Prophecies and Lies

Chapter Fifteen

Well, another chapter done. It took me a bit of effort, this one, but I actually quite like how it turned out. What do you think? 

Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to a certain ArchEvangely, for beating me, absolutely shattering my hopes and dreams with her writing, and--against all odds--reaching that 50K. I know I've been teasing you, bothering you A LOT the last 29 days, and I hope you can forgive me. I just can't help myself :P.

Anyway, enjoy.

-=-=-=-

          As the morning proceeded, and the sun rose higher and higher in the heavens, the city of Oakes slowly recovered from the celebration of the night before. The first merchant began spreading his wares over a market stall, quickly followed by a second. There weren't many customers, only a few people had dared exit their homes and face the brilliant sunlight. Most people weren't as brave; they stayed hidden in the buildings, preferably still in the comfort of a nice bed.

          And as many adult men and women were doing, so was a child of barely seven years old. The little girl was lying underneath two sets of blankets. She didn't care about how hot this was, but was merely trying to protect herself from the outside world—a world that hurt. Any odd beam of light was far too bright for her and hurt her eyes, and even the slightest of sounds made her head throb. Maya would have cursed her hypersensitive wolf-ears, had it not been the case that she was afraid she might vomit anytime she opened her mouth. She would protect herself with a magic spell, but it was as if her body was drained of all energy, and she was helpless against the pain.

          She lay still under the covers, trying to forget about the awful hangover, to somehow think of something different. This proved impossible though, and cost her the last of her powers.

          However, she was still reluctant to take off the locket. She knew that if she would, she would almost instantly be cured of these horrible consequences of too much alcohol. But the locket was important. It gave June magic powers so she would be able to convince the werewolves that she, and not the little child, was the Immortal. It also hid her own powers, so only a very keen eye would notice them. So she refused to take off the locket. She didn't want to pass these awful pains, this splitting headache, on to June; it wouldn't feel right to let June suffer in her place, especially since June was such a nice person.

          The locket was cold, and it felt good against her skin—unfortunately, the small trinket wasn't enough to cool her whole body. And she feared that it would eventually heat up from the warmth of her body and the heat underneath the blankets, and that she would lose her one precious weapon against the hangover.

          In her short life, Maya had dealt with headaches, or the touch of the flue, or some other illness, before. None of this had prepared her though, for something as brutal as a hangover. As she heard the footsteps in the hallway outside her room thunder in her ears, it felt like her skull was being split in two. She pressed a pillow against her ears, trying to keep the sound from hurting her.

          The door opened with a slight squeak of the hinges—Maya groaned of pain.

          “Are you alright?”

          She didn't respond; she didn't have the strength to, and she just wanted to be left alone. But she wasn't left alone. Instead, she heard the footsteps come closer, wincing at every single one of them.