasn’t like Caleb paid that much attention to it.
“Shut up,” Lilith said softly, rolling her eyes. She stood up, then, heading into the kitchen.
Caleb smiled to himself. He wouldn’t trade the relationship he and his sister had for anything, but sometimes, he wished she was a little more open, not with him, but with herself. Because it wasn’t Caleb that needed to understand what was in her heart, she was the one that needed to, and didn’t.
They’d had this conversation probably about fifteen thousand times by now. If it wasn’t one boyfriend that Morgyn took offence to, it was another one. Actually, in hindsight, it seemed to be damned near every boyfriend or girlfriend Ezio had ever had, though Morgyn seemed to not mind the girlfriends. Was there some kind of pattern to this? Ezio didn’t know. Ezio had two girlfriends, and four boyfriends. One girlfriend moved about three weeks after they started dating. That wasn’t much time at all, and they didn’t know one another very well by then, so it didn’t bother him much. They were decent friends, at least, so it was unfortunate to lose one of those. He thought then, even if they were just friends, he could’ve lived with ending up marrying a friend. The second girlfriend was many years later, and she decided they made better friends. She married someone else and had a family, and they’d just naturally drifted apart.
And then there were the boyfriends. One of them disappeared in quite a hurry, and Ezio had no idea Morgyn had anything to do with it, but it turned out, yep, that was Morgyn’s doing. Another one went protesting a war, and never came back. Ezio would probably never have answers for that one. The third one had relocated to Lunar Lakes… wherever that was. The fourth one Morgyn had also chased off.
The most frustrating part was that Morgyn never explained why. The blond simply inexplicably hated anyone that got anywhere near him. Unless they were Drake. Morgyn decidedly didn’t hate Drake, and Ezio was glad for that. Then again, back then, that was the only thing Ezio was willing to fight Morgyn over. Morgyn had tried to hate Drake because he was a Dussault, and Ezio had hissed over it and then had a panic attack, and apparently Morgyn had decided that was enough of a reason to try and like him. Nowadays, Ezio hissed over more things (sometimes quite literally), and it probably wasn’t as notable when he did it. And so, Morgyn still hated Jackson, no matter how many times Ezio hissed about it.
He just wanted to understand it. Ezio wasn’t unreasonable, but Morgyn wouldn’t explain.
Drake was a complication. The only person that knew him better than Drake was Morgyn, and Ezio was very aware of that. They’d been a little family, in a sense, ever since Ezio and Drake had escaped France, and things had been a little complicated at first, but they’d adjusted to it, and come to really care about each other. Ezio wouldn’t be happy anywhere else, and Drake had a strange way of making him feel… right. Among other things, and Ezio never figured out what those other things were, because they were feelings and reactions that only Drake inspired.
It was probably no wonder that, every time Ezio and Morgyn got into a fight, one or the other eventually ended up talking to Drake. He was probably more privy to their arguments and the reasons behind them than they were. Drake was reading something at the dining room table, when Ezio sat down across from it and looked up at him.
“I heard,” Drake said.
“I don’t get it,” Ezio answered. It was completely unsurprising that he’d heard already.
“You know Morgyn’s too logical for this,” Drake replied. “There’s a reason, even if Morgyn’s not exactly sharing.”
“I know that,” Ezio said. “Morgyn didn’t happen to tell you what that reason is…?”
“Of course not,” Drake replied. “Morgyn likes me, but maybe not quite that much.”
Ezio sighed, slumping against the table slightly.
“If it’s any consolation, Morgyn’s probably just afraid of hurting your feelings,” Drake said.
Ezio frowned. “It’s not like my feelings are easy to hurt,” he said.
Drake gave him a look.
“… as easy to hurt…” Admittedly, he could be awfully emotional sometimes. But Morgyn was the logical one, the one that shoved everything that might be an emotion down, stuffed them into proverbial boxes and threw them into corners to be forgotten about until Morgyn felt being depressed. Ezio couldn’t shove his emotions down. He was his emotions. He was just also very good at controlling them, now. That was a very different tale a few hundred years ago, but that time was gone now.
“You can’t make Morgyn tell you,” Drake said.
“I just want to understand.” Things were always much easier to deal with, particularly for the Embers, when those things made sense. And perhaps their lives were a constant back and forth with one Ember trying to protect the other one, but the semantics of what the other thought they needed to protect from, that was important to them. Yes, there were times Ezio had fangs and it was always for Morgyn, and there were times when he had fangs and didn’t explain what’d made him bare them, too.
Funny how the traits they shared were the ones that drove each other nuts.
