𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

08 - crystals and a man purse

˖*࿐ •*⁀➷

MABEL DREAMED IN BROKEN PIECES. The twisted memories fought to rebuild in her brain, flashing through her sleep in cryptic scenes and leaving her throat feeling tight and her chest feeling empty.

The images came strangely, with a blurred, dreamy likeness. The curve of a neck in firelight. Hands reaching toward her, smooth and strong. Warm brown eyes, lined with long lashes. A timid smile, with a dimple on the left. Those same brown eyes, this time unfocused and lifeless.

It was an odd feeling. Mabel was no stranger to grief— she knew the guilt and the anger. But the rage that simmered in the pit of her gut was different, something primal that scared her.

The goddess' words rang in her mind— all the talk of Fate and such. The Greek endearments that sent ripples of inexplicable pain through Mabel's body, like the words were knives, piercing the depths of her soul that she herself didn't even know of.

Words seemed to sit on the tip of her tongue, begging to be whispered in the darkness of her mind, but the syllables just wouldn't connect. All of Mabel's thoughts were loose ends, the strings too short to form coherency of anything.

Mabel. The voice that floated through her dream was lilting and soft, like fresh grass beneath bare feet. My chosen. Our time is near.

The brunette wasn't really anywhere. Nothing around her but strange blackness. The air felt strangely empty, no breeze and no warmth, just the cool presence of nothing brushing across Mabel's skin.

"What?" Her voice seemed to echo, not in the air around her, but between her ears, bouncing around in the space beneath her brain.

A form flickered before her eyes, penetrating the dark with a soft glow. Long hair like spun gold, falling over slender shoulders and an angular face, bright green eyes piercing like spears.

I put you where you wanted to be. The woman's voice continued, seeming to weave through Mabel's ears and around her brain like a coiled snake.

The figure of the boy flashed, and suddenly he seemed older and angrier and a little bit mad. Green eyes like shattered glass, nothing but primal desperation in the set of his delicate brow. Blooming crimson from his chest, his sternum mangled and broken in a mass of shattered bone and torn flesh.

The woman continued, her voice lilting and curving like her unseen face bore a smile. You will return the favor. You are my chosen.

Mabel took a step back, gaze fixed on the boy before her. "Yeah, I don't think..." she murmured, brow furrowing in discomfort. Her chest grew tight, right above her ribs, like staring at the mangled chest of that boy had transferred his wound to her.

You will see. The ground beneath Mabel's feet rumbled, and the cold, lilting voice of the woman curled into a laugh. The daughter of Trivia's stomach twisted, her heart jumping to her throat as a crack split the dark floor, red light seeming to beam from the unseen depths below. We will meet at your lowest. We will finally twist Fate.

The crack widened, darting between Mabel's feet with flashing speed. The figure of the golden boy just stared, those green eyes dull and lifeless as he watched the brunette girl stumble back, falling to the ground as she tried to scramble away from the gaping hole before her. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no, stop it!"

I will see you soon, Mabel Larua. Embrace the fall.

Then the ground split open, and Mabel was plummeting into nothing.