Hated

Part X | Sorry, Yet?

I kept my head bowed, knowing the highlights in my hair were black as ink. Tears trickled down my cheeks and my shoulders shook. I normally didn't cry. It was far too vulnerable a state and I was around no one I trusted. Plus, I hated crying. I didn't want anyone to worry about me, or innocently ask "Are you ok?" Relying on people wasn't something I could always count on.

I whimpered, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt to hold back a sob. I felt terrible. I couldn't stand watching the wounded and dead carried through the doors every day, knowing they were fighting for what they believed in.

Fighting to control me.

And I had just added another soldier to the battlefield.

Contrary to popular belief, my hair didn't change based on the light. It changed based on my light. The way I felt.

And my hair hadn't been gold since December and we were halfway through November.

Which meant I was depressed.

I don't know what had driven it home to me. Maybe it was the day I had finally translated that damn prophecy and stared in horror at the words that met my eyes. Maybe it was when Salazar died, staked through the heart, blood-red eyes turning glassy and dull. Maybe it was Tasov, trapped under a collapsed mountain, left to live out the rest of his days starving and thirsty, until the immortal's body finally gave out. All the people I failed to save and for what? Because they believed in me? When I'd started a civil war?

I should just say it. Walk out and announce to all the worlds that I was sticking with the elves and nothing they did would stop me. But then what? So I'd save a few soldiers, but what about later? What about another disaster? Where would they be if I couldn't help them?

My tears ebbed slowly, like a dammed flood. They weren't drying up, oh no, I was just locking them up inside me again. Trying to stay "strong."

This was why I told Leaf to cry. I told her to get it out so she wouldn't be embarrassed later. So she wouldn't be so out of touch with her emotions that she fell into depression. So she could return home mostly undamaged.

I stood up slowly, swallowing a broken cry. No one was coming for me, not with Mëritheu covering my tracks. Lo- my shifter was gone, no longer following my every move. Which meant, that for the first time in almost two years, I was free to do whatever I wished without anyone knowing.

I lifted my chin and stood up straight, holding my thumb and middle finger poised to snap. I just hoped I could remember the correct sequence to get there.

I snapped my fingers and found myself in front of a blank marble wall, with black, rotting ivy crawling over the surface. I swallowed heavily. I shouldn't be doing this. It wouldn't help my current state, but I couldn't bring myself to care as I pressed my thumb and pinky fingers together and snapped again, nearly stumbling as a wave of heat washed over me.

Lava bubbled at my feet as I clung to the obsidian wall, wishing I was going anywhere other than where I was. I knew why I was going. I knew it was dangerous. I knew it was a supremely bad idea, but... I just didn't have the strength to fight anymore.

Shivering despite the heat, I pressed my thumb to my pointer finger and snapped again. This time when I teleported, I felt the old familiar sensation that burned through my veins, searching to make sure I was a witch, allowed to go through the barrier between worlds, universes and dimensions. Allowed to land in the dark, dusty chamber that it hurt so much to see.

A mewl slipped from my lips as I cast a shattered gaze around the room. The door- or rather, the arch where the door had once been -was blocked by a pile of rubble. The half-unraveled sheet and moth-eaten pillow were coated with a heavy layer of dust and the frame of the bed was twisted and decaying. The tapestries on the walls sagged on splintery rods and frayed strings clinging to rusted hooks embedded in the wall. A sickly sweet smell permeated the room, like ancient perfume. I stepped off of woody, thorny stems from aged withered roses, hoping none had pierced my feet.