“Tell Morgyn that then,” Drake said. “It’s hard to understand something when you’re not open about it. And maybe you need to show some willingness to be open before Morgyn will.”
“That’ll go great,” Ezio said.
“You never know how it’ll go until you do it.”
He supposed that was true. Drake wordlessly set the book he’d been reading neatly on the table. The light overhead flashed across the cover, throwing a rainbow at the wall for a split second. Ezio squinted from the brightness, and frowned slightly, at the sudden strong urge to reach across the table and hold onto Drake’s hand. But that was always what Ezio did when he felt lost. He held onto Drake.
“Do you hate Jackson, too?” Ezio asked quietly.
Drake was quiet, watching Ezio for a moment, and then his gaze fell to the glass table. “I don’t think it matters,” he said.
“It matters to me,” Ezio answered. “Please? I trust you. I only trust Morgyn more than I trust you, and right now I don’t know what to think about how Morgyn feels about it.” But for all that Drake was also an Ember, in his way, he was probably the most stable and level-headed of them.
Drake took a breath in, released it. “I don’t hate him,” Drake said. “But I don’t like him, no.” He never stayed very long, he seemed to be hiding something, and whenever he and Morgyn were in the same room as one another, Jackson got excited for some reason, and Drake had never figured out why, just decided he didn’t like it. Never mind that, for all that he wasn’t there long, Ezio was quieter after he’d been there, and it was getting worse over time. No. Drake decidedly did not like Jackson.
“Thank you,” Ezio said. “For being honest with me.”
Drake smiled slightly. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I won’t tell you what to do with it.”
Yes, Ezio knew that. Drake never did tell him what to do. And that was why Ezio tended to listen to him.
Ezio never stayed angry with Morgyn for too long. There was never any real concern that he’d stay angry for a notable amount of time, but truthfully, that wasn’t even his anger, anyway. Morgyn had only ever seen Ezio’s anger once, and quite frankly, nothing else before or since had been as terrifying. It wasn’t like Morgyn was going to admit that. That there was something in Ezio that terrified the blond, but it was still the truth. Instead, Morgyn was just careful how far the blond pushed Ezio. It was likely that Morgyn couldn’t push him too far, but Morgyn didn’t want to find out otherwise the hard way.
There were some things that were worth the risk, though.
Against Drake’s advice and Morgyn’s better judgement, when Jackson wandered into the kitchen that morning, Morgyn was already leaning against a counter, arms folded, the blond probably looking rather cross. A smarter person, or a less angry one, might not have been in the kitchen when he came in. Morgyn wanted him to make a mistake. If Drake thought Morgyn should have a reason to want to get rid of him, then Morgyn could probably find one. It wasn’t like Morgyn didn’t already have a reason. Ezio just wouldn’t like nor accept those reasons.
Incessantly badger one out of him, find one, same difference.
“Good morning, Morgyn,” Jackson greeted. He looked amused about something, moving around the kitchen to make tea. Morgyn was, as usual, staring at the coffee pot while it brewed anti-Morgyn-murder liquid.
“No,” Morgyn said.
Jackson snorted. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean, no,” Morgyn said. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t even be here at all, so I’d suggest you don’t talk to me and make it worse.” As far as Morgyn was concerned, he should’ve never been let anywhere near here, but magic headquarters was for everyone that was a spellcaster, and unfortunately, Jackson happened to be one of those. He didn’t have it in his blood, though, and none of them had turned him into a spellcaster. If Morgyn had to guess, Ezio had done it. Why on earth Ezio had given him magic, that Morgyn didn’t know.
He was finally free of the stupid fucking ghosts driving him mad, and now he had to deal with Jackson. Things were almost perfect for Ezio. Morgyn just had to deal with this one.
“Is that a threat?” Jackson asked. “Because I don’t think you want to be threatening me.”
“Is that a threat?” Morgyn asked in return. “Because I don’t think you want to be threatening me.”
“Ezio’s not going to be terribly pleased to hear about this one,” Jackson said.
Morgyn’s head tilted, slowly, nostrils flaring a slight bit. “Don’t presume to use my brother as a weapon against me.”
“Why?” Jackson asked. “You afraid I might win that little war? I go to bed with him, Morgyn.”
“He would never choose you over me,” Morgyn said.
“Want to bet?” Jackson asked, notably smirking.
Morgyn didn’t respond, simply eye-rolled at his audacity.
“What, you scared?”
