I. ATLAS AND THE SKY
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❝If that is what is reflected in your heart
Then search for the dawn❞
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WAS IT BAD THAT SHE WANTED to cry for no apparent reason?
She hoped not, for that would be terrible for the people around her to endure. Especially since she was told since young that she was a cry-baby. But as of now, was it really without reason?
Perhaps not.
Perhaps it was because she was recalling the story of Atlas, the titan that bore the sky aloft; she always wondered how he held up the sky, was it painful? Or maybe it felt like nothing, which she now doubted because if it was a punishment, how could it not be painful?
So, the question was: How in the bloody hell did Atlas held up the sky that separated heaven and earth?
Every single glance toward the sky continuously makes her question about it. Before she knew it, before she could even comprehend it, she would always find the question unnecessarily haunting her mind to no end; it just sounded so unreal whenever she read or heard about it. But then again, it's a part of a myth, so what did she really expect?
Whether it was real or not would remain a mystery until the end of time, so her thoughts were baseless and she should've just taken the story with a grain of salt.
But she didn't.
That was her fault.
Now she would have to go into countless state of wonder that she just wished she never got into in the first place. The annoying thought really couldn't pass her mind even if she prayed for it to go away, for even if it was only a story, she still knew that there was still a question that still has been left unanswered. And that was: How in the hell did Atlas even have the will to do it?
Sure, he was condemned to do it because of him taking part in the war against the gods and yadda yadda... but, the thing was, how much will could one have to even go through with that? Surely he'd lost it after a millennia or so?
Nope.
The answer was nope. He's probably still doing it, and no one would ever know. And why exactly? Because he was probably too prideful to accept defeat and refused to be incapacitate?
Probably.
But whatever it was, she was sure that if was ever to be in his place, she would've just kick the bucket already. Even just thinking about it made her upper-arms weak and jelly because of how much work she would have to put in, and not to mention that even as she deposited all her belongings into her large trunk — a supposed trivial job to do — she felt as if she wanted to disappear right there and then.
Truly, she applauded Atlas for his commitment.
Kind of, anyway.
"Knock, knock, Lucia. Big brother coming in!"
"Nope! Big brother can stay outside," sang Lucia, shutting her trunk and wheeling around to face the owner of the voice with a bored expression. "You don't have to always mention when you're coming in, or exiting out. Knocking does it for you."
"Yeah, well, knocking doesn't indicates you exiting. So I'll stick with what I always do," he said with a wide grin that was curled on his lips so deviously that made it very hard for Lucia to fight back the urge to pull all his blonde hair out until he becomes bald.
With a deadpanning expression, Lucia pushed back the thought and crossed her arms over her chest. "Get out,"
"Oh c'mon, little sister. I was just joking!"
"If you have nothing important to say, Hugo, get out." Lucia said, cringing at his mocking words.
Hugo Beaumont, a boy whom possessed a charm that often makes Lucia wonder why she was even his sister in the first place until she remembered that, oh yeah, they weren't blood related thanks to his parents adopting her.
Ah, Lucia thought reminiscently of when Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont did not put all this weight in her shoulder and never treated her as the trophy daughter they so wanted.
But, it was also her fault for wanting to please, isn't it?
Hugo entered her room without an invitation and looked around at how plain it had become in just a short amount of time. "I can't believe it's that time of the year..." he mumbled.
"Yeah, well, can't do anything about that, right? It is apart of the law for me to go to school," said Lucia simply. Plus, then I can rest as myself...
"I still can't comprehend the fact that you're magical and all, and there's a school in Scotland just for that!" he said with jazz hands, sitting himself on top of her trunk. "It's so far too... Don't you miss me when you're out there, alone?"
She scrunched her nose and rolled her eyes. "Disgusting."
"I'll pretend like I didn't heard that..." murmured Hugo, rising from the trunk with a small smile. "Are you sure you don't want Mum to bring you to the station? I don't think he is responsible enough to take you to the station." He glared out of the window, eyes twitching as though he was imagining the person.
