I think the “curse” is more the people posting are majority adults and shit happens. I prefer ao3 as a posting site but that’s just me.
I DID IT!
After waiting two and a half weeks for an invitation to sign up, I finally did it.
I went from to Wattpad to tumblr to a03 and I gotta say both are really fucking different from a03. When setting this up, I stared at the screen like…
I filled out best to my knowledge…if there’s anything I need to change or adjust, please lmk, idk wtf im doing on a03
I also did upload the story to my old Wattpad account @big_poppa123. Fair warning if you do read it there, I have my really old cringe stories I wrote so…you’ve been warned
It had been three months since the runaway Prince had found himself in the crew of the infamous Pirate Queen. During their lengthy journey, no one had begun to suspect his true identity. When the Black Rock crew docked in the renowned Grandmont Wharf for a resupply, Zagan found himself surrounded by the most exalted criminals of the Pirate world. Would he be able to keep his identity a secret in a place such as this?
Read here! | Dividers by @angeliicide | Moots DM for Discord Server
Kudos, comments and reblogs are hugely appreciated as I'm having to rebuild my community on here after having to delete my old blog <3
Gay Romance Reviews is hosting a promotional tour and celebration of my my forthcoming book NINE-TENTHS. Want a free copy of the book to read and review?
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About the Book
NINE-TENTHS
Colin Levesque is at loose ends. He's finished university, but has no career; he adores romance novels, but he's crap at relationships; and his prickliness is a detriment at the café where he's making ends meet. He also has a crush on his regular Dav, a homo draconis who comes in every morning to read his newspaper, sip his double-strong coffee, and stare longingly at Colin in return.
So it figures that the day Colin gets up the courage to do something about the sexual tension simmering between them, he also learns that Dav has an embarrassing habit of hiccupping fire when he's nervous. Which, in this case, destroys the fancy custom-made bean roaster. When Dav volunteers to take over the coffee roasting with his fire-breath, being squished together in the hot, cramped kitchen leads to even hotter kisses.
Everything's finally happening for Colin—until people start claiming the dragon-roasted coffee has cured their genetic ailments. As their budding relationship struggles under the scrutiny of scientists and media, the hype around the coffee leads the lovers to be inducted into a centuries-old conspiracy: dragon-roasted food has always healed humans. And the most powerful draconic nobles have been withholding this symbiotic advantage to keep themselves on top. Colin and Dav are determined to expose the truth, but if they're not careful, their objections could goad power-mad monarchs into destroying everything they hold dear.
Being a Bi writer is hard sometimes. Mainly because my works are written with the intention that you’re supposed to want the character AND the reader-insert carnally, but I keep forgetting most people reading these types of fics do NOT want Y/N as carnally as I do sometimes! 😭
You know, idw1's Decepticons(really any version of the Decepticons that started with them opposing a fascistic government) are very reflective of how people see radical action. The Autobots are the good guys because they want to change the system from within, and the Decepticons are the bad guys because they use violence to fight back against their oppressors. Now I'm aware that the Decepticons can truly be despicable people, I'm not saying otherwise. Megatron killed a hundred billion people for crying out loud. Still, their origins are honestly emblematic of how people see activism. Peaceful protests, and working within the system are seen as acceptable, but violence? Wouldn't that be too far?
And idw2's Decepticons become a good contrast to the idw1 Decepticons where they are hard-line conservatives. Go back to the way things are, smaller central government, organics bad, make cybertron great again. And the Autobots consequently become a representation of the ineffectiveness of democrats. Megatron is Trump, and Optimus...I don't really know who Optimus would represent, now that I think about it.
(the witches/ghost story, apart of my short story collection 'The Ballad of Hollowfaye' also available to read on wattpad)
Three witches (two Vespers and a Depraysier) and a mortal unite over a Ouija board in the Vespers' haunted house and try to commune with the spirits of their brutally murdered and dearly departed family.
Genre: YA Fantasy
Word Count: (to be determined)
(Pt 6)
Wind is an omen in nearly every culture. Considering it's the windiest day of the year, I hope it's a good one. It's off to a bad start considering I was caught between being upset that Fives had invited a stranger to tag along on our Halloween plans—and being stupid quiet because she'd stripped into the costume she hadn't worn to school. They wouldn't allow her to wear it. Not without the tights or the jacket or the long-sleeved shirt under it.
