Young Immortals

Twelve: Flashback #4

"Your name?"

The spirit had no pupils or irises, only two shiny planes where its eyes should be. In their reflection, I caught a glimpse of the toll a year among the fae had taken on me. I really let myself waste away, I noted dispassionately. Skinny as a bone, hollowed-out eyes, lifeless expression.

Without art, I had gotten into a new routine — of sorts. I would sleepwalk through the day until something set me off, and then I'd swallow the pain swelling up my throat, not wishing to embarrass myself further, because the only thing I had left was my pride, and as beaten down as my pride was, I clung to it like a child clings to a stuffed animal. 

I put on a stone-faced expression during the day, and during the night, I cried for hours on end, letting the Bad Thoughts consume me because nothing can be held against you if you keep it a secret, so I did not really cry if no one saw it.

"Copper," I told the spirit.

With my new slippers, I met up with Madame for my daily assignments in record time since I did not have to constantly watch the floors. I had expected receiving the slippers would make me feel excited, but despite my bloody callouses, I almost forgot to put them on and barely noticed their presence. 

Regardless, I continued to make good time on my schedule, until someone pushed me down the main stairwell. I don't much remember the fall. I came to lying at the bottom of the stairs, annoyed that the steps I had just cleaned were splattered with blood. Two coppers argued over me.

"Why the hell did you do that? She wasn't even doing anything."

"She was using the washcloth to draw clouds into the railing."

"That's called scrubbing, moron."

"It's fine." I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the dizziness and nausea rising up my throat. "Just forget about it." 

Then I got on my hands and knees and started scrubbing my blood off the steps, careful to keep my motions strictly horizontal or vertical, nothing curved. This time, I was not acting when I said I was fine. 

I truly felt nothing, and that feeling of nothingness continued as I slipped out of my chamber at midnight, walked the long, empty halls, climbed up the stairs to the astronomy tower, crossed the balcony and sat upon the railing, gazing at the long drop below. 

Miles of land stretched out before, the buildings below but ants. 

A fall from this height would kill me instantly. 

At least, that's what I hoped.

But while my mind had come to terms with my death, my body hadn't. I tried to lean forward, but my hands locked on the railing, frozen in place. 

"You lose nothing," I murmured to myself. "The fall is but a formality." I let out a shaky breath, loosening my grip on the railing, one finger at a time.

"I've been up on a ledge, too."

I whipped around. A striking blonde sat behind me, her brilliant blue eyes fixed on my face. She must have been reading when I came in; a textbook laid half open on her lap. At the sight of her, I stiffened. 

I saw Princess Aerwyna from afar at least once a week, but it was the first time she had ever spoken to me directly – an unwelcome change. Given how coldly she treated the other fey, I could only imagine how she would regard a copper infringing on her free time.

"Let's not do anything rash," she said. "Come inside, let us talk."

"I'm not going inside, but if you like, I can wait to jump until you're inside."

"Very well." She lifted her chin and pushed her shoulders back, summoning all her regal sensibilities. "We will talk here, then."

My eyes narrowed. I tried not to put weight behind rumours, but when the princess' expression and voice did not waver, looking passive, almost bored, I didn't doubt what the other coppers said about her. 

Cold. Frigid. Unfeeling. 

The princess looked into a dying girl's eyes and felt nothing, couldn't even be bothered to get up from her chair. Without a shred of guilt, I turned back to the long drop South. A mortal life is nothing to a fey, after all. They regard the death of mortals like we regard the death of flies.

"I left my sister behind!" Princess Aerwyna burst out.

I paused, startled by the sudden proclamation.

"We were supposed to walk home from a tavern together, but I left early without telling her. She didn't come home that night. Or the next. But two weeks later, in the woods, we finally found her... or what was left of her ..."

My face paling, I glanced over my shoulder. The princess' face was as flat and passive as ever, but her hands did not lie. She white-knuckled her book so hard that the spine indented. With a start, I realised it wasn't that she won't get up from the chair. She can't get up. She was scared to her bones, petrified with fear.

"Dying would have been easier than living with the guilt, but if I had given into the darkness and joined my sister in the grave, the males who brutalised her would have won." Princess Aerwyna's eyes burned into mine, bright and demanding, like blue fire. "You can't yield, either. Whoever pushed you onto that ledge, you must live to make them regret it."

"I have no one to blame but myself," I said quietly, the wind stealing half my words. "I misplaced my trust and made a foolish bargain – an eternal bargain. So long as I draw breath, this mask is stuck to my skin. There is no redemption for me, not in this life."

"Have you forgotten who you are speaking to?" Princess Aerwyna demanded. "I am a princess – a fey princess, of the archfae blood. You will be shocked by the things we can do. I may not be able to lift your bargain, but say the word, and I could grant boons beyond your wildest desires. Displaced mountains, drowned villages, enough riches to bury a city, a potion of –"

"Paint," I blurted out. "I want to paint again. Please."

She stopped short to study me, her brows pinching together, her stare darting from my left eye to my right. "Outside of breaking your vow, you can ask for anything you want. Anything in the world."

"Oh. Can I have some brushes too, then? And maybe a canvas?"

She continued to stare.

I looked away, my face hot. "I ask for too much —"

"No," she said quickly, offering her hand. "Forget the canvas. Step down from the railing, and I'll build you a whole studio."