"That 'he' is your best friend, Hugo. You're talking about him as if he's your enemy or something," Lucia snorted, shaking her head.
"This is why I don't trust him with you, Lucia! You don't see how he looks at you, how he eyes you like he likes you — like he wants to eat you!"
"You're exaggerating. Again." Lucia said stonily.
"No, I'm not!" Hugo stressed, "I'm his best friend, which means I know him like the back of my hand. I have him wrap around my pinkie fingers, and I also have him wrap around my —"
"Stop right there," Lucia clamped her hand over his mouth with her brows furrowed, repulsed. "Don't even tell me what you're about to say," she said.
Hugo flailed his arms around, "See! He's tainted you already!"
"Listen, Hugo, why are you worrying so much in the first place? Even if he does like me, doesn't mean I feel the exact same way, do I?"
"Do you?" Hugo narrowed his eyes at her, "Do you, Lucia? Do you like my best friend?" he pressed.
"What if I — that's besides the point!" breathed Lucia.
"So you do!" he yelled.
"Oh, stop it!" she smacked his arm. Hugo yelped, before she pointed her fingers at him threateningly, "I don't like him like that! He's just the second person I trust other than you around here. And you must be mental to think that I can walk to King's Cross Station on my own! That'll literally take hours — and I don't have hours!"
"I never said that you'll have to walk," said Hugo, still attempting to change Lucia's mind. "I just thought that, maybe, Mum..."
His voice faded into a trail when he caught her deafening cold eyes as she glared at him. Hugo immediately shrunk at this, not feeling like the eldest child he was supposed to be, for it was as if he was staring right into the depths of hell that even his mother couldn't compare to.
Hugo let out a small yelp.
Lucia's chest heaved heavily, before wheeling her head away from him. "You're an idiot to think that I'll even attempt to try and talk to her again after dinner yesterday," she seethed under her breath. "You're an idiot to even think that I want to see her face in the first place!"
And before they both knew it, her body quivered dangerously as she hugged herself for comfort. But she did her best to not show her state, as she felt embarrassed by it. However, Hugo's eyes softened immensely at this.
"I-I can't see her after what she — what they called me."
"Lucia..."
"You don't understand, Hugo." Her voice cracked, quietening little-by-little. "No one ever does around here. All they do is judge, and I learnt that the hard way..."
Hugo wrapped his arms around his little sister, and she couldn't help but find the need to seek comfort. Despite them not being related by blood, Hugo had always seen Lucia as his little sister and he didn't think the thought would ever falter. She was precious to him, even when his parents told him to stray away from her after the announcement that she was a witch. That she was different than them.
Last dinner was really rough for her, and he knew that. Especially after their whole family practically ganged up against her for something she didn't even do. It was mostly a surprise that she hadn't thought of running away when she could've many times before, and he wouldn't even blame her even if she did. She's been through a lot these pass years because of his family... how his siblings would constantly torment her just because she was different than them, how his parents tried continuously moulding her into this doll that they think would perform well in their society, when it's only shattering her even more.
Hugo thought that last night would be the last straw and that Lucia was finally going to find her own freedom from the chains that were holding her back, but he also knew that it was a far-fetched fantasy that only he could dream of. No matter how many times he told her that it was fine to leave them, she wouldn't. She couldn't, because she "owe" them for taking her in when no one would.
But the thing was, she didn't "owe" them anything. She just hadn't learn that yet — or perhaps she refuse to acknowledge that.
Even when they were terrible to her, she tend to keep her feelings lock away in the safe chest that was her heart.
Hugo knew that the day she'll realise that will come, but until then he vowed to protect her in any way, shape or form, with all the power he has. It was unfortunate that he didn't have much right now...
"T-They aren't saying it like it's the truth, right Hugo?" Lucia said croakily against his shoulder, "Was I dressed like a prostitute? Was mother right when she said that I'm practically a harlot?"
