Perhaps it wasn't Murielle's finest moment when accidentally mispronouncing a spell had an unconscious Original landing slap-bang in the middle of her home. Though at first this mistake may have seemed horrible, it leads to a whirlwind of a life tha...
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Murielle didn't know whether she felt betrayed. The mask Finn had donned, that porcelain façade, did little to cover up his true face. She was so sure she'd known Finn.
Known who he was deep down, known more about him than a name could ever tell a person. And now even the small corporeal shreds of him she'd held in her hands were slipping through her fingers as his ghostly finger was far away from her.
Physically, he was distant. Had he always been emotionally so as well?
Murielle felt her hair brush forward, flowing in a wind she hadn't realised existed as she stared at the same page continuously. With unsteady hands, she placed the book back down, a headache forming the more she looked at the evidence of deceit. She looked around for the window she had to close but found none open; not even the door was open wide enough for the draft that had her hair floating in front of her face.
Like tendrils, her lock of hair were reaching towards the book before her. No matter which way she turned, they always pointed to the same words. Small sounds of whooshing air flew past her ears, gradually growing in noise level until she felt she was in the middle of a storm.
Her body would not move in the eye of the storm. A storm that only affected her hearing and hair.
A voice spoke up in the empty room; it's voice made of the wind that whipped around her. Made of nature, of the most harrowing of nature. "Why would he owe you the truth when you didn't offer it in return?"
Murielle tried desperately to search for the voice around Finn's room but soon had to turn back to face the book when her hair got in her eyes. This disembodied voice was simultaneously sharp and soft on her ears. Where was Bekah when she needed her?
Goddess, she would take Kol over this.
"Imagine how betrayed he felt to find out how truly broken you were." It hissed.
She staggered backwards, away from the voice, away from the torment. Her head remained fixed on the book to save herself from her own hair. Her hand reached blindly behind her for the door. She slipped through but could not escape.
The voice followed her through her house. Echoing off the walls, whirling in a mass of wind around Murielle. "He found out too late that you were just another mad woman. Crazy."
"Shut up!" She cried into the empty house, receiving the howling wind back. Her feet stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping on the first, which did nothing to aid her racing heart. And still the voice persisted.
"He must have been disgusted to have to take care of you. Elijah too; you dragged him into it."
Tears clawed down her cheeks even though she tried to rip them off of her face. Her dress had begun to whip around her body, affected by the invisible storm as well. Her bare feet quickly strode across the floor. She flung the door wide open and stormed out into the clearing.
