The Gift

Chaper Fourteen

 

Upon leaving, I sought out the only two people in all the Twelve Isles who knew my full story.  Using my visions to guide me, I found them on the Sixth Isle in the Western Province.  I stayed in an inn my first night there, and utilized the bathroom to change my hair again.  I set hair dye and scissors on the counter surrounding the sink and gazed at my reflection in the mirror.

 

The face I’d always been careful to keep void of emotion looked emptier than usual.  My eyes seemed dull and lifeless.  It seemed almost ironic that what I’d strived for since I became the Seeress came effortlessly now.  I tried to smile at myself in the mirror, but it looked forced and empty even to me.

 

I ran my fingers through the black shoulder length locks that adorned my head.  As I gazed at my reflection, I knew how I was going to change my hair.  Picking up the scissors, I started to snip away at my locks.  When I was finished, my hair was short and had choppy layers, the longest of which reached my chin.  I gave myself bangs that reached my ears.  With the side part it now held, the bangs swooped down to partially cover one of my eyes unless I pushed it back.

 

Next was the dye.  After a careful application of it and sitting in the bathroom for an hour, I rinsed it out.  When my hair dried, it was purple.  I smiled at myself again in the mirror, pleased with my new look.  This time the smile seemed almost genuine.  Satisfied with how it had turned out, I crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep.

 

When I awoke the next morning, I quickly dressed and made my way to my destination, stopping to buy breakfast along the way.  When I arrived, I took a moment to look at the complex where I had spent close to two years of my life.  The only place that most visitors saw was the business office in the building closest to the street.  It was there that I entered.  The boy behind the counter barely glanced at me.  He couldn’t have been more that sixteen years old, I judged.

 

“State your business,” he said in a bored tone.

 

“Tell Jeremiah that his favorite student is here,” I answered.

 

“Name?”

 

“He’ll know who I am.”

 

“Jeremiah doesn’t take students on.  Who are you?”

 

“He will know who I am.  So will Amelia.  I suggest that you go fetch him.”  I toyed with my dagger strapped to my thigh.  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me but went to the back door to talk to somebody quietly.

 

“Go get Master Jeremiah.  Tell him there’s a purple haired girl to see him,” I heard him tell somebody.

 

“Don’t forget to tell him that his favorite student is here,” I called.

 

“Student?” I heard a girl’s voice ask.  “Master doesn’t take on students.  He never has.”

 

“Just go tell him,” he boy replied.  I could hear agitation in his voice.  The girl hurried off and the boy came back to the counter.  “Who are you, really?” he asked me.