There is a whole world Azora has yet to discover. That is our world.
The times have changed, humans have changed and somewhere along the way, they forgot about the magical races, forcing them to go into hiding.
Azora comes from one of those hidden r...
"If only it were that easy," she said. "That is something you could do. But not me. Look at yourself! You don't have to hide all the mistakes made by those who dared to call themselves doctors."
"Mistakes?" I asked. My hands found something to do; they were wiping the tears off my cheeks, still shaky. I gazed at her with narrow eyes, trying to give her words some sort of meaning.
She stepped to the table which was the only thing that stood between us. She didn't look at me. Instead, she turned her attention to her hands. The hands that were always hidden inside the gloves.
Slowly, she removed one of the gloves and lifted her hand in front of her face. Endless sorrow consumed her eyes.
I found myself staring at her hand. It was impossible to miss the scars. Bulged lines of red, rugose skin streaked the inner side of each finger. They stood out in stark contrast to the whiteness of her skin.
She clenched her fingers into a fist with the saddest smile on her face.
I swallowed to get rid of the lump in my throat. Looking at my hands, I felt guilt. Although I played no part in her transition to land, I still felt guilty. There were no scars on my hands, not a single one, and her hands were a constant reminder of who she once was. The scars, combined with the yearning for water, made it impossible for her to forget.
"They didn't care about aesthetics. They only cared about survival," she continued. Her eyes rested on her fist, but I had a felling she was looking right through it as memories came. "They developed a new method of creating organs and they needed a guinea pig. Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Bioprint method," I said. "They used it to create my lungs as well. Removed the gills, gave me lungs."
"Gave me lungs, stitched the gills," she said with a new wave of sadness.
With that said, she removed the scarf. On each side of her neck I could see a bulge. Across them ran the same scars as on her hands. Her pale skin made them very conspicuous.
She must have seen the shock on my face because she said, "Like I said, they only cared about survival."
At that point I realized Opal was right. They hacked her up and didn't even bother to hide the evidence of their misdoings.
I felt my knees shaking. Standing became a challenging mission, so I sat down.
"Oh, Professor Cyan," I whispered, "I had no idea..." Once more the tears filled my eyes, making everything blurry.
"Of course you had no idea. It isn't something I would gladly share with others. Who would want to look at the monster they created? And to think, they said that they have been attentive when it comes to the 'exposed' parts of my body. Trust me, you don't want to know what scars I bear under my clothes."
I was in disbelief. Just a few days ago I was showing Opal my scars, or lack thereof. I couldn't put myself in Ms. Cyan's skin. I was unable to imagine the agony that must have been a part of her life since the first day she set foot on dry land.
"I suppose that by the end of the weekend, the whole school is going to be familiar with the reasons Professor Cyan wears gloves," she said in a brittle voice.
"No!" I shook my head. "I won't speak about this to anyone! I promise!"
Another promise was given by me. A promise I wasn't gonna break.
My surmise got its confirmation. I wasn't the only Aquantien in this school and I was not about to let down my own race.
This time, I had to keep my promise.
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Thank you for sticking with Call of the Water. Another mystery revealed in this chapter...
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