“Not at all,” Morgyn replied, pouring a cup of coffee. “I’ve taken down worse than you over the years. Unfortunately for you, one of us is permanent here, and it’s not you. Keep pushing my buttons. You might just learn why my name is Ember.” Morgyn practically threw the coffee pot back into the machine, turned on a heel and stalked out of the kitchen, Jackson looking amused the entire way. He was definitely up to something. Ezio must’ve warned him that Morgyn tended to chase off his boyfriends anymore, clearly that interaction was expected. It didn’t make Morgyn any happier about it, that was sure.
Of course, going back to war with Ezio about his dumb boyfriend probably wouldn’t end well, and now Jackson could tell Ezio that the blond had threatened him and not be lying. It wasn’t like Morgyn regretted anything that was said, however. The mother fucker was playing with fire, and there were reasons we didn’t do that. Apparently his parents had never taught him that, but he was about to find out on his own.
Morgyn set the coffee cup down on a table on the balcony that was the Untamed Sage’s domain, and stared out over the back of headquarters, watching the water rush off the edge of the island. The tapping sound of L.’s heels sounded long before her voice did, but this time, Morgyn had sensed her coming, anyway.
“So now we’re threatening other spellcasters?” L. asked.
“I don’t like him,” Morgyn said.
“I wasn’t asking that,” L. replied. “There are some behavioural standards that we stick to around here.”
“I am the untamed sage,” Morgyn added. “They’re not known for following rules.”
L. tisked. “And look where that mindset got Aine,” she said, raising her hand to look at her nails.
Morgyn turned around to glare daggers at her. As always, L. was entirely unbothered. “He’s hurting Ezio.”
“Are you sure about that? Or do you just not like him and desperately want a reason to hate him?”
“You’ve seen what Ezio is like when he leaves,” Morgyn said.
“Which could just as easily be that he misses him,” L. replied. “Look, I know you’re convinced that he’s the cause of it, that it’s a reaction to something he’s doing, I get it. I know you’ve got it in your heart that he’s the bad guy. But don’t become a bad guy yourself trying to get rid of him. There are ways of dealing with these sorts of things and they’re all a lot more delicate than this.”
Morgyn scoffed, turning back around to stare at the water. Once again, L. was right and Morgyn hated it. It wasn’t like Morgyn knew any other way of doing battle, though, and Jackson was… he needed to do something stupid, really and truly stupid, or Ezio was never going to see sense, might even convince himself he loved this one, maybe even actually fall in love with him. No. Morgyn had to stop this before it was too late.
“So what else do I do?” Morgyn asked. “Just sit around and wait for it to go horribly?”
“Of course not,” L. replied, snorting. “But you do need to wait. The thing about small men with ulterior motives, eventually they become arrogant and show their colours.”
“Sometimes, that’s too late,” Morgyn said.
“Yes,” L. replied. “And there isn’t anything for that. But this isn’t how you deal with that, either.” L. went quiet a moment, turning away. “Sometimes Morgyn, all you can do is be there when the glass castle comes down,” she added, and then turned around and walked away.
Roses were hard to find around here. For the most part, Ezio never minded that, because roses were kind of overdone and cliche anyway. Instead, he’d ended up with some lavender, which had another side effect of being nicely aromatic, bluebells, and lilies. Ezio never did figure out what kinds of flowers, if any, Jackson liked, so he just went with ones he liked, ones he commonly heard that others favoured. Ezio set the vase down on the table, a little ways back from the candles, and then reached over and rearranged them a bit. He wondered, then, what Jackson’s favourite colour was, too. If he had to guess, it was probably gold. He sure wore a lot of gold.
Ezio didn’t dislike gold, but he was really more of a silver kind of guy, though his favourite colour was purple, and it looked terrible on him. That was why he never wore it. His head tilted to one side, looking at the flowers, and then he reached over and rearranged them again. No, that still wasn’t quite right either… it took a few more tries before he realised that if he kept messing with them, Jackson would be back, and the flowers’ arrangement would still not feel right.
He was nervous. Ezio tended to get obsessive about inane things when he was nervous.
He should check on the salmon, anyway, he figured, so he left the flowers alone, scooted the candle a little further away from the vase, and then headed into the kitchen. What time Jackson came back from these errands was usually somewhat random, but he hoped he’d timed it correctly. All he could do was hope, though, but he was used to that. The way Ezio had it figured, they should have some time for something like this, spending time together doing something a little mundane but kind of romantic all the same, and maybe if they did more things like that, Morgyn would have less reason to complain. He pulled the oven open, peeking at the fish; it looked done. That in mind, he waved a hand, taking it out without touching it, and then shuffled around getting it plated and ready to go.
As he scurried back over to the table he’d set up for them, the door opened and closed, and Ezio’s heart leapt into his throat. It was probably someone else, but Ezio still turned around and went out to look. The first thing Ezio noticed was the gold of Jackson’s jacket, and then he smiled. “Welcome back,” he said.
