Reflections of Light

Lifting The Lid

Nyx was in a turmoil of emotion. First, they'd found a way to cure him; then, he'd snuck into her room and they'd had sex for the first time- which she'd discovered to be very enjoyable- and now... he was gone. And whilst she was sure the cause was just, she couldn't help but twist inside every time she thought about it. There was always something.

And now, she couldn't help feeling somewhat abandoned and alone. With a lack of anything else to do, she'd retired to her room to hide for the rest of the day; and was now sitting on her bed, surrounded by her few salvaged belongings that she'd somehow managed to haul this far. Sorting through the pieces, she found the box Alysha had gifted her for her birthday; an item she'd both felt enough attachment to to bring, and enough reluctance not to open again.

Except she was alone now, and curiosity was beginning to creep in to fight the boredom. ...She had better control of her powers now; she knew what the visions were and what to expect, and was beginning to understand how they worked… In theory, nothing really bad could happen; nothing might even happen at all. Supposedly no matter how eager things were to give up their secrets, it was her choice whether she wanted to see or not; although that kind of control seemed to elude her most of the time.

But now was her chance to explore; explore the secrets contained by this box, and explore this side of herself that lay waiting like unsculpted clay.

There was no harm in lifting the lid.

The metal hair ornaments rested innocently on the top of the boxes contents; exactly as she remembered them. Tentatively, she reached out, gently picking them up. Nothing happened. Well, not completely nothing; she could feel the memories pricking under the surface, tempting her further in, but she didn’t go. Smiling with newfound confidence, she selected one and brought it to her hair, playing around with styling it. How had Alysha done it?

Finally having both arranged in her hair to her satisfaction, she turned her attention back to the rest of the boxes contents; picking up by its edge the faded photograph. Fascinated, she peered at the eerily familiar scene, raising a finger to gently trace it down the centre of the image.

There was a familiar tug in her gut and her heart began to pound as the picture seemed to swell to fill her vision, drawing her inside...

"Smile!"

The long haired woman smiled widely, adjusting the baby on her lap as she did so; her long white dress hanging gracefully off the elegantly embroidered settee. In front of her stood a second woman, holding a Polaroid camera. Looks-wise the two bore a strong resemblance; both possessing the same tall, elegant frame and  heart shaped face. They both had dark black hair also; however this second woman wore hers cut into a short twenties bob, which she'd decorated accordingly with a fabric headband in peacock greens and blues. She wore a short dress in the same predominant dark blue shade; and around her next hung a long, silver chain, upon which was suspended a large, ornate crucifix pendant.

And the baby; Nyx recognised the baby. It was her. She just knew it to be; and in some ways she always had, ever since she'd first seen the photograph. The child's eyes only confirmed the feeling; as she saw them change from sleepy grey to a joyful blue as she looked up at her mother.

The short-haired woman chuckled; lowering the camera to pluck the photograph out of the bottom. "That's a good one! You'll have to do me and her next. Have you decided on a name yet?"

"I told you, I promised I'd call her Alysha."

"I don't see how some estranged relative from her father's side gets naming rights, over naming her for someone in our family. I get that she's helped you, but really, the guy did you dirty. Give me a name and I'll castrate him for you."

The long haired woman rolled her eyes, mouth curling in a silent laugh of amusement. "Alright, who would I even name her after? Other than you, I don't get on with many people in our family."

The short haired woman gave her a look that said 'duh.'

"You want me to name her after you?" Lifting the child up to rest her against her shoulder, the woman rose from the couch.

"Doesn't have to be her first name." The short haired woman grinned. "I'd be happy with a middle name."

"Alysha Nicasia?" The young mother mused, wrinkling her nose.

"It's got a ring to it!" The short haired woman insisted- Nicasia, Nyx presumed.

"Can you imagine a young child trying to pronounce it?"

"Eh, she'll learn." Nicasia shrugged, putting down her camera on a nearby table to free up her arms. "Now come on, gimme some baby time! She wants a cuddle with her awesome auntie!"

The mother smiled, and relented; depositing baby Nyx into the woman's waiting arms. Both women chuckled at the alarmed look on the child's face at the sudden change of hands; her aunt bundling her up close and rocking her to soothe her once more. "Hello, my sweet. Aren't you a darling?"

The baby gurgled in response; hand making a beeline to grab the dangling pendant. "Oops." Her aunt chuckled, holding the baby in one arm as she slipped the necklace off over her head with the other hand. "That's not for you."

The baby smiled; and her heart melted. "Oh, Evelyn. She's beautiful. Mum and Dad don't know what they're missing out on."

Nyx dropped the photograph like it had burned her. Unknown emotions twisting inside her gut, she leapt back from the photo; scrambling off the bed and for the door in her rush to get away.
Pulling it closed behind her, she leant back against it; breathing hard as she tried to order her racing thoughts.

"Oh, are you alright?"

And there she was. Evelyn. Her mother.

This was not how she'd ever imagined this moment; not that she'd ever ached to know her birth parents, the family she had was all she'd felt she'd ever needed; but if she ever did find out, wasn't it supposed to be some grand magical moment, where they ran into each other's arms and all the puzzle pieces clicked into place?

Instead, she was just stood there, staring wide-eyed at the woman at the other end of the hall, gaping like a fish. Flustered, she scrabbled for the door handle; wrestling the door open and flying back inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

Anyone who's read my last chapter of The Birdcage (Titled 'Worse For Wear' just for reference) might notice some things about this chapter. XD
If not, it doesn't matter. You don't need to read that book to have this chapter make sense. It's just an Easter egg. XD

Also, I'm trying to get into the habit of incorporating more music in chapters, as I have a whole list I planned to use, and kept forgetting to XD