HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 22

"Run, Lil! Ru—"

Her cry cut off with a gurgle. Collapsing onto the dirt, Olympia grasped futilely at her throat as blood spewed from the gash and stained the immediate vicinity a sickening red.

In reality, Lilith would not have fled. She would have stuck to her friends like glue and let her pursuers end her there and then. But as Nightmare Lilith caught sight of the advancing riot, she ran—she darted into the maze of tunnels and zipped through length after length of dimly-lit passages, making arbitrary choices at forks and junctions. Nightmare Lilith was just as speedy, but one wrong turn brought her into an alley with someone else in it. She might have left it as soon as she'd found it, but something seized her attention, and she wandered deeper inside, secured in the knowledge that it wasn't someone else.

At the end of the enclosed lane was a mirror. As she prowled forwards, she noticed for the first time what she was wearing: the rainbow dress. But there was something amiss about her reflection. Although it approached just as she did, her other actions were not mimicked. Reflection Lilith instead carried a transparent box that looked to contain mounds of Glostyx.

Lilith was familiar with these luminous novelties. As a kid, she owned packs and packs of them, and in every shade available—just like those in the box. Thinner than pencils, they bent easily, making a snapping sound and triggering a chemical reaction that resulted in a brightly neon tube. The science involved fascinated Lilith, but so did the beauty. Eight-inch long, one could be twisted into a bracelet, two a necklace, and several more formed a waist belt. With her stash, she was at the liberty to create mono-, di-, and even multichromatic designs.

Versatile as they were, though, she had never known them to move—as the ones in the box were patently doing. Another few steps clarified what was causing the bizarre phenomenon and she drew back hastily, aghast.

Without warning, her reflection hurled the contents of the box towards her, and through the mirror shot out a hundred or so—not glowing sticks—glowing snakes. At once, she wheeled around, intent on the exit, but there wasn't time for that, not least for her to discern that someone else was framed in it.

These reptiles could not have been much bigger than the childish trinkets, but she felt herself being hauled down as if what curled around her ankles were a python. Crashing to the concrete, she saw her arms and struggled forwards on them, her endeavour made more challenging because her legs refused to cooperate. Glancing back, she found them engulfed in a fluorescent mess. She stared at the psychedelic entanglement, more mesmerized than appalled, for there had been no pain—no, there was no sensation at all.

If she had sustained bites, there was no telling how many and how severe without punctured flesh for proof. Was numbness a symptom of venom poisoning? It was plausible, she surmised, but arriving at this conjecture added no practical benefit to her predicament. On the contrary, it had cost her time—precious time during which the swarm of artificially-pigmented vipers had progressed steadily up her body.

As they gained her back, she was overcome by a strange, inexplicable force. Just like in that first assault, it was of disproportionate strength. With a power as if gravity was on steroids, it not only pinned her to the ground but seemed determined to press her into it, to bury her on her spot. Frantic, she clawed at the floor, fighting the illogical but very real feeling that she was sinking through solid stone. Her swimming training kicked in, and as she tilted her head upwards instinctively, her eyes landed on the person in the egress.

Somehow, he was immune to the gloom, appearing just as he had in his office, with his immaculate powder blue shirt and chocolate brown windowpane suit...

"Please, help me..."

But no matter that she'd begged, wept, or that she'd reached for him, he remained impassive. Ice cubes chinked as he calmly sipped his drink, the same clear, fizzy thing he'd had earlier. He peered at her over the rim of his glass, indifferent to her plight, which was to have the legion of ophidians conquer her upper limbs, then her head, then her face.

Dazzling scales encroached her vision, threatening to blind her to everything else, but she kept her gaze on him, hoping against hope he would have a change of heart. To her disappointment, the subterranean backdrop faded away, and she was submerged in a sea of the writhing creatures, drowning, suffocating—that was when Lilith woke up, the image of Snow's unyielding face still etched in her brain.

It was unnecessary to consult a dream interpretation book, not that any was likely to describe the elements featured in this one. Lilith understood it perfectly. Perhaps not how her favourite toys as a girl had transformed into a mass of hair-raising muttations—Professor Gaul had called them snakelets—but the rest of it was manifest. The witch hunt and animosity heralded obvious repercussions, whereas Snow's behaviour was just a cruel reminder that that no one could or would come to her aid; that she was in this jam alone, and if she couldn't pull herself out of it, that would be the end of everything.

"How much do you think they'll hate me?"

Because it was no longer a question of if.

"No one hates you," replied Olympia.

"You don't even know who I'm talking about!" Lilith protested.

"Come on, Lil, it doesn't matter. You're impossible to hate. It's just not natural."

"But Snow said..." And she recounted his implication that she would be as good as condemned should she decline this grand opportunity.

Her fingers combed through her hair, holding it out of her grim face, Olympia sighed heavily.

"Lil, if you're planning to listen to someone on this, it's not going to be to Coriolanus Snow. Not that you should be listening to me or anything, but here's my two cents:

"Whether or not you accept this damned apprenticeship, you should be at the center of it all. Maybe you take it for Thena. Maybe you give it up in a bid make it up to her. Maybe you heed my advice and leave this shitshow behind. Maybe you forfeit it because you've got too many things on your plate as it is. Maybe you do it anyway, because it's what your mother would have done, because the whole do-your-best-and-have-no-regrets routine's telling you to.

"Whatever's the case, Snow has no place in this. He doesn't need you? Well, I have news for you, honey: You don't need him either. If you're nothing to him, he can't be anything to you. He may become your boss, but he's not the boss of you. This is your life, Lil. Don't let anyone tell you how to live it. Think about what you want. The solution will come."

It was just like Olympia to speak so boldly, so without-a-care. People's opinions only mattered so much to her; even her best friends' constituted but a small part of the equation that governed her decisions. Lilith envied her courage and experience. In all her nineteen—going twenty—years, she had always conformed to expectations, and quite willingly, too. Her aspirations of becoming a designer was probably the most out-of-the-norm concept she'd ever indulged in. Certainly, it was the first thing she truly desired for herself; of that much she was positive.

Thus far, she had not met with much resistance. Granted, it had not come into genuine fruition, but when one day it did, and should society not be as forgiving as her family and friends, would she capitulate? Would she relinquish her ambition to stay in favour? The same way she was considering rejecting the apprenticeship to earn back Athena's? The same way she was contemplating undertaking it in accordance to her teacher's and classmates' standards?

Of course, the two circumstances were not equal: Firstly, engaging in fashion was Lilith's ideal—being the Head Gamemaker's apprentice was not. Secondly, nobody's approval could compare to the esteem of one's decade-old best friend. Still, Lilith suspected that their solutions, whenever they materialized and however they emerged, would be similarly unstraightfoward. She wished she didn't have to find out.

"Can you get back to sleep? Or should we call for some tea?" suggested Olympia.

"No, I think I'll be okay," reassured Lilith, not wanting to rouse the Avoxes over such a trifle.

"Then lie down and get some rest." Olympia patted Lilith's pillow. "You'll need it if you want to think clearly."

And so Lilith obeyed. Because, by the clock on her nightstand, her solution had less than fifteen hours to present itself to her.

AN: Bear with me while I figure out some stuff to get this posting schedule ready. Meanwhile, just wondering if there are any Wattpad Premium users here? If yes, what is your main motivation for paying for a premium account over a regular one? Am looking to weigh the pros and cons for myself. Thanks in advance and, as always, remember to vote and comment if you loved this chapter and what's going on in Lilith's head...