"Are you kidding me?" Hugo pulled away, looking into her quivering eyes, studying for any trace of joke in it. He wondered if she always brought these eyes to a place he deemed to be better than here. Anywhere is better than here for her... "Just because you were in a dress that was shorter than knee-length in the middle of a hot summer, does not make you a prostitute. I don't know why I have to stress this in the first place, but I guess because of that darn old lady, I have to!" Hugo frustratingly ruffled his hair, before pointing his finger adamantly at her, "Don't you dare listen to her again. She's just senile."
Lucia was able to muster out a small laugh, wiping her subtle tears away. "Don't let her hear that, or else she's going to force you to eat bean sprouts for a whole month whilst I'm gone,"
"She won't do that, I'm her fav —"
"Don't even pretend like Damien's not there. We all know that you're in third place, whilst Annette and Claire are tied for second," Lucia added in a singsong tone.
"You're too cruel, little sister," said Hugo, huffing dramatically with a hand over his heart.
"I'm also being realistic," Lucia then turned her heel toward her bed, where her purse was. She shouldered it, and turned to face Hugo who already readied himself with her trunk. "Now, before the train leaves, I have to get going."
Hugo glanced out of the window, "Right on the clock, I guess. He's —"
"Lucetta! Hugo!" Mrs. Beaumont's voice echoed around the house so loudly that the two thought there may have been some glass shattering somewhere around the house. Her voice whenever she attempts to turn on her persona was shrill, which was the complete opposite of the woman they knew of. Lucia and Hugo exchanged glances with one another knowingly. "Your friend, Leon, is here!"
"It's Luci-ANA. Luciana! It's really not that hard to pronounce or remember," Lucia sighed distastefully.
Hugo rubbed her back sympathetically. "At least she got it close this time. Last time it was..."
"...horrible. Who has the name Cindy around here, anyway? No one!" she complained. "After all these years..."
"There, there,"
"Lucetta!"
Hugo tensed and immediately glanced at Lucia, whose eyes were twitching in agitation. Before she could burst into her normal fits of curses, Hugo slung his arm around her shoulders at once and naturally guided her out of her room while also trying to divert her focus away from his mother: "I forgot to tell you what happened yesterday. This kid name Dudley..." And astonished by the name, Lucia distractedly yelped out: "Dudley?!" Before Hugo started a whole rant about this said person.
Lucia wasn't sure why, but every step she took down the stairs felt as if electricity surged through her body, wanting her to halt from ever moving forward. She felt nervous — anxious even, as she played around with strands of her hair, twirling them around her fingers. This would be the first time since dinner she would be facing her mother again.
Was it normal to feel scared?
"She's not going to yell at you, especially with Leon here." Hugo whispered to her, "She loves Leon more than her own son,"
Lucia shook her head, "Don't say that, she loves you more than she does Leon."
Hugo, however, casted her a look, unimpressed.
She heaved out a sigh, "Okay, okay," she said defeatedly. "Maybe she loves you a teensy more than Leon."
"And that's because I'm her firstborn," scoffed Hugo. "She's forced to love me more."
"Looks like that doesn't imply to me," breathed Lucia, and Hugo frowned at her words but didn't bother to say anything.
Because if he did, they both knew he would be lying.
"Finally!" Mrs. Beaumont held a peculiar expression that simply brought chills down Lucia's spine as she stood near her.
Her gaze, though looking as if she could barely hurt a fly, was dangerously sharp and patronising to the point that it told Lucia enough of how if it weren't for Leon or even Hugo being present, she would've gotten more than a slap on the wrist.
Lucia looked away dismissively. Perhaps she was just overthinking it, but Mrs. Beaumont's eyes were seemingly trying to pierce through her soul. Alas, her efforts were useless thanks to the sudden shift of atmosphere when Lucia immediately tore her gaze away and made to eye the guest.
"Hi, Lucia," greeted Leon Casimir, the very friend of whom Hugo had been both dreading and glad to see.
