When In Doubt, Go With Blue

Secrets Unnumbered

"Bloom-" Farah started again, an expert at avoid unpleasant conversations. 

But Bloom was stubborn. "I'm from Aster Dell." Why was that name so familiar?

Farah froze and you could see and - worse -  feel the surge of emotions going through her. Shock, terror, regret, helplessness, ...and shame. You were intimately familiar with that emotion and hated it on her. 

Bloom blundered on unaware and uncaring to the emotional turmoil she was putting the woman through. "Yeah, that's where I was born. That's where my birth parents lived. That is, until you, Mr. Silva, and professor Harvey destroyed it."

Farah stepped past Bloom slowly. Not like she would leave and neglect the ginger's answers, but like she was looking into the past. When she returned to the present, she saw a girlfriend with an expression no less than supportive. She pulled herself back together just enough. This was Farah and Bloom, not the Headmistress and some nosy student. 

"Is that true? How could you do that?" Receiving no answers as soon as she wanted, Bloom assumed... and judged. "How could you think that killing Burned Ones was more important than people's lives?"

Farah spun back to Bloom. "You think we did it on purpose?" she gaped out, stunned at the prospect. This was why this why this secret was necessary. No one would understand. She could only hope one could. She gave her girlfriend one more side-eye before telling the whole story. Well, as close as she could get, never knowing everything with Rosalind. But she tried her best. She explained they were in a full-on war with the beasts, though she doubted they would understand the depth of meaning of that. She explained how a soldier does, not question their commanding officer and how she'd come to regret that tradition. She talked her throat dry, her face blue, on how Rosalind promised she'd taken pains to evacuate their target. Then, yes, they blew it. Tears never left the strong Head's unbreakable control, but she offered the best apology she could, admitting no apology would be great enough. But still it wasn't enough. Bloom had more questions. 

"That much I do not know; Rosalind kept many things from me."

Bloom stepped closer, not threatening because she couldn't so anything to Farah, but desperate. "Which is why I want to see her."

"Manipulative bitch, committed genocide-" you ticked off, counting with your fingers, "-tricked your Headmistress." You pointed at her with three fingers. Then yelped in a cheerful voice, "Yeah! Let's wake her up!"

Saul opened the door to Farah's office, not waiting for a response. "Five, at least. We need. We need to go now."

Farah looked at the emotional teen. "I will help you find answers once the threat is neutralized. You have my word." She brushed past the ginger, tossing back, "You better start that nap before I get back."

Bloom was confused, but you answered the empty room: "Yeah.... Prove I didn't." She jumped at the reminder of your existence and you both headed for the exit. You weren't interested in the meddlesome redhead anymore. When you first saw her, something primal inside you called you to her. Now, the fellow First Worlder just irritated you. Aisha hovered in her office, having overheard everything, you were sure. "So lock up," you faux-requested in your sickly... cordial tone. You left the office at a casual pace and wandered the halls. Your mind was fairly - or perhaps unfairly - burdened constantly. You could tell Farah about the amount of pure support for Rosalind Solaria had shoved in your brain. You could tell her that her go-to bakery dusted each pastry with ground poppies. But you figured anything you knew about the country Farah called home, she already knew. So you used your ability to follow the group. While they'd found tracks, they couldn't be traced to the Burned Ones. Not that anyone had realized they were in a big circle. So, they followed the trail in its entirety, and you got bored quick. Maybe a nap wouldn't be remiss. It would help you tomorrow if you couldn't sleep tonight at least. So, you returned to your suite and found sleep. 

*

It was a terrible day. The air was thick with sinister victory. This felt rotten, like the day hope dies. But it was joyous to them. They were dressed in either ritualistic garb or OtherWorld Sunday best. How did you know you were in the OtherWorld. The adults appeared carefree and the children, of course, ran about and played. 

A somber energy energy settled over the small village and the children entreated indoors. It must have been ritual clothes because some sort of ceremony was taking place. The inhabitants' eyes glowed in unison. It wasn't fairy colors, their eyes; they were ruby red. The color of a Blood Witch's magic, and the eye color of their current victims. Now, how did you know that? The energy flowed and the apex was neared when heavy storm-clouds formed quick. Rather than downpour, a different energy built until a massive bolt of lightning cracked open the sky and shot sputteringly right at you. 

You were writhing around on your bed as if you could out-fun a bolt of freaking lightning. You shot to sit up once you understood your eyes were only now open. You might have been screaming, based on your sore throat but there was no way to know. Your hand felt something soft and you smelled like roses. You crumbled your fingers and held the unknown object up to your face, and saw the ruby petal in your room's soft light. 

"Can't even be romantic without you having a nightmare," Farah quipped from the corner of your bedroom. She looked fantastic, wearing very little, and with a whole rose between her fingers. Despite the reproachful statement, she displayed pure amusement. Her lips twisted into a smug smirk, as if she knew the reaction she was causing even without her magic. Her soulful brown orbs were simply alight with mischief. 

Your blood ran like lava. Your insides vibrated and your skin trembled under the force of your reactions. You were confused at your own reaction, but your love laughed. 

It wasn't a full laugh, more like a brush of adoration escaping in gas form. You hoped that was her only gaseous form of affection. She rose form your study chair, slow and content. Her lingerie was entirely green, so sexy against her tan skin. Her hair was free of any restraints so it flowed all the way down. She twirled rose, stepping closer to your bed. 

The clarity in the room came from floating, candleless flames. You stared around, stunned. No view was better than Farah right now, but your room showered in rose petals and the perfect lighting got the evening pretty close to perfect. 

Farah stood at your bedside until she sat before you. 

"Are you injured?" What more could you ask, the love of your life hunting down half a dozen could-blooded monsters? 

The woman smiled, but didn't speak. She would answer with better than words. Her arm rose and she drew the rose's petaled side across your cheek. "So innocent," she whispered fondly. She watched the rose's color against your skin and stared everywhere it went, as if she weren't in control. The softness passed the bridge of your nose, trailing along your lips. "So sweet." She leaned in, taking your lips in hers. The rose trailed down your neck.