The Shadows of Blood

Chapter Five: Mr. Foamlox

"Don't worry, you are just as sane as I am." 

― Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter)

Driven near the verge of madness the next few days, Alina spent most of her time in her room  reading, without really concentrating, all the unread books piled high in the corner and sometimes jogging down random thoughts on loose leaves of paper, only to crumple them up and watch them turning to ash in the hearth.

Saffi made occasional visits and they would sit on the messy paper-covered floor, conversing in low mutters in case anyone was listening in.

Those were the only moments she looked forward to now, never before had the castle seemed so cold and unfamiliar. She rarely made her way down to the dining hall for meals anymore, but instead had Rebecca bring them up to her room, trying very hard to ignore how Rebecca flinched everytime she saw her.

She had learned not to explode everytime someone blamed her for the Marchioness's murder, because she found that this only made people more terrified of her. She tried, without any luck, to convince them that she only saw it and didn't make it happen, but almost everyone stood their ground in believing that she had killed one of the most important members in the royal household.

The crystal pendant lay momentarily forgotten on a dusty display cabinet full of golden necklaces and other jewelry. She had taken it off at last, but that didn't stop her having nightime visions that had turned out to be real. Alina hadn't been keen to touch it ever since she had that horrible dream that had caused all her troubles. She did not fully understand why Saffi didn't mention it  anymore, nor why he hadn't taken it from her (wasn't it supposed to be really dangerous?) But she didn't dare ask in case he changed his mind.

Nothing especially attention-worthy happened until about a week after the incident. True, she did have another several unwelcomed dreams of blood and shadows that turned out to be true once she woke up, but after several times, night only seemed to be a kind of torturous journey through a kingdom of horror that she had to endure every single night.

It was another morning with the golden sunlight streaming through the curtains; Alina woke to find herself sprawled on the floor, her breath still shallow from the horrible vision of a collasped bridge, when there came a knock at the door. Wondering vaguely whether it was Rebecca coming to confirm what she had just dreamt of, she called 'Come in.'

But the person who stepped out of the shadows was not Rebecca, but a stout man with a very clean shaven face wearing a business-like suit.

Alina did not immediately recognize him, but when she did, her heart sank even lower for this was Mr. Foamlox, the chairman of the Council.

'Good morning.' He said politely, inclining his head to one side, and Alina could not help to see the somber expression on his face, as though he was about to declare some awful news.

They shook hands.

'What brings you here?' Alina asked finally, mustering up her courage. If he did come to report dreadful deaths or another disaster, the sooner it was over, the better.

'A trial.' He said.

This on itself as confusing enough. 'What trial?' Alina asked.

'Your trial,' Mr. Foamlox said gravely, 'Held upon convicted murder of Marchioness Clementine.'

'But...' She couldn't find words, 'I did not kill her.' Was all she managed.

'However much you might try to deny it,' Mr. Foamlox said. 'All the evidence point your way, and therefor a trial must be held.'

Alina's anger was at boiling point now, why wouldn't anyone beleive her? Why did they all blamed her simply because she was the first one to know about it?

'Then we'll set it to be on the...'

'Then I'm not going!' She did not know where this jolt of courage came from, nor why she had yelled at Mr. Foamlox so loudly.

He blinked, looking thoroughly confused, 'You must understand...'

The surge of energy that seized Alina was not hers, she did not know where the infinite rush of power came from. There was a blinding light at the back of her eyes, her arms seemed to lift on their own accord, as something red shot out of her fingertips, landing directly on Mr. Foamlox's chest.

Mr. Foamlox screamed, as, clawing at his chest, he backed away from the room.

She gasped, staggering backwards and regaining control over her body. The jolt of energy had vanished as quicly as it had come, but the harm was done.

She was a sorceress now.