vii. Memories turn into daydreams

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     Anger was 

better than Tears

better than Grief

better than Guilt

Elayla Anwar was no idiot

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Elayla Anwar was no idiot. In fact, she was told she was pretty smart for a fae her age. And at the moment, she knew Morrigan was about to blow up at her face.

Her father's cousin was the only motherly figure Elayla had ever know, excapt from Maliah, who had cowardly stepped back from her daughter's life.

Maliah Anwar...

That was her last name. Anwar. as in lights.

For such a bright last name, Elayla felt more like a dying star in the middle of the darkest nights.

She stared at her reflection on the mirror, the cut splitting her bottom lip, the purple bruise blooming on her left cheekbone, nothing a good camouflage couldn't hide. Velaris should see its High Lord's daughter in her best shape after all.

She brushed the short strands of her hair, her head everywhere but home. She wished she could enjoy Starfall as much as she used to.

The falling spirits from another world, going on the same journey every year for the sake of an unknown destination, never to rest. They had grown fewer over the years, but she was ceratain, that at least one star would never stop, lost i time and space, just like she was.

"You have officially lost your head;" Morrigan scowled, which never fit the beautiful traits of her face, as she walked into the dark blue painted room "Do you have a death wish, Elayla?"

"Good morning to you too, cousin dearest?" Elayla plastered on her fakest smile.Easy. So painfully easy. "You look ravishing today. Is it a new hairstyle?"

"You are not getting out of this mess by kissing my ass, Layla." Mor deflected her words, her hands resting on her hips over the emerald green dress she wore "Did you look at yourself?"

"As beautiful as the nightsky, I suppose I am." Elayla raised her eyebrows, taunting, pushing the conversation far away from her nightly escapades.

"If it weren't for Azriel's shadows, your pretty face would be now rearranged." Morrigan walked closer, taking Layla's face in her hands, her brows furrowing at the small damages.

"Excuse you..." Elayla frowned, deeply offended, she was completely capable of fightig on her own "I took down the asshole myself, don't give the credit to your five-centuries crush." She snarked.

Mor shut her up with one pointed look "Right, touchy subject." Layla winced at the sight of Mor's glare.

"What did Madja say about this one?" Mor asked while scanning the scratch on her bottom lip. "Nothing too bad, it'll heal." Elayla shrugged, standing up and strolling away from her seat to put on her black corset over the thin chiffon fabric of her shirt "Help me with this..." She asked.

"This time..." Mor finished for her, tying up the laces as Elayla carefully drew a sinful black line across the top lid, flicking it at the corner "This is no way to live, Elayla. And you know it. Rhys won't be back only because of you running around Velaris' streets to catch thieves. That is a soldier's job."

Elayla's hand froze for a split second. It was a low blow, and Morrigan knew it, she hated it when they used him against her. "All hail Velaris' heroes, then." Layla hummed, deliberately ignoring the blonde's words, trying not to show the anger in her tone, replacing it with a charming smile.

"For now, excuse this reckless Illyrian baby to go and mind her own business." She brushed it off, strapping her favourite dagger, nightfell, in the sheat attached around her hips. "I'll see you tonight, Mors."

She blew her a kiss, swiftly leaving the room, the clicking of her black boots against the marble floors was the only thing that could be heard inside the walls of the House of Wind, she couldn't keep living in her old home, not when the memories haunted her so vividly.

All lights were turned off, the sun slowly drifted down, and starfall aproached with each passing second. The House of Wind was as ready as always, people waited from the balconies, the joy as present as ever, but even at that, she could not help it, the knot inside her throat.

Breathe...

It's just another Starfall...

She wondered if her father, whatever Hel he was doing, was thinking of her that day the same way she thought of him, or if he was happy to have her bounded to this city, helpless and useless, only there to sit still and look pretty.

No, today was not about him. Even if it ripped her guts into shreds, tonight was for holding appearances up, to be grateful for the sacrifices and honour them.

Were they sacrifices or death wishes, she couldn't really know...

"Happy Starfall to you..." She whispered to no one in particular, or maybe it was to him, no matter how delusional it sounded.



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