My eyes were glued to her legs. They followed her as she paced around her bedroom.
"What if she canceled? What if she's too scared?" She turned to me abruptly, her almond eyes frantic.
And for a second, we stared at each other. Because my mouth wouldn't open. And if I could find my words, they would've been along the lines of, 'Why couldn't you see that I wanted to be alone with you? Was it you who couldn't take the hint or is it me?'
She sucked in a deep breath, blinking rapidly all the while as if I'd actually asked the stupid question. Her hands straightened the bottom of her skirt, pulling it down slightly.
"Sorry..." And then her eyes widened.
Mine would've too if I weren't used to her already. Sometimes I think she can read my mind--the way she just knows things sometimes--but I know this is all my fault. I have an expressive face, and right now it's saying, 'I can't stop looking at your legs, and I feel really guilty about it.'
"Look, maybe we should talk about last night?" She pulled the fabric down further, as if she's had just about enough of my gaze, as if she's seen my thoughts and is disgusted by them. And I knew exactly where this is going:
'Abbotticus, I love you too. As a friend. Can you like please stop staring at me now?'
I bolted to my feet and finally, my mouth worked and my eyes found hers, and whatever words my lips couldn't form before, I tried to send her telepathically. And she flinched... My heart pounded in my chest. I was ruining this. I couldn't believe I was ruining this.
"I'm sorry, Sadbh," I would sayand I wouldn't use her nickname, something I always do, because I would want her to know that I'm sorry and I'm serious, and ruining this is the last thing I wanted to do, "I can make these stupid feelings go away. I promise."
But instead, I said nothing.
Because a deep, hollow knock came from the front door. Someone was using the actual real knocker, the Pentagram that traps evil within the segments and vertices. I never used it. Nobody ever used it. This stranger was a fearless fool.
The echo rumbled through the entire house, shaking the walls, vibrating the floors, clattering the windows. Fives' eyes widened, full of glee and I froze. She looked genuinely happy for a second, like the girl she was before everything.
"She's here!" She clapped her hands together and sped through the door, "Come on, Abbott! The spirit board is down here!"
My heart thrilled in my chest. A spirit board? She wasn't seriously expecting me to exist in the same room with something like that? It wasn't even like I believed in it, but I didn't want to go out of my way to prove myself wrong. Not in this house--which even Fernezra has said was haunted--not on Halloween night either. If anything out of the ordinary happened, it would be because we were asking for it...
I followed her anyway.
She didn't even bother to check the peephole before she opened the door! She was even more fearless than the fool!
"You came!" She shrieked. I flinched at the high pitch as she pulled Malin inside. And it was the craziest thing--I flinched even harder at her appearance. Her bone-white skin, sunken cheeks, almost-luminescent gray eyes... Who the hell was this girl?
Her eyes found me and jolted a shock down my spine. She didn't smile--didn't react at all-- when she greeted me, "Abotticus Jinx."
She knew my name... My full name...
"May-lin." A smirk found my lips. I wasn't even the smirking type. It brought me great joy though, pretending to have power over her the way she did over me.
"It's Malin." Fives cut in. My eyes snapped to hers and she was frowning at me.
I wanted to ask why she was protecting her. This girl didn't need protecting, her appearance did that well enough for her. I wanted to ask why she'd invited someone she'd barely known a day into her house. Something held me back. Something was always holding me back in that house.
"The dining room is through there--" she pointed through the archway, "--now where is-- FERN!" Malin passed through the door just as Fernezra's laugh answered from the kitchen.
"Coming, coming, I have treats."
I was about to follow them inside, but Fives grabbed my wrist. An electric warmth cascaded in waves all the way down my arm, all over my body, and then I turned and met her eyes, and the waves turned to ice in my stomach.
"I know you're upset--" she murmured. It was like she was scared she'd break me.
"I'm not upset."
"You're hurt." My mouth snapped shut. "And I'm sorry. I promise there will be time for us tonight, but right now, this is important to me... I need you to give her a chance." Her voice cracked and she turned back toward the archway, wiping her eyes, "If that's not enough for you then you can leave."
