Dark Queen: The Cybelline Prophecies

Chapter 30

His Happiest Memory - Part 2

In his short existence, he had only remembered shadows of grey and blacks. Light was only a variation of the darkness that surrounded him. He would never see the world and the world would never see him.

But now as he opened his eyes, against the backdrop of colors in the night sky, he saw a color that he could not describe. He marveled.

It was as if the entire world could have lost all color again and if this was the only color that remained, he would have been content. Poets could struggle their entire life to describe what he saw now, and not once would they have been able to do it.

"What is in your eyes that make them so?" He asked softly, peering at the child in front of him. She grinned, "Green. Like my dad's."

It was the first color he'd ever seen, and it would be his favorite color for the rest of his life.

"Are you a demon?" He asked, how could such vibrance exist in a human?

She thought for a moment, "No, my parents are American. But my grandma is from Ireland."

 She looked into his eyes and frowned, "I thought you said your eyes are scary. They're just normal."

"What color are they?" He demanded suddenly anxious. Cy smiled, "They're black. Really pretty, shiny black."

Without another word, Killian scrambled off the bed and opened a drawer. In it was a mirror that belonged to his mother, he took and deep breath and raised it to his face.

A boy of six or seven stared back at him, two coal black eyes shone in the pale face. He touched his cheek gingerly with a frown, "They're not red." He mumbled.

The little girl bounced over, "Are you okay?"

Killian closed his eyes and opened them, closed them and opened them again. Gone was the pain of the headaches that plagued him all his life, gone was the dull ache that he felt when his magic threatened to overwhelm him. He turned to little girl, "What did you do?"

She tilted her head, "I just wanted you to get better." She smiled, "Are you better?"

He frowned, "I..I don't know. I think so." He still wasn't quite sure what was going on. How did the affliction he was born with just disappear? The magic he carried was supposed to be too much to him, in a few years he was suppose to burst into flames and die. Was that all gone?

A small warm hand gripped his, he looked down at the pudgy little hand that had wormed its way into his palm. She grinned at him, "What do you wanna do now?"

His mother had held him when he was a babe, but once he'd learn to take care of himself, he'd refuse her touch. He saw the physical toll it was to hold a magical barrier, saw her waste away in front of him. He could not be selfish and add to that burden.

And so he forgot what it felt like to hold another's hand. For that one second, he felt like laughing and crying. He wanted to put everything into words but found that there were no words big enough for how he felt.

He forgot the privilege of being touched. It was a warmth that he had craved but never dared to ask for. And for once, he allowed himself to be selfish, to feel the sanctity of allowing someone into his life.

His fingers curled around the warmth, carefully like he was holding the rarest thing in the world.

The little girl tugged on his arm, unaware of his earth shattering realization. He looked up into those green eyes and smiled, "I want to leave this place."