Dark Heart, Bright Eyes |ONC 2024|

*2*

Zara did her best to pretend she did not exist as freshman orientation commenced. They got through the welcoming lunch and the speech by the provost of the university with minimal sideways stares and whispers. Nothing unexpected, and she began to drop her guard.

It was during the campus tour that things grew...uncomfortable.

Ceira looped her arm through Zara's, chattering gaily about all her own, grand memories of her time at Belmare. At first, Ceira Morrigan had been the subject of all those stares and whispers. Zara had managed to make herself small and uninteresting--an easily managed feat when sitting beside her famous mother--so none of the other witches had really paid any attention to her.

Until her mother made it obvious that the small, dark-haired girl with the odd eyes was the one she was at the university for. 

It started with sideways comments about her appearance. How it was a shame she hadn't inherited the trademark Morrigan hair color. That she must take after her father in looks. They commented on her eyes. About how she had gotten a touch more lucky with that, with at least one iris matching the startling bright silver that marked all the women of the Family Morrigan.

The dark blue of her other eye drew attention, but as her mother was currently present, people were still minding their tongues. 

Multiple remarks were made by the older witches, mothers all with their carbon-copy children unable to resist pointing out that Zara really did look nothing like her mother. Ceira took it all in stride, just like she had been doing for years. 

A few dared to ask delicately phrased questions, voicing their concern about Zara's ability to...keep up with the course material. 

Zara's hand strayed to the bag at her waist before her mother's fingers clamped down on her wrist. The move was innocuous enough, easily masked by Ceira pulling her daughter's hand into the crook of her arm. 

But Zara got the message.

She was to behave. Even if that meant putting up with all the sly, hateful comments. 

Zara supposed she couldn't very well get expelled before the semester even truly started. How unfortunate. 

The tour continued, the stone paths winding between large, gothic buildings with sweeping architecture and sprawling lawns dotted with willows and elder trees. Zara let her mind wander as the guide blathered on about which classes took place in which building, and which famous monsters had stayed in which dormitory. 

Would her mother even allow her to return home, if she got herself expelled for murder? Zara pondered this, giving her mother a sideways glance. Ceira had a small smile on her face as she looked at each building they passed intently, obviously reliving a number of good memories as they walked. 

Probably not, Zara concluded. It would just prove to everyone that Ceira Morrigan's daughter couldn't hack it.

Never show them how frightened you are, Ceira would always tell her. A mantra that had ingrained itself into Zara's bones. 

She hadn't understood how fighting back had shown fear, not for a very long time. It wasn't until the last few years of high school that she finally caught on. 

It wasn't her ability to fight that was lacking. It was the fact that she had to fight at all. Because, when you were powerful enough, no one would dare attack you in the first place. The fact that she was so adept at defending herself only showed how weak she was to begin with.

At least, by a witch's estimation. 

"How are you supposed to pass the classes when you can't even do the most simple spells?"

Zara closed her eyes as the familiar voice whispered in her ear. "Don't you remember what happened last time you stood so close to me, Damon?"

Damon Circe huffed a laugh, draping his arm over her shoulders as they walked. "Don't be like that, Zar. You knew I would be here. All of us from the Families were bound to get in. Are you really still angry at me?"

Zara inhaled slowly through her nose, allowing her mother and the rest of the crowd orbiting around her to pull ahead. Pursing her lips, she glanced sideways at the offending arm, wondering if maiming was considered a "problematic behavior".

"Would you like to keep that hand?" she asked, her voice just as sweet as his. 

Damon heaved a sigh, but removed his arm. "It's not my fault, Zara. My mother has the final say in my family, same as yours. I would have married you in a heartbeat, but she..."

"Didn't want a useless daughter-in-law producing another useless heir to her family."

"I still don't understand why you're so angry," Damon said softly. "It's not like you ever loved me."

Zara finally dared to look at the Family Circe heir. Perfect, olive skin. Dark, wavy hair. Eyes of pure gold and a heart to match. Once upon a time, he'd been her greatest ally. One she had hoped would manage to help her escape the slow suffocation she suffered as a magic-less heir to one of the great Families. 

"It's not..." Zara sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "I'm mad at myself, Damon. Because I feel stupid for thinking it was just up to us. That we would both get what we wanted out of it and that the Family politics would...let us do what we wanted."

Damon's gold eyes flickered as he looked down. "I am--"

"Forget it," Zara said, already walking away. "It's good to see you, Circe."

She didn't look back at her best friend as she caught up with her mother. 

Word Count: 930

Total: 1,569