Song: "Passing" by Adrian Von Ziegler

Reader discretion advised: the last scene of this chapter depicts one sentence at the end that describes self-harm. If this is triggering to you, there will be a summary at the end of the chapter if you want to skip the scene.

Do you remember, Mother, what I said about the pot that would become more cracks than glass? That is what I fear. Strange feelings rest within my heart, as if I stand at the edge of an emotional precipice. I'm tired of repression, so what is next to prevent those cracks?

❂❂❂

The next day, Light Spinner and Micah traveled by mirror and exited to the common room in a drafty old townhome. Micah shivered. "It's a little cold in here."

Fire sprang from Light Spinner's fingers, lighting up the cold logs in the hearth. As it blazed, she did the same above, shooting a smaller spurt at a chandelier.

Micah frowned. The room smelled like roses, like her home in Mystacor. "Was this your house as a kid?"

Light Spinner ran her hand along the banister, which led up to three small bedrooms. "Yes," she murmured. "Nobody has lived here for twelve years."

"Not since your dad passed away."

"Died," she corrected bluntly as they ascended the stairs. "He died."

"Oh. Well...sure." He blushed. "Mind if I ask how?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Norwyn told me he'd been in perfect health. He wasn't like my mother - he never got sick. Ever."

That's strange. People don't just randomly die...do they? "What was he like?"

"He was brilliant - almost an Emeth in First Ones' studies before his death. He was passionate, and fun, but also cold and sad. That coldness turned to anger when Mother died, and..." she ran her thumb over her other wrist. Her eyes grew bright. "Excuse me. I must light the other fires. Stay here until I come for you." With this, she exited the room.

He didn't see her for the rest of the night, though he waited faithfully for her, eventually deciding she'd fallen asleep. When the clock struck midnight, he meandered drowsily into the childrens' bedroom and curled up in the small bed, which had been made for a kid shorter than he was. His worry for her was outweighed by his tiredness.

✧✧✧

Light Spinner walked up the stairs of the old house in Bel Delvala, the smell of hand-carpented wood and fragrance sticks from twelve years ago permeating her nose. So much had changed in the quiet little town where she grew up. The boy she'd been friends with grew into a man with a family. The baguettes used a different recipe. Even the cobblestones blanketed with snow seemed to have been replaced in the sixteen years since she was last here.

Her steps halted at the door to her parents' bedroom. Her father wouldn't be here to greet her. They both said they hated one another in the year leading up to when he sent her away, but only Ántonin was serious. 

But I still love him. I still love him in spite of everything we did to hurt each other.

She entered the room numbly, lighting the fire. If she was to cry, she couldn't let Micah see how ashamed she was. He couldn't possibly understand how deep and serious her grief ran. Though she loved him with all her heart, he was only a boy. And his father raised him well.

Norwyn told her her feelings would be the death of her, and he was right. Ántonin never apologized and never forgave her, because she wasn't worth it to him. Him, her real father, the one who did half the work in making her a living, breathing girl, the man whose blood flowed through her weary veins. The man whose strong, protective love she had ached for for sixteen years but never got from Norwyn.

Her silent tears escalated to concealed sobs as she locked the door and fell to her knees, scratching the peeling paint with her fingernails. At last, she could face the truth and accept who she really was. A monster. Someone who ruined everything she touched.

Mascara stung her eyes, and she tore off her veil. In the mirror across from her parents' bed, her reflection glared back: the thirty-year-old woman with black racing down her white cheeks. A pathetic, weak, bitter creature. Why couldn't she be strong and simply bear her pain like a normal person? Why did she act half her age over such things?

She stood to go to the bathroom and clean her face, but her gaze passed over a book neatly placed on his desk. The desk he used to sit at, with her on his strong knee, as he'd bounce her up and down just to hear her shriek with laughter. Light Spinner sniffed as her fingers brushed the rough surface of his journal. Dare she see what words were inside, just to hear his voice, even if it was scathing with rage?

She opened the cracked leather and blew the dust off the first page.

9 de Mars, 1479

Dear Lydia,

God knows I miss our girl.

Light Spinner's eyes were wider than the gap between the mainland and Mystacor. She could hear his accent, his deep rumbling voice, the way he thoughtfully picked out and articulated each syllable in Delvalian.