Putting aside of what Hugo said about the guy in her room, Lucia didn't think Leon was a bad-looking guy. Actually, she thought he had a peculiar, yet devilishly good-looking face that could make anyone fawn over him, and make any parents want him to be their son-in-law; his dark complexion beautifully complimented his eyes that simply brightened whenever it was given the chance. He possessed both beauty and grace, and frankly she never understood how someone like him could ever become tightly-knit with a messy person like Hugo. She really didn't see it.
Bashfully, Lucia waved at him.
"Hi," Was all she could say before she looked away, feeling slightly overwhelmed by his smile that she could tell was filled with fondness.
To who? Perhaps Hugo, but she didn't know that...
Hugo rolled his eyes at her obliviousness, or maybe plain denial as she was doing everything but acknowledging the fawning eyes that were heading her way. But maybe her denial was proving to be quite blissful for him, for it meant that his best friend and little sister won't be dating anytime sooner. Or any time at all.
That was for the best, he thought.
"Uh... so..." drawled Leon, bouncing by the balls of her feet. "Hugo told me yesterday that your train leaves at..."
"Eleven. Not later, nor earlier. Eleven flat." Lucia said.
Leon nodded slowly, and the atmosphere gradually became tense. Hugo swore that he could practically cut it with a knife by how heavily tense it was.
"Thanks a lot, mate," said Hugo, reverting their attention to him. "I appreciate it a lot."
"We appreciate it a lot," interjected Mrs. Beaumont with a smile. She rounded around before reaching Lucia and grasping the girl's shoulders. Lucia flinched at the contact, but Mrs. Beaumont merely shrugged it off. "An angel sent from the heavens, you are Leonel."
"You're flattering me too much, Mrs. Beaumont," said Leon with a casual, good-natured smile. If it was possible, Lucia swore she saw a halo on his head from the way he was acting. "Hugo told me about your predicament of how Mr. Beaumont's out of town now, and that Maria didn't have any transport. And it was really like hitting two birds with one stone, since not only can I help you, but my family are off to London anyway."
"We'll be sure to repay you back," said Mrs. Beaumont. Then, suddenly, her grasp around Lucia's shoulders tightened, causing the girl to gasp from the strength. "Isn't that right, dear?"
Hugo snapped his head suspiciously at his mother.
With a sharp inhale, Lucia managed a small smile. "Of course, Mother," she answered her robotically.
"Mum —"
"Now, now, Hugo. I know you're going to miss your sister since she won't be returning until next summer, but you have to let her go. She still needs to learn," said Mrs. Beaumont to her son in a scolding tone.
Hugo could hardly refrain himself from rolling his eyes. Says the one that forbade her going for her second year... "Leon,"
"Yeah?" Claude answered distractedly, diverting his eyes away from Lucia, who was busy inside her own world to even notice his lingering gaze.
Too annoyed already, Hugo pretended to not acknowledge that simple gesture. "Don't do anything funny," he narrowed his eyes at him.
Leon scoffed a laugh. "Like I ever do,"
"Don't be rude!" Mrs. Beaumont chastised him.
"Whatever, just don't do anything funny whilst I'm gone. 'Cause I can assure you if you do —"
"C-Can we go now?" Lucia cut Hugo off absentmindedly, looking down at her watch anxiously. "We have to go now before traffic hits us."
"Yeah, we should really get going." Leon bade both Mrs. Beaumont goodbye and attempted to snatch away her trunk from Hugo, who didn't budge whatsoever, stuck in his spot like a giant boulder. Lucia swiftly poked his nape, instantly making him let go of the trunk.
He grinned and took the trunk away from his best friend, going back to his parents' black car to deposit her trunk, leaving the Beaumonts to themselves.
"Remember, Lucinda —"
"It's Lucia..."
"Mum..." warned Hugo, but she merely ignored him.