She was cold and tense. The old vulnerable Fives left, and I wanted the right to miss her, but I understood too well why she had to go. I nodded even though she couldn't see me, and I tried to free the tension all over my body. It was no use.
My instincts were telling me there was something wrong here and they hadn't shut up about it since Malin arrived. Wouldn't that make her the problem? Isn't she who they're trying to warn me about?
I went against them and followed Fives. Malin had already made herself at home, sitting at the head of the table, picking up the ancient wooden planchet, and peeking through the glass hole. The corner of her mouth pulled up.
"You were right. There are many haunts here tonight." Her pupil dilated inside her magnified eye. It was such a metallic silver it was almost purple, and she smiled, "They seem to be intrigued with your mortal."
A cold chill slapped me hard on the neck and it didn't leave. Her smile widened, and I was sure it was the cause of the floor swaying beneath me. My brain was melting, just something else I was sure of. The floor groaned as their chairs slid against it. Fernezra's voice cut through the fog.
"Jinx, you look pale. Try some of these," Her footsteps rattled my melted brain, her sharp nails cut into my palm as she pressed something soggy into it.
"What—"
"It's a cupcake. Perfectly moist too."
It dripped through my fingers, splattering into a thousand puddles on the rotted floor. I slurped what was left off of my fingers, and the shaking in my thighs ceased. I stood tall and strong when I sat down at Malin's left, beside Fives.
Neither noticed me, both watched as she traced a finger along the vines carved along the edges of the board. Fernezra was the only other person not trapped within her spell.
"It's been in our family for generations." Fives explained nervously. Her green eyes watched Malin for a reaction.
She only nodded, and her fingers followed the vines down to the words 'Hello' and 'Farewell'. Then they stopped. Suddenly. Coldly. She was still as a corpse.
"Our grandmother used it every day. She said she needed to commune with her mother before she made any decision."
Fern but in with a, "Yes! I remember that. She used to ask her everything! 'Ma, what should I make for dinner? Ma, does this perfume make me smell like a harlot?'"
Fives nodded, her smile fell somberly, "I always thought she smelled nice. Like a nice old lady."
"Mhm," Malin spoke cooly like mist, "Agatha?" Fern and Fives stared at her. Malin stared back. Then she blinked and her eyes focused on something behind Fern.
"Oh. My apologies." She blinked again and her eyes immediately found Fives. "She says you knew her as meemaw." Fern and I gasped, but Fives just clapped her hands in excitement. "She says the perfume did make her smell like a harlot and you'd do well to dispose of yours too."
Fives gasped and I rolled my eyes, "She does NOT smell like a harlot."
The second her eyes found me, I froze.
"Your family has their concerns about continuing this conversation in front of a mortal. They've asked me to inquire if Salem 1692 means anything to you?"
Fives grasped my arm, and it was like the spell broke. My lungs were working again. Those silver eyes had no effect on me. I was free! Her murder attempt failed! She must've been devastated.
"Abbott Jinx isn't like those mortals. He's my bodyguard. He protects us from any harm this way comes."
Malin raised an eyebrow at me. I smiled back. "This boy is your familiar?"
We turned to each other. It took all of two seconds for us to start howling with laughter. It couldn't be real. This girl couldn't be serious. Only the heat of the flickering candles and the smell of the raw pumpkin spice cupcakes reminded me this was reality.
"You laugh in the face of your responsibilities, Mortal? You think protecting the life of a witch is an easy task? Especially the lives of witches that have been cursed and doomed for ages?"
We stopped laughing.
Her eyes were unforgiving, "If this is all a joke to you, perhaps my agreeing to help was a mistake."
Fives jumped up from her seat, knocking it backward. "NO! No, please! This means the entire world to me, please. We're sorry, very very incredibly sorry." I almost thought she was going to fall to her knees and beg for this stranger's forgiveness.
Malin stared her down.
Fives stared back, unwavering.
"Please."
There was a pause. A lull. That is until the sound of Fern slurping her cupcakes shattered the silence. She was barely paying us any mind. Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her fingers dripping batter.
