Once upon a time, the realms of Chance and Men lived in peace and harmony. The balance of the worlds was perfect. Unfortunately, the thirst for power and magic is an inevitable poison, as insatiable as the noble families of chance. Their thirst led...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧
Chapter 8
✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧✧★✧
My cheek burns with pain. I run to seek refuge in my bed and hide safely in the darkness of the covers. Papa hit me. I should never have lied to him about the fire behind the house. But Isabella and I needed to burn the ruins notebook, and it was my idea to do it there. I should have known that Papa would see the ashes. I didn't expect him to fly into such a rage. I place my hand, cool against my face, and silently cry.
I hear the door creak slowly, and I recognize the soft footsteps of my twin sister who climbs up next to me a moment later. "I'm joining you," she announces, and I make room for her on the mattress. Her familiar scent calms me, and she strokes my hair, allowing me to cry against her.
"If you could be someone else, anyone," she asks me in a gentle voice, "who would you be?"
"A mermaid," I instantly reply, momentarily forgetting the pain in my cheek. "To swim far away from here." She doesn't say anything for a moment, silently caressing my hair, our hearts beating in unison.
"And you?" My voice is a whisper, almost shy to break the pleasant silence that settles in.
She chuckles softly and replies, "I would be as powerful as the sun." She evokes the goddesses of the Moon and Sun, a dreamy smile on her lips. "With such power, we could go anywhere, we would be invincible." She tightens her embrace, and my heart beats a little faster, as if following the rhythm of hers.
"We wouldn't have to hide, to be careful. I could protect you," she continues.
"One day, I will find a way to be powerful enough to protect both of us. Together."
I close my eyes, and we stay there, in each other's arms, imagining a world where she is the sun and I am the moon.
"How cute."
I abruptly open my eyes and realize that I am no longer in my sister's embrace, nor in my room. I am back in the field of ruins and roses. And I am not alone.
He is leaning against one of the still-standing walls of the old ruined church, the stained glass accentuating the reflections in his hair. They're not entirely black, I realize; there seem to be hints of blue. This man is the embodiment of the sky before a storm.
"You," I point an accusatory finger at him, feeling rage surge within me. "You are the Prince of Hearts, aren't you? You've stolen my sister!"
I should be frightened to accuse him in such a manner, but my sister is more important than all the dangers in the world, including him.
To my surprise, he bursts into laughter, a genuine and loud laughter that startles me.
"My dear, I can assure you that I detest the color red. The day you meet my cousin, you will recognize him immediately."
His cousin. If he's not the Prince of Hearts, he is part of the royalty, that much is evident.
"Who are you? How can you be here? In my dreams..."
"I would love to answer all your questions, unfortunately, time is running out for us, Alice."
I look at him, puzzled, before adding, "I don't understand. I've been dreaming of you for years. Why do you want to talk to me now? Do you have something to do with all of this?"
His face is unreadable, his magnetic eyes fixed on me. He doesn't have his usual mocking expression. He almost looks... concerned.
As that thought crosses my mind, what I believe I perceive disappears from his features, and he approaches me so quickly that I don't have time to react.
"Everything would be so much simpler if..." he murmurs, without finishing his sentence. His breath caresses my cheek. It smells like a delightful summer night and it feels like the goosbumps left by the sea on my skin after a swim. I feel myself blush involuntarily and respond, "If what?" My voice is a whisper, and he immediately moves back.
The scenery changes instantly. For the first time, I take him with me into another dream. A new dream that I don't recognize myself.
The fire surrounds us completely. "Alice," his voice is calm, but I can see in his gaze that he knows this place. "Where are we?" I ask, panicked, trying to escape the flames, trying to escape this nightmare.
"It's your dream, Alice. I am only a spectator here." His eyes seem to burn with the same intensity as the fire around us. "I don't recognize this place." The smoke makes me cough, and my eyes sting.
He grabs my arm, forcing me to look at him. "it's just a dream, love, It can't hurt you." I absorb his words, unable to stop the coughing fits. I'm suffocating.
And then I realize. I think I'm in a memory, a memory that doesn't belong to me. Well, I think...
A movement catches my attention behind him, and without caring about his royal status, I push him to catch a glimpse of what's behind him.
Two boys, around ten years old, rescuing two girls of the same age from the flames. From their attire, they appear well-off, but it's their faces that leave me perplexed. I know them. I know these faces.
One of the girls looks in my direction without seeing me, and I can finally breathe. I no longer feel the smoke around us or the heat of the flames. That little girl, with her red curls, is... "Isabella," I whisper, running in her direction. I am stopped by the stranger, who grabs my elbow and pulls me towards him. He holds me against his chest, his body cold, sending a shiver through me. "Let me go! That's my sister!"
"Alice..." he sighs my name against my ear, but I struggle. He doesn't let go. Until I stop fighting.
When I see her. Her. Me.
My doppelgänger can't be more than 10 years old, probably younger, and she stares at me. She can see me too but says nothing. One of the boys, with blonde hair, pulls her hand, forcing her to follow, while the second boy, whose black hair has auburn reflections from the flames, pulls my sister's arm in the same direction. I can't see his features, but I am convinced that I know him. I know this boy.
The dream slowly dissipates, and as I feel the stranger's grip loosen, I turn to him and whisper, "What was that?"
"You're starting to remember." His hand brushes away a tear streaming down my cheek, and his gesture leaves me speechless. I raise my hand to brush his away forcefully, but before I have the chance to touch him, he catches it mid-air and places it on his chest. I feel no heartbeat. His body is so cold that I feel like I'm being pricked by thousands of thorns.
Only his voice reaches me as I sit up abruptly in my bed, causing the book to fall and shatter loudly on the floor.
"Tomorrow, don't hesitate to strike right in the heart."
