Beneath Shadows and Secrets

♔ 𝕱𝔬𝔲𝔯 ♔

My eyes are not open before I feel her tender arms wrap around me, chin rested on my shoulder. I am quick to return the gesture, gripping my back of her dress, creasing the fabric in the harshness of my hold, and my face crumples. This is why I had not wanted to let the anger go. Anguish has taken its place, tangling with the confusion, and that is an emotion I have never known how to manage.

I sense more than see Zaire depart, and then Sloan speaks again. "I should have expected nothing less. I have done nothing but tend at your bedside this whole time, and you decide to wake when I have had to leave for mere moments to relieve myself." My laugh is troubled, ingenuine, and she knows. She pulls away, far enough only to strike away the tears gliding down my face. "I will draw you a bath. Let's get you clean and changed."

♔

Sloan remains at my side, hand folded into mine, right until I am submerged in the water. It is pungent with oils, ones she always allowed me to use, but today seems far too aromatic. I wonder if I smelled so terrible that she has had to use far more than a few drops. The vanilla is sickly sweet, and the cedarwood is so harsh it is though I'm trapped within a forest from which there is no chance of escape.

I know she could use magic to trickle the water over my exposed skin, but she opts to use her hand instead, dragging one gently across the water's surface and letting what she has cupped in her palm spill over my shoulders and chest. She doesn't touch me, not my skin or my face or my hair. I know she has noticed that I dare not even touch myself.

I remain still, letting my eyes drag across every inch of me, hoping that they will latch on to one single imperfection, and they only burn with that horrid emotion when I have no such luck. It is an entirely new body that sits beneath the water – not only have my wounds gone and my scars too, but everything. Stretch marks that once sat along my hips and thighs as I came into womanhood, growing into curves that my skin has no choice but to stretch around. A small birthmark that sat on my hip, a patch of darkened skin, vanished. I never really paid it much attention, and I hate myself for that, because now it is gone, I cannot remember exactly where it covered.

The only thing that remains, brandishing me like a mark of ownership, the flower in the middle of my chest.

"I used to want them gone." Is the first thing I croak out. It has been hours since I have properly spoken, and the sound of my voice startles Sloan. "I was conceited enough to think that I would not be pretty with them. Now I do not even recognise myself without them."

"Without what, Nira?" Sloan asks me, her voice gentle with caution.

"My scars." My voice wobbles, and I am betrayed again by tears. Never have I cried so much in my life. My fingers graze my forearm above the water so that she can see. "I hated when Abner gave me this, but every time I saw it, I just remembered that all of this was for my brother, my family." I grip my shoulder, tight enough that it hurts, over where the bite is no more.

My face scrunches, and I am not sure my words are even intelligible through my weeping. "This reminded me that I was strong, that I would survive." I sob, completely broken now. "I know my back is bare, where there should be a scar that reminded me of Darin. It was the only thing I had to remind me that he was real. The memories are worthless. They feel like dreams." I catch my face in my hands, hiccupping as my cries tear through me, wracking my body so I can do nothing but curl over. Sloan finally holds me, resting a hand on the back of my hair in condolence. She is crying with me, quietly and privately. The only tell, the stutter in her breathing.

"I am so sorry, Nira." She manages to whisper.

I turn to her, watery eyed and brows furrowed as I fight the fresh wave of tears. "Tell me what has happened to me, please."