Malin cleared her throat, "It would help if you'd tell me a little bit more about how they died, and when."
"Really?" Fern snorted, "You can't find that out by asking them with your little ghost board?"
Fives ignored her, "It was last winter... They were driving home after a Yule Ritual in the wildwood. Cops said they must've been drunk when they hit a patch of black ice, lost control, wrecked, and animals pulled them from the wreckage and attempted to hide their bodies."
"Animals?"
Fives nodded sarcastically, annoyed at the entire idea, at the incompetency of the force on her parents' case, "Animals."
Fern was more serious when she spoke now, "Okay, look, I get it doesn't sound that plausible when you say it out loud. But this is even more crazy, Sadbh. You're trying to find the person who allegedly murdered your parents through a goddamn spirit board. That sounds less crazy than, I don't know, a bear killing your parents when they wrecked their car in a literal forest?"
Fives waved her off, "Just admit you've never heard of hibernation, Fern. NO BEARS were out at that time."
Fern rolled her eyes, "Okay how about you admit you've never heard of global warming? Bears ARE out at that time nowadays because of overfishing and they haven't enough food TO hibernate, not to mention it doesn't get cold enough. They probably don't even realize it's WINTER anymore."
I regretted being stuck in the middle of this. I was glad when Fives' hand went back to my arm though. Her hands tightened around me. Almost cutting into my skin.
"If you don't want to be here, you can leave. Go gawk over Quinby Digby at the library before it closes or something." She growled.
Malin went to say something, but Fern snapped, "First of all, I gawk over Zaskia, NOT Quinby. Second of all, I'm staying, so when she pulls some rubbish out of her ass, I can say 'See this why we don't listen to scam artists who believe they can communicate with corpses through a plank of wood.'"
I tried to jump in, to maybe bring some peace to the mix, but they cut me off as soon as I got my mouth to work. Malin and I met each other's eyes and it seemed like we were sharing the same thought: This is going to be a long night.
Sadbh crossed her arms sarcastically, "How nice, well I want you to stay so you can find out who killed YOUR family too."
"Sadbh, come on. This is so obviously not real. Right, Abbott? You agree with me?" She looked between her cousin and me. Fives look at me too. And then Malin. Three pairs of eyes were on me and they were all hungry.
I'm no fearless fool, so I hesitated..., "Look, I don't claim to know how your parents died, and I'll admit it does sound suspicious. Maybe if the police did their jobs we'd have more answers..." I licked my lips; none of them looked satisfied, "But using a spirit board? I mean, they're bad luck. And they hold evil or something? And I understand you want to know what happened so you can get some kind of closure... And we will get that for you! Whether it was a bear or a murderer or whatever, we'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."
I was rambling and it was obvious. What could I have said that would've made it matter for anyone? Malin rescued me with answers, "Actually..." her eyes focused, as if she were coming out of a foggy haze, "Have you ever heard of divine retribution?"
"No?" Fives and I echoed together, and her hand squeezed me tighter.
Fern groaned, "Please don't tell me you're saying my Aunt and Uncle were killed because God had a bone to pick with them."
"No. Of course not. Your Aunt and Uncle were killed because A god had a bone to pick with your original ancestor and cursed his entire bloodline hundreds of years ago."
I laughed, "You're joking..."
Malin sighed, "I'm afraid not. Gods can hold quite the grudge."
"So, you're saying A GOD killed my parents." Fives' hesitated.
Malin was getting tired of the questions, tired of us not understanding, tired of us not taking witchy voodoo seriously, "No, I'm saying A GOD is why your parents met their untimely end, just like your aunt, and your family before them and you two will after them. It'll go on and on and on."
Fern threw her cupcake paper at the spirit board, "SEE! It's bullshit, Sadbh! She's just taking advantage of the knowledge that our family has all died young to come to some bullshit conclusion. Cursed by the gods, are you genuinely serious? Which god then, huh?"
I cleared my throat, "And which ancestor? Can't you talk to him? Ask him what he did? Maybe we can fix it? Reverse his mistake or something?" My heart was pounding in my chest. They couldn't all die young. Not because of one guy nobody remembered. Not when it's been so long.
