Ash's Place

Chapter 4

Ash's POV

Finn waits for twenty paces or so before falling into step behind us. Now that we are farther away from the fairy lights and the evening has crept into night, it is slightly hard to see so I decide to use my magic to illuminate the way. I open my free hand and turn my palm up. White light dances across my skin and I tell it what I want it to do. I take a deep breath and close my eyes in concentration.

The light shoots out from my palm, flinging itself down the pathway in a rampant streak but freezes when I flick my wrist. The beam of light fractures into a million different pieces and the fragments hang themselves in the air like tiny twinkling stars.

"Wow..." Xander breathes in amazement, and I look up at him to see his eyes wide with wonder. I will admit, my magic is fun to play with, but the cute displays are only a hint of my power. My magic is as pretty as it is deadly.

"How did you learn to do that, Lady Locklynn?" Xander asks as we wind ourselves through the garden. He is delectably handsome in the light of my magic, and I briefly wonder what it would feel like to have him kiss me.

"You can call me, Ashlee if you wish. No need to be so formal all the time. And to answer your question, I taught myself."

"Ashlee...such a pretty name for a pretty girl," Xander replied, and I winced at the sound of my name coming from his lips. I wanted to tell him to call me Ash but that seems too intimate of a gesture considering he is still a stranger.

"What's wrong?" he quickly asks, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, I am just not used to hearing my name fall from anyone else's lips other than the King and Queen's."

"You mean your parents?"

"Technically," I replied curtly. The King and Queen only care about me when it serves a purpose for them. The Queen hasn't hugged me or told me that she loves me since I was seven years old. And the King, well the King, I think had hoped his firstborn would be a boy. I am not a boy. So, by just existing, I am an unwanted burden. Now that I am thinking about it, I don't know if he has ever said he loves me. It's okay though, I don't need or want his love. His love always comes at a price that I refuse to pay. I will not be my mother.

"Ashlee?"

"Hmm?" I reply absentmindedly.

"Your magic..." Xander whispers.

I focus on what is happening around me and the soft white light fragments have turned so red, the air looks like it is bleeding. Drips of bloodied light fall down onto the path and suddenly I am nine years old again.

My mother kneels in front of my father, her head hanging in shame as he ruthlessly strikes her across the face. The impact is so hard she falls to the side, and I let out a strangled cry, exposing my hiding place from their closet. I had only wanted to surprise them with a new power I had recently mastered but when my father's angry voice barreled down the hall, it scared me, and I hid.

My father opens the closet so hard that the slats in the wood splinter and break off. My mother turns toward me and blood runs from her nose and mouth, dripping onto the plush white carpet below. My father grabs my arm and yanks me out of the closet with a shout. I plead with my mother to help me and she looks at me with horrified pity. Then she turns away.

She turned away. She knew he was going to hit me, and she let him. She let him. It took the bruises two weeks to fade enough that I could leave my room without receiving questionable glances from everyone.

"Lady Locklynn! Breathe!"

Someone is shaking my shoulders and shouting at me. I brush their hands off me and then someone is pulling on my arm. No! I will fight back this time. I am not a child anymore. I force my magic up to the surface of my skin and then with a forceful shove, I use my magic-infested hand to remove the one from my arm. I hear a cry of pain and a curse before another hand returns, this time to gently cup my face.