SHE WAS having nightmares.
She was standing at the edge of the Snow Clan base, back in the Human World. She was standing, watching the Daemonium destroy the people that lived there. There was screaming, so much screaming, and so much death and blood and the screaming.
Andorra couldn't move. She was rooted in place, but forced beyond her control, forced to watch as they terrorized the town square, the same one she had walked once with Lithe and Oberon, buying stalks of brussel sprouts, hoping to build a bridge between Lithe and herself.
That felt like so long ago. Like years had passed between now and then, when things were simple and she was in love with a boy who had a dark past and a darker future.
She watched, trapped, as Oberon and Lithe stepped into the town center. Oberon had his hands around his mouth, screaming, "Andorra!" Beside him, Lithe was crying, perhaps out of fear or out of losing Andorra, there was no telling which.
It was like being held down. She fought the bonds that held her tight, trapped her there, forced to watch as a Daemonium came from nowhere and crashed down on her friends, gripped them with one large, black inky hand.
Andorra felt the scream rip from her throat. She watched Oberon slip through the inky hands, falling falling falling towards the ground. Andorra couldn't watch him hit the cobblestones, wouldn't let herself watch as the red of his blood mixed with the white of his hair.
Lithe was still in its hands, wriggling and writhing and screaming and crying. She was fighting. She was a human and she was fighting. Andorra watched, helpless as Lithe was lifted and then, with no hesitation, swallowed by the Daemonium.
Andorra was speechless. She was floored. She was still as stone, trying to process the death of her friends. Oberon was still on the stone. Lithe was gone. And the Daemonium wasn't finished.
"Andy!"
Andorra spun towards that voice, watching as Noah spilled into the Town Square. He was bloody and torn and upset, tears staining his cheeks. And he was yelling for her, so desperate his voice was raw and broken, scraping against the back of his throat.
Andorra hadn't been sure Oberon and Lithe could see her, but Noah could see her. They made eye contact through the square, and there was real relief in his eyes as he charged towards her. One flick of his wrist and the Daemonium charging towards him turned to ice, freezing up in a moment, frozen in time.
There were no words. Noah wrapped his body around her and held on so tightly Andorra couldn't breathe. She wrapped her arms around him, finding solace in his arms, crying for him and Oberon and Lithe and wishing, wishing things didn't have to end this way.
His hands found her cheeks, rubbing the tears away, and Andorra felt the breath stolen from her throat at the sight of him, there, finally, in front of her. It had been too long. So long. "Andy," he said over and over again, whispering the words against her skin. It was like a mantra he kept saying, and it broke Andorra every time he said it.
And then, when he let her go, there was something about his face. It was dark, cold, murderous. It was not his face at all, and there in his hands was a long, long dagger. There was something about the way his hands caressed it, pet it, stroked it that made Andorra vomit all over the cobblestone beneath her feet.
"My dear Andorra," he whispered to the dagger. "How I will love to kill you. You didn't think you'd come with us, did you? Poor sun faerie, really thought we'd love you?"
He looked her in the eye, and plunged the dagger into Andorra's chest, right where her human heart beat for the last time.
She looked at him, at his eyes, his blue eyes, and she broke. She slumped forward, blood rushing from her mouth, her hands grinding into the stone. With one hand, she felt for the dagger, gripping it tightly. She looked up at Noah, at the love of her life, wondering what she had done wrong. What she had done to deserve this death.
"You made the wrong choice," he said, his voice dark. "You made the wrong choice when you picked us. And now, your entire clan will pay for the decision of a child."
Andorra reached after him, even as Noah walked away. He was laughing. He was laughing and he put his hands in his pockets and winked at her as he walked away, further and further from where she kneeled, fighting the urge to lay down.
She ripped the dagger from her chest, screaming at the raw pain, letting herself feel something before she slumped to the cobblestone, letting herself bleed out long and slow.
When Andorra awoke from the nightmare, she was laying in bed in a similar position; slumped face down on her mattress. She scrambled to sit up, her hands immediately feeling her chest, looking for the hole that was supposed to be there, but there was nothing there but flat, smooth skin.