Sadbh growled, her fingers cutting into me, "None of that matters! I still don't know who or what killed my parents! That's why we're here right now!"
I had to yank myself free. I couldn't bear her knife-like claws anymore, "No offense, Fives, I think preserving your life and getting rid of a curse that could kill you matters at least a little."
"Malin. Please. I need to know. I can't move on if I don't know."
Malin cleared her throat, "You ever notice how things change with the breeze? How new paths form, how you make choices you wouldn't have made otherwise, how a new you is born and the old you is remade?"
The omen. My eyes flash. I don't even realize I'm speaking, "What the fu--"
Fives interrupts, "What does this have to do with anything?"
Fern rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and why do you have to say it so pretentiously? You're literally talking about the wind."
It was all becoming less real by the second. Even the cold slap on my neck had disappeared. Malin's effect on me was nothing more than annoyance.
And it was almost like she'd felt my shock. Her eyes locked with mine, and they held an air of righteousness, "The Goddess of Destiny has everything to do with everything, and I wouldn't disregard the wind so easily. How do you think Mistraldaire was cursed in the first place? Arrogance and hubris--thinking you're better than the gods."
Fern cackled, "Mistraldaire? MISTRALDAIRE? That's not even a real name."
"Your name is literally Fernezra," I whispered.
She rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. Whose side are you even on?"
"Well--"
"But thinking the decision to curse an entire bloodline is a little dramatic means we're disrespecting the gods?" Fives murmured, "My parents are dead because this Goddess of Destiny was offended by something a man who lived hundreds of years ago said. Maybe I don't want to respect a goddess who thinks murder is a fair punishment for an entire family."
Malin nodded, "Fair enough, but murder wasn't the punishment."
Fives shook her head, "I don't understand. If it wasn't, then why do we keep dying?"
"It's not so much death so much as the way it's orchestrated. And the first curse wasn't death, it was BECAUSE of death."
"Can you stop speaking in riddles for five seconds and just answer her questions?" Fern groaned.
Malin spoke reminiscently, "I recognize the name. Mistraldaire... A Veteran of the War of the Schools."
"Schools... Like a high school...?" I raised an eyebrow.
She shook her head as if it were obvious, "The Schools of Witchcraft. Every clan belongs to one of the three: Mind, Body, or Soul. Mistraldaire's were masters of the body."
"How do you even know this?"
Fives shushed her cousin, and Malin continued, "He's all over our history books of that period. He wasn't so much a veteran as much as he was a disgrace in the eyes of witches and gods everywhere."
Sadbh gasped, "Why? What did he do?"
Fern shushed her back.
Malin looked between them both and waited for silence. Once they gave in, she cleared her throat, "It's a long story but to summarize, in the early days of the war, thousands were lost every day. Undertakers couldn't keep up with the bodies, the land couldn't keep up with the graves, and ghosts from the dead buried carelessly would return and haunt both sides. Then the School of the Body joined and healers from all over Iyael were summoned to await their divine duty--to help the wounded and the fallen warriors."
Her silver eyes began to glow violet as she spoke passionately, "Mistraldaire was one of those called upon. He was one of the best healers. He could heal those on the brink of death, could bring back those just barely over the cusp. When other healers would attempt it, those brought back were different. They weren't the same that were lost. But Mistraldaire was skilled at his craft, a master. He could bring back the soul as well as the body."
"That's good then, right? So why was he punished? He was a hero." I wondered aloud.
Her eyes met mine again, but their power was no more over me, "It wasn't enough for him to be praised, to see the product of his divinity. He wanted to prove his valor. He wanted to show the schools he wasn't just the most powerful healer, he could be a warrior too. He could take life just as he could give it back. So one day, he decided to do just that. He abandoned his post. Took the sword of a warrior he didn't heal and joined the other warriors on the battleground..."
Fern leaned forward on her elbows and blushed, "Okay... Not that I believe any of this... But... What happened then...?"
