Aureate Fates

4

                   SUPERNOVA IN CHAINS

       —THEMA—

The Levantica Trees warded against the beasts beyond the orders of Ziralem; but she knew that there were larger monsters within the bounds, growing more and more bestial. The B on her hand was a permanent reminder.

It was nearing nightfall and Lavender Festival raged on. She only knew this because the whisper of sunlight she could see now dimmed through the holes of her hut.

Thema could only hear the faint tunes of the music, for she was sequestered within a dusty auburn hut a few miles away from the laughing masses. She hardly remembered the glow of the day, she hadn't seen it in two years.

She was teased with delicate pine scents that she could not quite greet from the confines of her deep red robe. She looked in the mirror, where she saw her deep brown skin and bright green eyes. Aside her, she saw a shadow in the mirror.

A spirit, one she saw more frequently, watched her from a wooden chair. Simply looking. She gave a smile, but the spirit who was scarred and bloody, sat still. The spirits she saw never spoke, she didn't think they could speak. Most only smiled, some danced. Others wrote messages down on paper.

However, she feared this spirit before her, so much so, that she was wary to allow him into her head, her heart.

But she wouldn't let him know that his bloodied form and black eyes made her want to run.

Run where?

Run how?

Gretta lifted the flap of the tapestry separating Thema's room with the entrance of the hut. The woman was a wrinkled figure with bare feet. Almost as if he sensed Gretta's presence, the bloodied spirit vanished just as quick as he appeared. For once, she was grateful for her mistress.

"The usual young man wishes to see you, girl. You will obey him," she said, gruffly, eyeing Thema's bronze shackles.

Thema bowed her head, "Yes, Mistress."

Obey. She once suffered through the acts she had to perform, to obey, but now—now there was no suffering. Only quiet. A tremendous amount of quiet that the spirits brought her.

Behind Gretta, waltzed in a tall boy with wine-red hair. His length sourced form his legs. His brown eyes held a permanent mischief while his mouth was curved into a charming smile.

She was sure he tore hearts apart, stomped on them with his universal charm.

He waved Gretta off, and adjusted the tapestry to close fully. Thema watched as he reached into his pocket and extracted many materials. As he did so, she was given a swift, nearly fleeting vision.

The image consisted of Reese attaching a piece of jewelry onto a beautiful boy's wrist. A beggar seemed to be in the midst of the interaction, but the vision vanished like the bloodied spirit did just moments ago.

Reese looked up from the petals he was arranging on the wooden table. "More ghosts?," he asked, mockery laced in his tone. He acted as if the ghosts were merely fiction.

Thema stilled and looked straight behind Reese. "Behind you," she whispered, eyes wide.

Reese whipped around, nearly giving himself a broken neck. He breathed heavily as his eyes darted around nothing but air. Not a ghost in sight. Not one Thema saw, and certainly not one Reese beheld.

She giggled, and Reese turned back to her with a murderous expression.

"Scaredy cat," Thema taunted, giving him a toothy smile.