The truth hidden behind the moon's shadow was not easy to unveil. Now the fight for freedom will be all blood and bones. War is brewing on the edge of the horizon and kingdoms will fall at the tip of her blade.
***
Onyx Ashrevion is a demi-hybrid an...
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Solyerian was over as the fourth day welcomed the tribal grounds, the stormy clouds in the sky signaling the official end of the three day holiday.
Onyx rose up early the next day, taking in her bare room and bare legs. Her hair was disheveled on her head, the cold wind from the window whipping her skin with goosebumps. She felt empty, emotionless as she got up and headed over to the showering chambers.
She took her time, undressing and soaking her body in the last bath she would ever take on the tribal grounds. Her body slipped and sunk into the warm water until the water was up to her chin, her wet hair sticking to her skin.
Thoughts swam in her head, pounding into her skull until she could no longer think. The Siphon didn't even know what to think at this point in her life. So many questions lingered inside her head, begging to be answered but none had the courage to actually slip past her lips.
All she knew was that she was that the minute she would step off the tribal grounds and flee to Elsavior with Draco, she would be free. Free to walk down her own path and free to conquer her own destiny. And right now, that is all that mattered.
When her fingers had prune from the water, the Siphon rose up and dried herself with the towel. She wrapped a robe around her body and toweled her hair off before heading back to her hut. She stopped at the stables to retrieve Aithne, pulling on her gold reins and guiding her back to her hut. Once near, she had the horse wait outside while she went inside to get ready.
On the oak chair laid her clothes she had set out for the day's occasion, a red cloak draped over her clothes and the ruby necklace Draco had given her tossed on top of it.
Onyx quickly got ready, doing any necessities possible before pulling on the pair of jeans and her midnight blue shirt. Her slightly dry hair now tumbled down past her shoulders in stringy curls. She strapped her diligent sword to her hips before pulling her red cloak over her shoulders and fashioning the necklace around her neck, clipping the gold lock together.
The Siphon dove underneath her bed, pulling out the black bag she had packed all her necessary stuff in. It was quite heavy but she didn't complain as she slung it over her shoulders, unzipping it. She dug around until her fingers curled around the carefully crafted end of a mirror.
Cautiously, she pulled it out and stared at her reflection for the last time on the tribal grounds. The girl that stared back at her was weak, defeated with dark bags underneath her eyes and a bony figure. Her collarbones protruded from a thin layer of skin, her cheekbones jutting from her face. Even her breasts, once full and voluptuous, were now flattening against her chest.
Even her eyes, once a lustrous gold ringed with a vibrant emerald that commanded power and attention, dulled into nothing but black, rusty coals and dying forest that screamed vulnerability and uselessness.
"So this is the woman you have become Onyx," the Siphon said, taking in a deep sigh. "This is what vulnerability and emotions do to you. Well, it's not a very good color on you, dear Siphon" she continued, talking to herself in the mirror. A hum escaped her lips, a hand running through her tangled locks.
