[wattys 2018 shortlisted]
Humans see her as a dangerous threat -a witch that must be executed. With the uncontrollable ability to form ice at her fingertips, Ravenna is forced into hiding amongst the humans, stealing to survive. That is, until she h...
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THE PERSON IN front of her was Mylo — but it also wasn't. There was something different. A slight shift in his appearance that wasn't immediately obvious to Ravenna. She stared at him for a moment, cautious. Her expression remained guarded.
"Do not tell me that you've forgotten already," he said with a small chuckle.
"That is a good attempt," she remarked. "However, I can tell that you are not Mylo. You are hiding behind a spell."
His lips twitched back into a small smile.
"It really is harder to shape-shift into a specific form more than once," the assassin stated casually. "The little details are so very important. One mistake and the spell is quite easily detected, even by the humans around you."
He lifted a hand to his head, the tip of his index finger glowing bright white with magic. His lips moved around a soundless spell as he tapped his finger against his temple. A shimmer glimmered through the air surrounding him. Pearls of white magic began to appear atop the assassin's skin, rolling toward the earth like beads of sweat. It formed into a bubbling pool at his feet.
His fingers snapped together. The magic vanished.
Ravenna's blood ran ice cold.
Caelan's eyes glimmered with unreadable emotion. "I had to be careful around your little friend," he said. "As much as I adore to shape-shift, I knew he would see through any dramatically altering spell. So I created Mylo. He was an easy character, with just enough visible differences that even Vyses never noticed."
Ravenna could not breathe. Her heart ached inside of her chest. It thumped so loudly that the sound hurt her ears.
"No," she heard herself say. Her voice was soft, a mere distant whisper to her own ears. Her head started slowly shaking back and forth. "This is not possible."
Caelan remained rooted to where he stood, watching her with cautious eyes. Denial washed through Ravenna, beating against her like a tidal wave crashing against a weathered, rocky shore. Tears swelled at the corners of her eyes, tumbling down her cheeks before she even noticed. "This is cruel," she said. She shook her head at the Caelan standing before her. "This is just plain cruel."
He watched her with cautious eyes. He gently set the mask down, atop the mattress. He then lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture, his palms turned outward and facing her. "It is me, Ravenna," he said. His voice was calm — it overflowed with a sense of patience and familiarity. "Genuinely."
"I'm dreaming," she whispered, mostly to herself. Her voice sounded broken. "This isn't real."
"Ravenna," he said calmly, "It is. I am real."
So many thoughts flooded through her. She wanted to pinch herself — to prove that it wasn't just a dream. But her body refused to listen, refused to move. Nothing worked. A stream of tears flowed heavily down her cheeks, burning her skin. Her face pinched into a grimace. "This is a cruel joke," she heard herself whisper again. Her heart raced inside her chest. Each loud thump that the measly organ made sent waves of pain constricting through her chest. The pain tightened around her lungs and stomach. Nausea teased the back of her throat.
