Seven Souls |Updates Fridays|

10 Nyka Larkin

_Nyka Larkin_

"Nyka," A voice called out to him. He ignored it, kicking rocks behind the inn. It had been three days since his outburst and he couldn't find it in him to be the same anymore. Perhaps it was just a drawn out fit, but he was ashamed of what he'd done that day.

Never in his life had he made his grandmother cry like that. He was sorry beyond words- he even apologized but that did not feel like enough. Not only had he hurt her, he had also revealed himself to Ingrid and Byrne. No one was supposed to know he was the way he was and he ruined it. Would they move again? He hoped not.

"Nyka," The voice repeated. He looked up to see Ingrid standing at the back steps of the inn. She looked like a concerned mother. Nyka didn't like the way she looked at him. He didn't have a mother. He didn't need one. He had his grandmother and that was enough.

"Come inside, Nyka, ye've been standing around out here for an hour now,"

Without a word, he walked towards Ingrid, and then right past her, no doubt leaving her with more concern. From there he walked through the kitchen and then out to the stairs and climbed them, going to his room silently. Once there, he sat on his bed and grabbed his book. Lately he had been indulging in his studies more. He had little else to do since he was unable to go to the forest. Not only that, but he hadn't done a single trick in those past three days.

Only, they weren't tricks. They really were magic. He huffed at the thought. What was the use of magic if you couldn't do anything with it? He said nothing more however, not wanting to work himself up again. Not only had the outburst scared his grandmother, it had honestly scared him

If he could tear apart a room just by being upset, what would he do if he was truly angry? The thought made him shiver. Nyka didn't want to accidentally harm someone beyond repair- he didn't want to harm anyone in general, physical or mental.

He continued to read his book in melancholy silence but a voice interrupted him. How long had he been lost in the book? An hour? Perhaps more? He did not know. It seemed that this was the first time he had not fallen asleep or found something else to do. Infact, he had only a few pages left before he was finished. He wondered if this would make his grandmother happy.

"Nyka," The voice had called out to him. His grandmother.

"Coming," He called as he set aside his book, walking to the stairs and swiftly descending it.

There stood his grandmother with a broom in hand. "Would you mind sweeping the floor for me dear? I am afraid that Ingrid has taken the rest of the day off and the other staff will not be here until an hour to dinner." She explained to him.

He wordlessly nodded and took the broom from her. She gave him a hesitant gaze before walking to the kitchen. The same kitchen he had destroyed not three days ago. The thought had him look down, gripping the broom tightly in his hands for a moment. They had not let him help clean up the mess he made. He wanted to help but Ingrid had suggested he go to bed early for the night. Bryre had come to wish him well off but Nyka had laid on his side, away from the man, and said nothing.

Thinking back on it, Nyka might have hurt the man's feelings. That thought made him frown as he started to sweep the floors. He wanted to apologize. He already had plenty of times but something in him compelled him to apologize plenty times more. Yet, he could hardly get himself to speak at all.

He wondered if Ingrid had left because he wouldn't talk to her. The thought made him sad. He wondered if she was going to quit because he was dangerous. He bit his bottom lip at the idea of being dangerous. The people after him thought he was of the devil. Were dangerous people of the devil? It sounded fitting.