I don't know where Alura is now - besides in the kingdom of sorcerers, where only they and their families can go. I don't know who became her father after I sent her away, but I want to find her. She turned seventeen in Novembre, and in the spring of next year, she shall graduate. The years without her have been full of crushing loneliness and a sorrow I can't bear.

Light Spinner held her hand over her mouth, silent tears wetting her cheeks. Her father loved her? He wanted her?

What if I keep reading and realize his mind changed? What if I learn he remembered all we lost? Her hands trembled, and she kept reading.

I will go and find our precious girl. Our Alura. She does not deserve someone like me, just as I do not deserve someone like her. We have both contributed to the raw rift that tore our family apart after you passed on, Lydia. I am ashamed to say I was the exact image of what a father shouldn't be. But I will make it right. I can't wait to see how beautiful she's become. What interests she's picked up. How strong her arms around me will feel.

Yours forever, even in the grave,

Ántonin fils de Eloan, époux de Lydia, de Bel Delvala

Light Spinner smiled; he still signed his name as "Ántonin, son of Eloan, husband of Lydia, of Bel Delvala". But the warmth in her chest quickly turned to hunger. She stayed up all night reading his journal, which later on he addressed to his sweet Alura: about the many people he asked to take him to Mystacor, how many refused, and how eventually he stood at the edge of the gorge "like a damned crazy person waiting for the moon to come up so he could catch it."  

2 de Fevrier, 1480

Dear Alura,

I finally appealed to Queen Angella, begging her to help me find you. The queen said that she could contact Mystacor, since Bright Moon tends to have good relations with them, but that she could not guarantee the Head Sorcerer would allow me in. I wrote a letter to Master Norwyn about the situation, pleading with him to let me in if only so I could search for my precious daughter, Alura fille de Ántonin de Bel Delvala. The queen took my letter and sent it on a messenger phoenix to the secret kingdom. I will stay in Illuras until I have a reply.

A breathy laugh exited her lips, and she turned the page. The next entry was written nearly a month later.

28 de Fevrier, 1480

Dear Alura,

Norwyn wrote back to me, but that son of a pig told me that there was no one in Mystacor named Alura. No one who had ever been in Mystacor. Did you change your name? Did you run away before the carriage reached the gorge? No - that can't be it. You always told me you would be the grandest sorceress ever to walk the halls of Mystacor. That was your dream. You wouldn't have given up on it so soon.

Did you die? Did you fall ill and pass away like our Lydia? Did you disappear to another kingdom, and are you going by a different name? What is that name? Where did you go? Oh, my Alura...my darling Alura, this is all my fault, and I have brought ruin upon this family. I was the one who sent you away. You are right to hate me, to want me dead.

The letter ended there, and Light Spinner turned the page, but there were no more entries in the journal. He was too depressed to write, and that was what eventually killed him.

Her eyes welled with tears of rage, and the sound of Norwyn's gentle voice as he blamed her for her father abandoning her rang in her ears. Light ignited on her fingers, and she clenched her fists, allowing the fiery droplets to sizzle onto the tile of the bedroom floor. This is because of you. All of this happened because of you.

Loud, passionate sobbing ripped through Light Spinner's body in those wee hours of the morning, exiting her mouth in great gasps. The droplets turned to blazing fire as her fists slammed against the floor. Stars speckled her vision, and she hyperventilated, dropping to her knees. Her muscles bunched from anguish, her face soaked with tears.

I have to calm down. I'll pass out otherwise. Her stomach pumped up and down as she struggled to regulate her breathing. Light Spinner stumbled to walk, then collapsed again, chills seizing her and rendering her legs useless. Her first instinct was to hurt someone, but there was no one in the room to hurt save herself. So she dug her fingernails into her skin and tore them up her arms. 

❂❂❂

Did you know...

● If you skipped the scene, what happened was that Light Spinner learned that Ántonin eventually repented and attempted to make things right, but Norwyn lied to him that there was no one in Mystacor named Alura, thereby causing him to die of a broken heart because he couldn't have his daughter back. 

● This chapter, despite being very sad, is my favorite in the entire book.

Tell me what you think...

● How will this revelation change the dynamic between Light Spinner and Norwyn?

● How will this change her motivations for doing the Spell?