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THE EYE OF THE STORM
six and a half hours
SHE STARED AT Regulus curiously. He had not moved in a while. He had gone quiet after telling her his name. She did not know how much time had passed. Her hands were still shaking, yet her mind was not cloudy. It never was.
He was sitting across from her, his forehead against the knees that he was hugging. His breathing was slow -- almost as if he was asleep or dying. Almost.
"Aren't you going to kill me?" she asked quietly at the sitting boy.
He looked up slowly at her with sorrowful eyes.
"Would you like me to kill you?" he asked.
"Do I have any other option?" she asked him.
"No," he replied. "But I didn't ask you if I was going to kill you, but I asked if you wanted to be killed."
"Is there a difference?" she asked. "Time doesn't pass here, so how can death occur?"
"I don't follow," Regulus said, confused.
"Death implies taking life," she explained. "But if time doesn't pass, so life doesn't live and move on, then did you really die in the first place or did your body just catch up with your mind?"
Regulus just stared at her. The girl just stared at him.
"If you're not going to kill me," she said. "Are you going to tell me who you are?"
"I've already told you my name ..." Regulus said, confused.
"I'm aware of that," she said softly. "But your name is not who you are. It's just something people have assigned to you so they can pick you out from a crowd."
"It is not appropriate for me to be talking about this," he mumbled as he stiffened. "I don't know who you are."
"I would tell you," she offered, "if I knew."
A bucket of cold paint poured over Regulus's heart, chilling it slowly. Making it glow, faintly, a different color.
"This is still not appropriate," he grumbled as he got up and retrieved his satchel, taking his wand out of it.
He pointed it at her, ready to strike. Ready to say the only words he couldn't take back. He felt all of the hatred in him welling up to strengthen his blow. To make the permanent even more irreversible.
Say it like you mean it, Bellatrix would always say. Say it like you mean to kill them. Like you don't want them on the planet anymore. Like every horrible thing that's ever happened to you is because of them.
Use the power in your anger. Harness it and become a god. Wield the power of death.
Death is the opposite of life, Narcissa would always say. In the world of binary, life and death opposed each other. Light and dark. Potential and no potential. Yes and no. Wield the power of life and death carefully. Because life cannot be given to the dead.
Use the power in your life. Harness it and become a god. Wield the power of death.
Mercy is the strength of the good, Andromeda would always say. It had been years since Regulus had seen her. She had learned the hard way, like his brother, what 'goodness' meant in a family like their's. And yet, with her miles away and only mentioned in the whisperings between servants, she and Sirius invaded Regulus's dreams. Plaguing him with guilt. Because mercy is given by those who love.
Use the power in your mercy. Harness it and become mortal. Wield the power of life.
"You are safe here," she whispered.
"No I'm not," he countered as his eyes hardened.
"You are safe with me," she whispered. "You are not alone."
