A Slip Of Darkness

Chapter VI

The black dye is everywhere. My hands, my apron, my dresser, my face. Everywhere but my hair. I huff, trying to wipe the dye off my hands so I can grab the box, but It slips from my grasp and clatters to the floor, leaving stains of black in its wake.

'Damn box-dye.' I mutter bitterly as I lean down to grab it with my forearms. Eleanor is dying of laughter in the background, clearly enjoying my suffering.

"I'm glad to see someone's having a good time." i say sarcastically, shooting a glare her way.

"This...is....hilarious.." she says between fits of laughter. "And you thought.... You could...do this yourself...'' she doubles over again, snorting.

"In my defense, I thought it was like boiled iris root. I had no idea there would be so many steps, and It. Is. Everywhere." I wave around the unfurled instruction pamphlet as proof.

I take a look at the remaining dye. There's barely any left; whatever there was is smeared across my dresser and hands. There's not nearly enough to dye my hair. I take a look in the mirror. Streaks of my white hair are now black, unevenly dispersed, making me look like a weirdly striped skunk.

I look over sheepishly at Eleanor. "Fine. I give up. Please help me."

Eleanor, still chortling, gets up from her seat and smiles smugly.

"I knew you'd come to your senses. Alright, let's see." She grabs a brand new box of black hair dye and reads the back.

"Okay. Here's what you did wrong: you didn't mix the proper quantities, you didn't use a spatula, you didn't evenly spread it around your hair, you didn't wait 30 minutes, and you didn't wear gloves." She looks at me. "Did you even read the instructions?"

I bite my lip to keep from grinning. "Umm...no?"

She sighs and shakes her head teasingly. "And you'd think that someone so obsessed with brews and draughts would have the sense to read the instructions."

"Like I said, I thought it was like boiled iris root! Take the root, boil it, put the water on your hair and let it dry. Simple. No need for all these complicated, extra steps." I say indignantly.

"That's not like you, Etharen. You always read the instructions, never assume anything. Is everything alright?" She says, peering worriedly into my face as she mixed the correct amounts of dye and activator.

I avoid her gaze, suddenly uncomfortable. The atmosphere in the room shifts from lighthearted and teasing to serious, concerned.

"I don't know. You're right, I normally read the instructions. I guess...I don't know, I feel kind of.. scared. Out of it. I guess the fact that I'm going is really starting to hit me now. It's.. unsettling. I don't think I can do this."

"Oh, Etharen." She coos. "You can do this. King Ivius wouldn't have chosen you to go in there unless he believed you could handle it. She pulls me into a hug, rubbing my back in wide circles, but her words provide no comfort. Father didn't choose me because he thought I could do it. He chose me because I posed the least risk to Eoria.