Wayfinding | Aaravos x Reader |

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 43: LOST STRANDS

You woke up the next morning with one single thought on your mind: screw everything.

Screw forging false identities. Screw vague entanglements. And screw being repentant for havocs that were beyond your control.

Aaravos promised you a redo - a new lease of life. It was what you had always quietly pined for but never had the spunk to seek yourself. So you decided that, even if hell and heaven were to collide at dusk, you were going to make the absolute most of your second chance.

And, truly, what better way to kick off a midlife crisis than snipping off your hair?

You thought it was a brilliant idea. In fact, when you peeped at yourself in the mirror, you felt like a novel woman. Not the demure and pathetic lady that you acted as for the past decade. Nor were you the dewy-eyed babe from your youth. You were something different. Almost reborn.

Needless to say, Viren was livid. Not because you had changed your appearance, but because you disposed your locks. He tried to maintain his composure - which was both expected and needed after the heartfelt conversation the two of you shared the night prior - but he still had an inkling that you had wasted a precious source of magic.

Despite the Lord's adamance, you were convinced that all that left his mouth was rubbish. You owed him nothing. And he most certainly shouldn't have guilted you for wanting something for yourself. Hence, with the same attitude as that forenoon, you said, "screw it!" You would have loved for things to be peaches and cream afterwards. But it nipped you to know that, irrespective of your efforts, the male failed to acknowledge your remodeled look. You were still some relic to him. Not a living, breathing woman who may or may not want her betrothed to blush at the sight of her.

And that was where your childhood friend entered the picture. Obviously, his compliments were not explicit, but his dallying, sidelong glances were enough to tell you he was charmed by your makeover. Whatever you felt, as a result of that, was pure and embracing - like revisiting a hazy, cherished memory. However, as not to complicate matters, you dismissed the sweet nostalgia and steered clear of the King when he neared you. Unfortunately, there was no subtle way of achieving that.

"In a hurry?" asked the high-blood, reminding you starkly of good ol' Ruven.

The grimace that notched your features thereafter should have discouraged the male from approaching, but he looked like he was itching to speak to you. Although you knew better, you decided to indulge him for the sake of benevolence. "Oh, Harrow! Apologies, I didn't see you there."

"Why are you skulking around like you're up to no good?"

"Me?" You choked. "Pff, you're off your rocker. I'm . . . my mind is elsewhere."

Your excuse was not flimsy. It was executed well too. But the King was still riddled with skepticism. As if your visage was a code to be deciphered, the noble stood there for a moment and studied every crest and trough of your face. "What's the matter?"

Betraying your false display, your eyes widened. "N-Nothing. I just have . . . good news!"

"What news?"

That was a good question. A very good question. What new lie were you going to concoct today? "Well, I . . . you might not consider it fondly-"

"Oh, be lively now! Don't keep me waiting."

"The thing is . . ." You stalled, surprised the male didn't catch the sound of your nervous gulp. Viren did say a lie is better than silence, no? So a half truth shouldn't keep you lying awake at night, would it? "I'm learning magic again."