"— don't you ever forget about what your father and I thought you over the summer, and do not forget about the competition next year. Practice those movement ever day if you will until you perfect it. I don't care if your feet hurts, just practice. I will not have you embarrass our family in the next competition like you did last year."
Lucia nodded slowly, glaring at the floor. "Yes, Mother." I don't like gymnastic, though...
"Mum, I swear —"
"Hush, Hugo! Your mother is talking, have some respect!" chided Mrs. Beaumont, and Hugo was about to retort when Lucia quickly sent him a blazing look that said: Drop it.
He huffed, looking away. "Whatever,"
"And for heaven sake!" Mrs. Beaumont whisper-yelled, reaching her hand out in an instant, causing Lucia to take a step back and flinch, which went unnoticed by the woman who snatched away the blooming peony flower that was tucking her hair. "When will you stop with this unruliness?! You are Lucia Beaumont, how many times do I have to tell you that! We took you in, and this is how you act as repayment? This" — she displayed the peony in front of Lucia's face — "unruliness will not be looked pass by your peers! You will stop with this ridiculousness and finally do something right for once, do you understand?"
"Listen here —"
"Y-Yes, Mother," Lucia answered quietly to the point that it was incoherent.
"Good. I won't be hard on you this time, but if I see or hear about you wasting your time on something like 'drawing' or 'playing' flowers again instead of doing what your father and I have specified you to do," There was a deafening silence, and it felt as though time slowed as the peony in Mrs. Beaumont's hand slowly went into ruins; petals fluttering along the wind by a simple gesture of a clamp that made her breath hitch. "Well, let's hope for that day to never come." And with that, Mrs. Beaumont disappeared into the house, away from Lucia's eyes reach.
She was frozen, shocked by the whole thing. Yet, at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to properly react as all she could do was turn to look at her older brother.
"Lucia —"
"Hugo, I have to go," breathed Lucia distractedly. "I have to go before the train leaves."
"Lucia, do whatever you want to do. Don't listen to her!" Hugo said, stressing his words as his jaw clenched.
"I have to listen to her. Even if I don't like them, I still have to listen to her if I ever want to repay your parents for all they've done for me," Lucia said breathlessly, quiet. "She's right, I've embarrassed your family too many times already —"
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" started Hugo incredulously, "She's playing with your mind and you know that! They're making you into their trophy daughter by making you do stuff that you don't even like!"
"I do —"
Hugo began to feel frustrated, "No, you don't like all those rubbish they forced you to do! You don't like gymnastics, or singing! You like artsy stuff and playing instruments!" He seized her shoulders, "You don't owe them anything, why can't you see that?"
"It doesn't matter whether or not it's true or false,"
"It does!"
"Well, I don't care." Lucia said, wiggling his hands off of her. "What she said was not really wrong, but at the same time it's not really right." She turned her heel, clutching her purse tightly. "A-And Hugo, I'm not going to cry about it like I did before. I can shake it off."
Before Hugo could say anything more, Lucia already ran off to Leon. The hot tears that brimmed her eyes were threatening to fall, but Lucia refused to let them go even if it meant that she couldn't blink. She could shake it off. She could totally shake it off like it was nothing.
"Lucia, are you done — ?" But she simply got into the backseat of the car without any word, looking out of the window.
Leon frowned at this and wondered what was wrong. He looked back at Hugo, who stood at the porch of his house with a worried expression, and then he turned back to Lucia.
"Lucia, are you all right?" He asked.
"I'm fine... C-Can we go now?" Although her gaze didn't falter from outside of the window, her voice told him a synopsis of what happened and that his theory was right.
She was trying her best to not cry.
"Yeah, of course." Leon eyed his father through the review mirror, signalling him with a nod.
As her eyes form a crystal surface, blurring her vision, Maria couldn't help but hear the sound of her mother's voice echoing her mind. Don't embarrass the family... Well, let's hope for that day to never come...
How did Atlas hold up the sky, when she couldn't even take in her mother's chides without wanting to cry.
God, why did you mould her into such a pathetic and useless person?