Malin leaned back, "It was the bloodiest day the war had seen. More died not by the stolen sword but by the rejection of his duty. By taking his fate into his own hands, by deciding he knew his destiny best, by rejecting the blessing and the glory the goddess had given him, the witches that died on the battlefield weren't healed. Those that were killed weren't brought back. More ghosts haunted than warriors fought. He'd decided death was more important than life. For this decision, he was exiled by his fellow witch, and cursed by the gods who'd blessed him."
"So why not just punish him," Fives yelled exasperated, "Why punish us too? We had nothing to do with that!"
Malin looked as though she couldn't understand the question, "Thousands were lost because of him. Mothers lost sons, sons lost fathers, entire clans gone forever. Maybe they didn't think one man's blood would suffice. Maybe they wanted the entire Vespers' bloodline to fall."
Fern narrowed her eyes, "So you can ask the ghosts what our original ancestor was named, but you can't ask them why they deemed all this necessary."
Malin sighed, "Only your family is here at the moment. I can't ask them what every clan from every school thought when they cursed yours."
"I just think it's fuc--
Sadbh jumped, "Did you just say our family is here?"
Malin nodded.
"My parents???" Her voice reached that high pitch again, but I didn't flinch. I understood her need, her desperation.
Malin tilted her head, "Your father."
Fives' eyes were frantic, her hand reaching for mine again. I interlocked our fingers, though it didn't help much. "My dad is here right now? Can he hear me? Where's my mom? Why aren't they together?"
"He can hear you. and he says your mother was mortal. She wasn't cursed the way he was. She doesn't suffer the same fate as he." She spoke softly as if she was trying to soothe her.
Sadbh shook her head, "Suffer? He's suffering? Where is he? What happened? Why can't I hear him? Tell him I want to speak to him!"
I squeezed her hand gently, "Hey, hey, relax. Take a deep breath."
Malin spoke cooly, "I've already told you. Your clan are masters of the body. Your powers stem from there. Us Depraysiers are masters of the soul, and so I can commune with the dead."
Fives' voice was cracking. She was gone. I was losing her all over again. Just like last year. Just like when this was still new. She was beside herself with pain and sorrow and yearning for answers, "Then I should be able to feel him. He knows I can feel. I can feel things, emotions from other people. Why can't I feel his?"
I froze. She didn't notice. I didn't expect her to.
Malin sighed, "Because he isn't a body. He is a soul, an essence trapped here."
"Hey, can you shut the hell up for a second?" For a second, I thought Fern was talking to me. Me and my racing thoughts and my racing heart, but she was scowling Malin down, "Can't you see she's having a panic attack? You're not helping."
"And what do you mean you can feel people's emotions?" I muttered.
Fern eyed me then, "You too. Just shut up. Sadbh, relax, okay? Get your feelings under control and she'll answer more questions, okay? You're going to make yourself sick."
Five's voice was small, barely above a whisper, her eyes distant, "She said he's suffering, Nez. He's suffering and my mom isn't there with him. He's all alone."
Malin shook her head. She clasped her fingers together with a hum, "He isn't alone. Iris is there. He says she's been helping him since he arrived. She's been trying to help him contact Yuna... Yuna is your mother, yes?"
"Is he in pain? Just tell me that." Her voice cracked.
Malin cleared her throat, as if she was attempting to clear Fives' as well, "He says he's alright. He feels no pain. He suffers only because of his punishment."
Her voice only shook more. "Punishment? What punishment."
Malin goes quiet and pale. It's the first time she's looked remorseful. Probably the first time in her entire life. "He doesn't wish for me to say."
Sadbh shakes from beside me. She's restless now. I grab her hand, trying to still her and her racing heart. She doesn't notice any of us are there. She barely notices Malin anymore. Her eyes dance around the room, searching for her father's spirit. "Tell me! Please. Please I need to know."
Malin shakes her head, "He says it'll bring you no comfort."
She launches to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair if I hadn't grabbed it with my knight-like reflexes, "Well then remind him that he's dead. That my mom is dead. Remind him that I feel no comfort anyway because they were both taken from me and nobody will tell me the truth about what really happened."
Fern begs on her behalf, "Uncle Dillon... She's right. If you're really there and this isn't just some scam. I've seen it. I've seen her suffering. Answers could only help. There's no way she could be more lost than she already is."
