Scarred

Chapter 7

Lucky's POV
Snow. I shouldn't be surprised that it's snowing, it's been getting colder by the day. I hope Cassie and Hunter will be alright on their mission with Apollo.

I want to get to know Eva better, I've been all awkward around ever ever since the day she got here. I feel bad, she seems like a nice girl and I don't want her to think I dislike her or anything.

"It snowed on the day of the fire..." she mutters as Cas sits asleep on the corner of the bed.

"The fire in Surrek?" I ask from behind. I bet she didn't even realise I was here. She nods, still looking through the window at the snow dancing to the ground.
"In some ways, you're lucky, at least both of your parents are still alive," I sigh, sitting down on the bed.
"Your parents died?"
"They were both killed. By the queen."

Somehow the mere mention of her is enough for Eva to tense up and not even the view of the snow can calm her down.

"I know how it feels, to feel like you're a curse to everyone around you," I say.
"You feel that way too?"
"Most half bloods too. For simply being associated with us, the people around us could be killed. I suppose it's particularly bad for you considering you have Cas. How did you two meet?"
"By sheer luck. If it weren't for our encounter, he would've bled to death and I would've either been taken back to the palace, forced to continue such a cold life, or I probably would've died during my search for warmth."

"You're peculiar, you know that right?"

"In so many ways."

"Well maybe not in the way you think. Don't you think it's odd that you managed to curse yourself, that you can look at your own soul? No other half blood can do that, if we were able to curse ourselves most of us would've ended up with a cold and colourless world."

My parents were killed when I was no more than four years old. It's a sight that - even sixteen years later - I can't block out. I used to see it all the time, it would plague my thoughts, send me into a spiral of fear and anxiety.

Unlike many half bloods, my mother was the Pure out of my parents. Luckily everyone just assumed she died in the war, it went on for so long it's no surprise people struggled to keep track of who really died.

If Eva was born near the end of the war, I was somewhere near the beginning. Six years before a half blooded princess took her first breath. Both of my parents were dead long before she was born.

I don't remember much about my parents, just the things I would repeat to myself about them for the days I sat by their rotting corpses, a mixture of red and white blood covering my hands.

Mother: Ophelia Carol. Hardworking, strong, warm.

Father: Kyan Bishop. Loyal, caring, warm.

Me: little Lucy Bishop. A monster, a curse, cold.

Cold like their bodies. Cold like the woman I watched murder them. Cold like the breeze that weaved its way into the house through shattered windows and an ajar door.

Until one day.

I was still sat there, repeating those words, repeating all I knew in my moment of distress and panic. I heard a voice, though it didn't snap me out of the daze, not at first at least. But when a hand was placed onto my shoulder, I curled into a ball of fear, begging to be both spared and killed. I didn't want to suffer, but I found myself to be the catalyst for my parents' deaths.

"What should we do with the kid? She's clearly a half blood, should we just put her out of her misery already?" One of the voices said, making me wince in fear.
"No... you guys go ahead. If I can get her to talk, I'll take her with me. An orphan is a tragic thing, but it's part of war. Hopefully I'll be able to help her, children don't deserve to be caught up in the adults' fight," another replied, placing a hand on my head.
"That's rich, coming from you. How old are you again? Sixteen, you're not even an adult yourself Claude."
"Just get going."