Not Just a Luna

Chapter 26

Even the birds go silent as Mikaela slips off the stretcher, bright-eyed. She looks around, smiles a warm smile, and cocks her head to the side. "How'd I get here?" She asks, and then frowns, "Actually... what happened?"

Suddenly, her warm eyes turn sad, turning watery. "Didn't I get..." She looks down and gasps at her red shirt. More accurately, her once blue shirt which was now stained by her own blood.

"How am I still..." An expression of pain flashes on her face, making her usually childlike features look years more mature. "But... how?"

The doors of the estate fling open and two women run out. They each take one of Mikaela's arms, and she throws them off but follows them inside.

As the doors swing shut behind them, every eye turns towards me.

I look around in confusion. Is there something on my face? I suddenly remember the only reason they'd look at me so strangely. Mikaela. I'd done right, though, hadn't I?

"Violet." The Queen's face is neutral, a staged blank canvas. "Let's go inside and... talk about this a little."

"Okay" I nod my head in agreement.

The doors swing open once again, and the Queen walks in front of me, and I follow. The rest of the witches slowly follow, muttering to each other. No doubt that it's about me.

We walk through the familiar hallways, but the uncertainty that radiates from everyone, makes the halls feel colder than they ever have before. 

We eventually reach the room in which I have spent much of my time trying to study, the library. The walls lined with books, the small cafe-booth like tables. I find that I feel like this place is home more than I ever did back at my pack.

Home.

Do I really consider this place 'home'? I spent over 17 years with Nightingale, I have so many good memories. But at the same time, I was always so separated, and alone. The same faces got boring after a while. I learnt to ignore that feeling, but here, even though I was no-one to them, I became part of it all.

This place feels alive more than my house at home did.

I realise now that I could count the number of people who I have counted as friends in my whole life on my fingers.

1. Alex

2. Cassidy

3. Melissa

4. Jasmine

5. My mother

6. My father

Two-thirds of those people were adults, and one of the kids was family. The other, well, he was my neighbour.

The sad thing is, that apart from them, I can probably only name the names of less than 5 other members.

I really was alone, wasn't I?

But here, even though I hated being stuck in a room full of kids, I loved the evenings, with a few dozens of us on the long tables. I guess I could call this place home, in a way.

I sit down at the booth, across from the Queen, as I have been many times before, during long evening conversations as I tried to read about magic. There are so many magicks, but I feel that the sharing of magicks will never be my thing, as I would never be able to spell correctly enough to write a scroll.

"Violet," the Queen's face looks distant as if she is thinking of some other event, or some other time, "Did you do what I thought you did, before?"

"I-I think so." My nerves get to me. By her calm demeanour, I think I've done nothing wrong, but she is the master of deception. At least I know that she can sense that I meant well. Spirit magick seems to be one of the more useful types.

She sighs, "Maybe I should be more direct. Violet, did you heal Mikaela."

I hesitate and then answer "I believe so. I think that I did..."

"How?"

I stay silent, unsure of how to word it, but know that she is expecting an answer, "I honestly don't know. It just felt natural."

Suddenly, she gets out a knife and holds it up.

Am I going to die?

She suddenly brings it down, striking herself with it, a deep cut in her left arm.

She laughs, "That hurt."

I look at her, "What was that for?"

The Queen still smiles, "I don't know, Violet, what was it for?"

My eyes light up in realisation, and I also feel the need to know that what I did before wasn't just my imagination.

I reach out to her and take her pale hand as she drops the knife.

I can feel it, once again. The pain, it hurts. I don't understand her earlier laughter, but this doesn't compare to Mikaela's. 

I start the same way as I did before, putting pressure on the wound. The flesh, the particles, forcing them to become looser is so natural, and I can't understand why the Queen asks me to do this when it is so easy.

She feels so close like I am her. Making the particles looser reminds me of transforming in a way, how you turn from wolf back to human. I haven't transformed since I came here, and I don't feel the need for it anymore.

The adrenaline I felt from that is amplified a thousand times when using magic.

I feel that no vein is broken, and work from the inside out, thing layers of particles becoming a liquid-like state, then setting them back together. Time works slower, and the particles become malleable, but not so loose as to wreck the entire of her arm. I don't know how I know the right amount, nor how to set it, but I just do.

Soon, the final layer of skin is mended, and I let go of her.

I look at the scar on her arm, the skin likely forever stained by haphazard work.

"I'm sorry," I say to the Queen, looking down in shame.

"Whatever for?"

"Your arm will likely have that scar forever."

"Oh, Violet," she laughs, "This is a great thing. Another small mark on my skin means nothing. Now, we need to begin to work on this affinity of yours!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey, readers!

I'm thinking of writing another book with this one (not a sequel, sorry) but about Mikaela, as her experiences have been a bit special. Would anybody be interested in that?

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! It'd be greatly appreciated if you voted or left a comment.

Hope to see you in the next chapter!

~EarlyDusk