“Hey baby,” Jackson answered, pausing beside Ezio long enough to kiss his temple, and then headed for the stairs. “I’m heading to bed.”
“Already?” Ezio asked, turning around.
“Yeah?” Jackson asked, pausing and raising an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
“I just…” Ezio paused, wondering if he should even mention it at all, but his grey eyes flicked to the table, and Jackson followed his gaze.
“Dinner, oh, I’m way too tired and ate out at the Alley, you go ahead.” Jackson smiled slightly and then went up the stairs.
And Ezio tried not to look too crushed as he went. It was meant to be a surprise, but, with someone as busy as Jackson, it probably would’ve been a better idea to ask first. Ezio turned back to the table. Well, there was no sense in letting all that effort go to waste, he guessed. It wasn’t like he could usually tolerate to do so much at once. He had to be careful how active he was, and what kinds of strenuous things and how long he got caught up in. Setting just this up had taken the better part of the day, but that was just as well. Yeah, he should’ve asked first.
Ezio turned down towards the floor, and then shuffled over to the table, taking a seat. He wasn’t really hungry, now, but he was already here, and there was no sense in being too upset about something that was probably his own fault. Jackson was rarely ever around during the day, even when he was at magic realm. That was probably part of why Ezio missed him so much, but it wasn’t fair of him to demand so much of his time, either. Jackson was a busy person, because he had a lot of business partners and arrangements to deal with. Come to think of it though, he never did figure out what Jackson did for a living, exactly.
He supposed it didn’t matter.
Finally, he reached over and made a small plate for himself. As he stood up to blow out the candles, he heard shuffling on the stairs, and turned around to find Jackson heading back down. He went around Ezio, and sat in the chair on the other side.
“Sorry, babe,” he said. “It occurred to me on the way up there, you probably meant this as a date… so, ah, here I am. That was pretty stupid. What’d you make?”
Ezio stared at him for a moment, and then smiled shyly. “Salmon,” he said, quite softly. Jackson coming back down was markedly unexpected, though Ezio wasn’t really happy. That wasn’t the first time Jackson had blown him off, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The more time went on, the harder it became to defend him from Morgyn’s accusations, that he wasn’t any good for him, that he didn’t have any real interest in Ezio at all.
So what was he to him? And did he dare to ask? Jackson had a temper sometimes, and Ezio didn’t like to set it off. It might be best not to say anything at all.
“I came,” Jackson said. “And this is really good. What’s with the face?”
“What?” Ezio asked. “Nothing. I’m not making a face.” At least, he didn’t think he was making a face. (Was he making a face?)
“Right, okay,” Jackson said. “So now you’re going to be a little whingy bitch.”
Ezio looked down at the table. There was no sense in answering that, so, Ezio didn’t. He didn’t know that he was being a whingy bitch. (Was he?) He was so out of the loop with these sorts of things, but it was no wonder. He only dated because people asked him, not because he wanted to. He had far more important things to worry about than dating, and yet here he was, dating.
He trusted Drake. A lot more than he trusted Jackson, at least. But he wouldn’t tell Jackson that talking to Drake was making him wonder about him. About them. Why did Jackson ask him out, anyway?
“You’re not still upset about me leaving, are you?” Jackson asked. “Since you’re already being a little bitch, may as well get that out of the way too.”
Ezio shook his head. “I’m not.” Of course he was. Jackson never stayed. What was so wrong with him that-
“Good,” Jackson replied. “You won’t even notice that I’m gone.”
No, Ezio didn’t think he would notice. Because Jackson was always gone.
The sprite didn’t seem interested in slowing down anytime soon. The white witch was keeping up well enough, and sometimes the sprite would hang back and wait. The forest was quiet, save for the crunching of snow beneath the white witch’s boots. Well, she supposed no one could call her a witch, anymore. The forest spirits were kind enough to assist her when she needed it, but her magic was gone now, and had been for a long time. It was no thanks to a former comrade. Someone that, given time, Keisha could’ve called a friend, but that person would’ve never called her a friend in turn. It was all water under the bridge, now.
Keisha moved slightly to one side, to avoid a set of rocks. Granite Falls was beautiful in the winter, one of her favourite places, but that was why she’d stayed here for as long as she had. People came and went in Granite Falls. No one was permanent a fixture, and meeting different people from around the world, and being exposed to many different cultures over time, it gave Keisha enough mental and social stimulation to keep her happy. She was never lonely here, anyway, because the forest spirits kept her company. Plus the sprites were friendly. Most of the time, anyway.