A nightmare, she told herself, nothing but a nightmare. But it had felt so real. Too real. And Noah's words to her had felt more real than anything else.
When she got ready for breakfast in the bathroom, she washed the remnants of the nightmare away in the sink. She washed her face, her teeth, and brushed her hair. She fought to ignore the real pain she felt in chest, a phantom injury that never happened.
Except, it had happened. She had been stabbed in the chest, although it had been metaphorically. But, Noah had still done that to her. He had broken her heart, stabbed her where it hurt, and would have gotten away with it if Andorra hadn't happened to overhear his father.
The thought plagued her mind all the way to breakfast. She had walked with Coralia, who was rightfully concerned, but there was nothing Andorra could do to stop the feeling of death on her lips. She had died on those stones. And Noah had killed her.
"You look like death. No offense," Hans said to her when she sat down. He was eyeing her like he was concerned. Andorra didn't have the energy to figure out if it was genuine or not.
"Didn't sleep well probably," Bort said, chewing on a fingernail. "That happens to me too, sometimes. I get homesick and can't sleep." A sheepish piece of truth, and Andorra smiled at Bort to let him know she felt similarly. She was homesick. He just didn't need to know that wasn't what kept her up at night.
"Alright, leave Andorra alone. Let's talk about weekend plans."
That seemed to shift the attention. Bort and Hans both swivelled in their seats towards Coralia, excitement dancing in their features. "Let's go skiing!" Hans suggested, his grin a little too wolfish. Bort elbowed him in the ribs. "No, let's go to the city!"
Coralia rolled her eyes, but it was playful. "Alright Andorra, you get to pick. City or skiing?"
"I've never been skiing before, so city it is."
Hans gave her a withering look, but Bort's smile made up for it. Like a child on Christmas, he clapped his hands and grinned, looking at Hans like perhaps he won the lottery. Andorra made the mental note that Bort was easy to please, while Hans was harder to figure out.
Food appeared in front of them, just as magical as before. It was a steaming plate of eggs and meat, though Andorra couldn't tell what type of meat it was. She took her first bite, nearly moaning at the taste alone. It had no reason being that delicious.
"I think we should take you skiing so you can learn," Hans argued, but a swift thud and he shut up, grumbling into his plate of eggs. Andorra could bet that Coralia had kicked him under the table to get him to shut up.
"No skiing, no mountains, no heights. And certainly no Winter Court." Coralia's words were final. Before Andorra could dwell on the last part, Coralia was shifting her gaze to Andorra with rapt excitement. "The city is gorgeous this time of year. Oh, and the market will be held on Saturday! Ooh we can go shopping! I know a dress maker in the city-"
"Ew, we are not dress shopping," Hans groaned. Another thud had him frowning into his plate again. His eyes slid to Andorra with a see what I put up with? look on his face.
"Girls like dresses. And boys like to see girls in dresses. So hush."
"Well I think it'll be fun," Bort added, grinning around a mouthful of breakfast. "Besides, I heard that they're selling more goat milk at the market. I want to grab some for soap!"
Andorra didn't know what Bort meant by that, but there was no time to ask as a bell rang overhead, signalling the end of breakfast and the start of class. Andorra was ready this time; she had spent last night going over the locations of her classes with Coralia, just to make sure she didn't show up late twice in one week. Especially during her first week. Talk about awkward.
Coralia stood, lingering at the table. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you?"
Andorra brushed her off with a wave of her hand. "No, go on ahead to your class. I'm sure you don't wanna be late too."
Coralia gave Andorra a lingering look, and then turned and head out of the dining hall with Hans and Bort. The three of them looked as though they could be siblings. Andorra would have loved to see the three of them as kids.
She wandered out of the dining hall, pulling out her map. Just as she opened it up, two fingers plucked it out of her grasp, holding it up above her head.
