The Dragon Variation

Chapter Forty

{I advise you listen to 'Romantic Flight' by John Powell when you reach the illustration, it's an amazing song.}

In The Light

Ophelia O'callaghan

I'm panicking more, mum. It's back. You used to help me, when they started, I was only young, I thought I was dying, you got the healers and the MediWitches—you established my grounding techniques. I haven't had one since before Christmas until a few weeks ago. I broke down, mum. Completely. In his arms.

And then I remembered you—you would hum. You would hum until I caught my breath and stopped crying and fell asleep. I fractured like glass in his arms under the pouring cold shower.

He was trying to stop his arm from scorching, I showed up and probably made it worse. I didn't even stop to think why he'd be in the shower still with his shirt and trousers on.

But he still caught me.

He held me and hummed until I stopped crying. How did he know to do that? I feel like I've known him my whole life by the way he cares for me. He tries to make it easy for us, both in a sickening situation of being tied to The Dark Lord.

He's hurting too, and he knows I am—but he keeps doing things to make it easier for me. Like always making sure my sleeves aren't too tight around my arm, where I tend to scratch it out of nerves. He's trying to make it easier for me.

—But doing this without you by my side is the hardest thing I think I'll ever do; I've ever had to do. But I'm doing it mum.

I never thought I'd wish for such a thing, but I wish that you at least had a grave to visit and talk to instead of lying awake at night, or staring out the windows in class, or crying in the shower, wondering where you are, if you're still alive. So, I write you wasteful letters that sit in my bedside draw. I wish I could at least take you flowers and sit beside you.

But I can't even do that.

I'm doing just how you taught me. You always apologised for having to lead me into such a foul world; I see it now. You didn't have a choice either. I'm not mad. You and Father never wanted me in this, but you didn't have a choice. You always wanted to find a way to use what I have for a good cause, before it was snatched away and sold to someone else's use; The Dark Lord.

I have felt damned since that day. It's all a blur now. It happened so quickly. Handed over to be a pawn, trained and tutored to kill. Given my first task before I even got the Mark. The way I saw it all was you were prepping me to serve The Dark Lord—but you wasn't, was you?

You was training me to survive. From day one you knew if you didn't train me then I'd be snatched away and trained up by someone else; someone more ruthless about my ability.