Inked Sapphire (Dear Dahlia Season 3)

19

Silence engulfed the forest. Asra made her way through it. The trees parted for her like she was a god.

There was something odd about watching dusk become night. The bright stars twinkling in the dark sky made it feel as if for a moment, time had stopped.

The djinn stepped into the clearing and stared down at the lake. Its waters were dirtied with leaves. Saints, she remembered when this lake was crystal clear, sunlight reflecting off the water as it shone through the trees. A paradise.

Asra sat beside it. The moon cast its silvery light over the wood, and she sighed. She moved her hand ever so slightly, and a tiny whirlpool began to form. It sucked the leaves out of the lake and into its abyss, then vanished. There, Asra thought. All clear again. She stared at her pale skin, green eyes and blonde hair in the waters' reflection. For a few moments, Asra changed to her secondary form, admiring the black hair, hazel eyes and light brown skin. Then, she reverted it, and found her usual human form gazing back at her.

There was no sign of other djinn. There never was, now, not since that...'fairytale' had been published. Asra had underestimated them, thought she could get away with it. But no, she hadn't. The day the other djinn condemned her to walk the earth alone, was the day her heart broke.

That witness who wrote the story - Who were they? How had they known it was her? Asra could not face the idea of someone else knowing the truth. She had stolen those notes, lit herself up so the library would burn, killed Laiyana's descendants, and yet the fairytale stood unchanged.

Another leaf fell onto the lake. Asra looked up, just in time to see it cause the water to ripple.

The story had been kept perfect, pristine, with not one soul daring to think of altering it. The truth did not need to be laid out so clearly. Blood had built this country. If only it could stay that way.

Asra remembered it clearly then, a clawed hand pointing at her whilst she kneeled, begging. Leave, the djinn had ordered, their voices a cacophony of shame. You no longer belong with us.

How did they know? Asra thought. There were millions of djinn, millions of faces. And yet, they'd found her out. It was terrifying. It was heartbreaking.

The djinn stared down at the forest floor. She thought of the girl who had made the deal with her, the stupid, naive little legend. Hate swirled inside her, begging to be let out. And so, she opened her mouth.

"LAIYANA!"

Asra's scream echoed across the woods. Above, a murder of crows cawed loudly in alarm and took flight, the rustling of trees indicating their escape. Her clawed hands twisted, and the ground shook beneath her feet. Then, she stood.

Asra looked down, and her eyes widened slightly; she'd hurt herself. Ink spilled out of her hand. She licked it, tasting it on her tongue. It felt like black water. The djinn began to hum, focusing on the tune, until all she could sense was her voice.