I narrowed my eyes at her. Not because it wasn't true. Of course it was true. Sadbh wasn't the same and she would never be. How do you go back to the way you used to be before something like this happened? You couldn't; she couldn't. There was an innocence lost, a naivety, an ignorant bliss. No, I wasn't staring angrily at Fern because she was wrong. I was staring at her with an edge because she was right.
Malin pauses. Hesitates. "He hears her screams the night she died. Over and over again. Screaming for him to help, begging for the pain to leave. He tries to run to her, to reach her, and to help her, but she's too far away. As soon as he reaches the Maple Tree in your backyard, she goes quiet. He falls to his knees because he knows it's not because the pain is gone but because she is. He knows Yuna was killed because of him, because of HIS curse."
Sadbh falls back down in her chair, "Oh..."
Fern sighs theatrically, "So I was wrong, then... Maybe you didn't need to know that. Nice going, Uncle Dillon. You should've said your punishment was that morbid."
Malin picks at her fingernails, somehow uninterested, somehow uncaring, "He didn't say it. Mistraldaire did. He says your parents died a death of valor."
I try to bite my tongue, but I can't anymore. I just can't. "Like he'd know anything about valor, he sounds like a coward."
The walls rattle and collectible dishes fly off shelves. The planchette zooms from one side of the board to the other, and Malin just smiles at it.
"You can throw dishes at me all you want, it's true! You're the reason they died ~a death of valor~ in the first place. You're the reason her father is being punished like that. You're the reason her mother was in pain when she died. You're the reason the gods hate the Vespers." My voice doesn't crack, nor waver.
Fives grabs my arm, but I shake her off, "Abbotticus--"
I frown down at her, "No, it's true! If you die tomorrow or next month, when you DIE, it'll be all because of him. Because he couldn't handle healing people even though that was his entire power. he wanted to kill people instead. The gods were right to punish him, but to punish you? To punish your parents? To let your father suffer in death like that and your mother who had nothing to do with it? That's fucked up, and more than that, it's not fair. Because he went against the Goddess of Destiny now it's your destiny to pay for a crime you didn't commit?"
Malin smirks scoldingly, I didn't even know that was possible, "Easy, mortal. Don't tempt her. On Halloween of all nights."
"He has a point. but the fact is... None of this is real... It can't be... And even if it is, we're getting out of here. You and me... we won't have their fate, I promise..."
Fern doesn't even sound sure, doesn't even sound like she believes herself or her words. Maybe because she's said it so many times before. Maybe it was a lie she was trying to convince herself was true, only it's not working anymore, maybe it never worked.
"Malin, please. Ask them what happened that night. Ask them who did it. I don't care if I die, if the curse reaches me too. I need to get justice for them, I need to know what happened."
Fern reaches for her across the table but they're too far, "Are you sure?"
I grab her hand for her, "Yeah, Fives. This doesn't seem like it's helping."
Sadbh nods, resolutely. It's what she invited Malin here for after all. "I need to know. It won't help but nothing will. I won't rest until I know."
Malin clears her throat, stares off into the distance, and communicates with those lost, "Well..... He says........ There was a woman... A woman in the road and your mother didn't see her through all the snow..."
A cold wintry air overcomes the room. Frost blossoms on the dishware, snowflakes dance slowly from the ceiling, the walls blur around us, the lights dim until there's only a glow resembling a pale moonlight. My lungs burn at having to adjust to the dramatic dip in temperature. Just as my fingers start trembling with frostbite, Sadbh grabs my fingers and interlocks them. If I wasn't so sure this was all a dream that surely couldn't be real, I would've realized that she must've felt my chill. That's why she wrapped my fingers in her warmth. It had to be.
I'm too busy staring in awe at the shifting reality to notice Malin's mouth falling open, slowly, slowly. Fern screams. I flinch and look at her, only to see her horrified at something happening beside me. That's when I see it; her. Malin frozen in pain, mouth wide open stretching wider and wider, jaw creaking and cracking, eyes bulging. A squeak of pain exits her throat, but she struggles to let it out. Like there's a pressure on her lungs we can't see.
And then, all at once, in the time it takes me to blink, there is no more Malin. Not the Malin as I'd come to know her. '
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