The sprite took another sharp turn, and Keisha dutifully followed, making sure not to stray too far behind. The sprite looked a bit impatient at her, and Keisha giggled. “Do you remember what happened last time you broke your wing?” she asked.
The sprite, a sparkling pink colour, dropped in altitude slightly. Keisha recognised it as a sign of embarrassment. She was starting to understand sprite body language. The former sage wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
The world was changing. As a shaman, Keisha was in tune with the natural rhythm of life, and of death. Something had shifted some time ago, and she’d never learnt the outcome of that. It didn’t feel different, now. It felt like the same thing, as if the promise that was made so long ago was finally being realised. She wasn’t sure what that meant either, but it was very likely to be important, judging by the tension in the air. Something had changed, and now the whole world was holding its breath, waiting to change with it.
The sprite had stopped, not far. Keisha trudged up to meet it, and looked down at what it was hovering above. Ah, it was a snapdragon plant. These made beautiful centrepieces, but were also useful in certain potions. Despite her magic being stripped, Keisha still brewed potions, among other things. Tinctures and salves, ointments and the like, these sold very well to the travellers that came to Granite Falls. Some of them were tragically silly enough to come without having taken any precautions or stocked up on anything.
Ah, but that was what the forest hermit was for, after all. To see to it that the forest, and those that visited it, were taken care of, even if they were a little woefully underprepared and perhaps a bit dense.
Keisha paused, looking up at the tree that was beside the snapdragons. There were strange markings on the bark, purplish in hue, and it took Keisha a moment to recognise them. As soon as they started to be familiar, the sprite squeaked and suddenly took off. Keisha whipped around. “Wait!” she cried, but the sprite was already long gone. Keisha scrambled after it, moving as fast as her clumsy human legs would let her go.
Naturally, the sprite got where it was going long before she did. Keisha came up beside it, and it was swirling in frantic circles in midair. Whatever the sprite had found had startled it a notable amount, but Keisha wasn’t certain – oh, no, she remembered the last time a sprite acted this way. Keisha’s purple eyes darted around, one dusky-skinned hand brushing white hair back from her face, to find the flower that was calling the sprite.
Her eyes landed on it, and Keisha stepped closer to it, eyes alight with dazzled fascination. It looked like it was made of darkness and glass, black and purple smoke swirling around its shimmering purple body, like there was metallic glitter inside it, a beautiful violet bloom, there at the base of a tree. These were Etiana’s flowers, and Etiana’s flowers brought messages from the gods.
Keisha stared at the flower for a long moment, and then turned to the sprite. “Shall we activate it?” she asked.
The sprite stopped flying in circles, and nodded enthusiastically.
If an Etiana flower was not intended for you, it would not activate. Keisha had no doubt that enabling it would work, if it was meant to. That in mind, her hand reached out, and tapped one of the petals. It shimmered blue, and then ice shot everywhere, snaking up the tree and covering it in a thick layer of icy blue, across the snow, and even across Keisha’s boots. It chilled everything to its core, and drastically changed the appearance of the forest around them.
And then the voices began.
“Do not presume to understand me or my motivations.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to hurt. Not yet.”
“It doesn’t change the reality.”
“If you look back, you won’t be able to move forward.”
Some of the voices, Keisha swore she recognised, swore she’d heard before, but names weren’t coming to mind. She turned, watching the images in the ice across the snow, but they were hazy, unfocused, and hard to make out.
“Master all sides of yourself. Even your own darkness.”
“He was the only thing standing in my way.”
“Can you kill your own brother?”
None of these things made sense. Keisha grimaced. Despite none of what was being said making any sense, none of the images being clear enough to make out, Keisha couldn’t help the growing sense of dread.
“I don’t teach the easy way.”
“I made him what he is.”
“We’re not going to die.”
“Nothing will ever hurt you again.”
“Now, we do it my way.”
“I will take you with me!”
“You must fall in order to rise.”
“I may be the only chance you have to save him.”
“I will never put myself before you.”
“It isn’t the things that hurt that matter, it is what we do with the hurt.”
“What have I done to us?”
“It could destroy you. It could destroy everything.”
“Please… come back to me… come home…”
As quick as the visions began, the ice receded, and the flower disappeared in a puff of smoke. Even so, Keisha was quite certain it’d take a few days to be rid of the chill that had set into her bones. She wasn’t sure what that all had meant. But she never was, the first time a vision came to her. Things were changing, and perhaps quite rapidly. She turned to her sprite friend, and smiled.
“Let’s go home,” she said. “And make hot cocoa.”
It was easier than fretting about it all.
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