A Curse so Twisted And Cruel.

The Spring Festival.

My healing process is slow, but the others don't mind.

I talk about her almost all the time, mentioning about how she would've done something, or something she would've said.

We laugh and cry at the memories we shared, and eventually, I learn to move on.

•{§∆§}•

⚠️ WARNING: Abusive language, Violence and Blood.

"Hey, did you guys realise that the Spring Festival is like, tomorrow?" Gnarl asks us one morning, as we're tucking into jam tarts and coffee.

"Tomorrow?" Vin and Lira say simultaneously. "This is terrible, what on earth are we going to wear?" Lira exclaims, forgetting the jam tart half raised to her mouth.

"Relax Lira, you'll even look good in a trash bag." Vin rolls his eyes at her.

That doesn't mean I should go in a trash bag." She retorts, glaring at him.

"No one's going to go in a trash bag." I sigh, breaking their staring match.
"We could wear our last year clothes." Gnarl offers.

"I'd rather go in a trash bag." Lira says, flipping her long black hair.
I giggle, and the others turn to me, surprised.

Maybe because I haven't so much as smiled for the last few weeks.

But I can't seem to stop, and their surprised expressions make it even funnier.
They join in and we laugh until out stomachs physically hurt.

Then Lira drags us to the market, only leaving after finding something she approves of. (Which means checking every market within a ten mile radius.)

We emerge from the Fort the next evening, dressed in our finest.
Gnarl looks like true gentleman in his mossy green suit that matches his eyes, and Vin is rocking his plum coloured one.

Lira, as usual, looks absolutely stunning in a royal blue gown, embellished with teardrop diamonds, and I'm wearing a shorter, mink coloured dress, a pearl sash encircling my waist.

We slipped on wigs, as a disguise, and I'm a redhead tonight, Lira and Gnarl are blonde, and Vin is bald.

We look at each other and laugh, before making our way down the hill, towards the twinkling lights of the main market, where the festival is held every year.

Once we get there, we first head for the dizzy nut table, where we eat as many as we possibly can, before going to the dance floor, swaying to the merry music and tripping on toes.

An unfortunate, blond haired youth asks me for a dance, so we dance, and a grin grows on my face when I see Lira blushing while talking to a tall man with silver hair.

After the dance is over, I go to one of the stalls and order myself a drink. A few moments later, Lira and the silver haired man come and seat themselves on the table front of me.

"No really, I haven't seen an elf with such pretty eyes. Are you sure you mother wasn't a fairy?" The man was saying to her.
"I told you, it's from my father's side. We all have unusual eyes." There's a sharp edge to Lira's reply, and I know she's getting annoyed.

"Yes, of course." If his tone was meant to be apologetic, he definitely failed.
"Actually, I should go, it's getting late." She stands up, "Thank you for the dance. And the drinks."

She moves past him, but he catches her wrist and pulls her down, kissing her cheek. But when she straightens up, her face is pale, and she yanks her wrist from his grasp, before hurrying away.