The first thing she noticed about him were the shadows. They spilled out around him like a fog machine, settling along the floor and covering her shoes. It poured out of him; out of his arms, his legs, his hair. The shadows themselves had the consistency of fog, and when Andorra touched it, the shadow was cold to the touch.
He wasn't smiling at her. His eyes were as black as the shadows around him, and his stare made the hairs on the back of Andorra's neck stand on end. She felt like she recognized him, but she wasn't sure from where.
"You don't need this where you're going, Princess." His tone was mocking, teasing, but also angry deep down. A rumble of hatred that had belonged to Anders as well.
Andorra swallowed her fear. "You're right, I guess. I already memorized the way."
The shadows around him ate up the map entirely, making it disappear from sight. She noticed then that his hands and forearms were black as night, blending in with the shadows. The rest of his skin, from what she could tell, was pale as snow.
A Winter Faerie, then. And from the looks of it, he was from the Shadow Clan.
"My father's been talking about you." The way he said it made Andorra think that the things being said weren't very kind.
"Do I know your father?" Andorra looked past the boy, watching as students disappeared. This would be the second time she would be late for class, and the thought made her anxious. She shifted her weight to one foot, then looked back at the boy.
He tipped his head back, trying to assess whether or not Andorra was lying. "You know my sister Aihfie."
Prince Puck's son, was the first thought. Then, Aihfie has a brother?
"I didn't realize Prince Puck had a son." Even she knew she sounded childish. Naive. Stupid.
"Callum, at your service." He bowed, but it felt more threatening than anything. When he straightened, he grinned. "You're friends with my soulmate."
Andorra's mouth opened and closed. Then, Callum added, "Well, you aren't friends yet. But you will be. When the clock strikes Spring in October, you'll be thick as thieves."
More backwards talk. Spring in October? Andorra blinked at him, not understanding his words or what they meant. Why he was telling her. "Who is she?"
Callum's grin darkened. "Now, it wouldn't be fair to tell you. But, she does want me to return the map. And if not that, then to help you find your way to class."
Andorra looked around them, but there was no one standing there. No one talking to him, telling him she was upset about the map. The look on Andorra's face must have tipped off her growing confusion because Callum let out a laugh. "We talk through our soulmate bond. When you find your special someone, you'll be able to do it too."
It was too tempting to not take the bait. "So everyone has a soulmate? Like... in the werewolf movies?" To Andorra, a mate belonged to werewolves in silly YA books she read. It was stupid and fake and not real.
"Kind of. Soulmates are people that come in and out of your different lives. Your souls are intertwined together. In every life you live, well, you find this person again. They're your person. We all have one, but we don't always find each other every life. Sometimes, it takes many different lifetimes to come across them again. If you're lucky, you find them in every life."
Her head swam. "In... every life?" So there were more lives than just the one she was currently living? She had been reincarnated? Her mind spit out facts of Hinduism from the many years of school, trying to piece together what reincarnation was.
Callum looked over her shoulder. "I gotta go." He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and it wasn't entirely friendly. "You and my soulmate will be friends one day, and so I'm giving you this gift. Don't show anyone your human heart. Keep that part of you hidden for only your trusted friends, and even then, be careful. Your human heart will be your downfall if you aren't careful."
Andorra didn't know what to make of that. Callum sidestepped her and walked away, his shadows following him and slinking away from her entirely. He gave her one last look, a wink, and then he was gone.
And in his place was her map. It fluttered to the ground, face side up, showing her the path to class. Just like Jezebel had once done for her. Andorra blinked at the paper, then snatched it up, her chest oddly hollow.
There was something he and Jezebel were trying to tell her. She knew it would be wise to keep track of the hints of truth that the people around her seemed to keep giving her.
Andorra gripped the map in her hand, looked back at the empty space that Callum had just been in, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. The more time spent there, the more she began to wonder if Anlithamy was one big test, and the whole world was waiting for her to fail.
* * *
hello hello!
I hope you guys are ready to rumbleeeeeee
I've been waiting to release this chapter so you guys can meet Callum! yayayay
Anyway, hope you're having a wonderful weekend!
xoxo