Pain becomes numb after too many hits. After the blood dries and the head pounding distracts you from the bruises around your body, you stop feeling it. Zach Caster, my dad only by blood, didn't grow tired of beating me.
I wasn't sure how many days I had been in the basement. West's body had been moved, and I had ran out of tears to cry. So, when the basement door slowly opened and Zach made his way down the stairs, I didn't flinch. He hadn't come into the room for a few days, but other people that I hadn't seen before had come in for a gander. Some Changelings, some trolls. There weren't limits.
Zach looked better than when I last saw him, and was dressed in a black suit. The only mark on his face was a scar over his eyebrow, with his hair styled back. He strode over to me, a frown on his face.
"Unfortunately," he grunted, walking over to me with his knife, "Morgana requires a living heir. Meaning, we have to let you go."
I remained silent, and he began sawing at the ropes that had held me. As soon as he finished the ropes, I stayed seated. He probably expected me to leap up, but I couldn't move. My legs were in too much pain.
"Oh," he said, an innocent look on his face, "I suppose that's a problem, isn't it."
He pulled out his phone from the inside of his coat, dialling a few numbers. As he spoke, his voice was deadly calm, if not mocking.
"Yes? Hello, I've found the missing girl, Romera Caster. The address?" Zach rolled his eyes, pointing at the phone and sending me an 'are you kidding me' look, "Can't you just track the call? Look, just come here before she dies."
He hung up the phone, giving me a surprised look and laughing. "The services these days! They assume I want to tell them where you are!"
Even now, I could hear the sirens outside the house. Zach hummed for a second, before shrugging.
"That was quick," he noted, bemused. "Well, I must be off."
It took only a second for Zach to walk up the stairs. A moment later, I heard a knocking at the door, and a gruff voice announced that it was the police. I was too weak to call out, but luckily the basement door was slammed open. An officer, Sheriff Grey, locked eyes with me and leapt over.
I recognised the Sheriff from the last time I had seen him, when I almost told him of my dad and what he did. Westley had nearly convinced me to, but I had chickened out at the last minute. Westley. My heart ached to see my best friend, to let him know that I would never forget him. But I wouldn't be able to. He had died too early, only seventeen. My age.
My mouth moved to tell the Sheriff about West, but no noise left my mouth. Gently, Grey lifted me into his arms, and I winced at every movement.
"How are you not dead?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. I shifted in and out of a numb consciousness, with faint words barley reaching my ears. I focused on the roof. Lights every few seconds that rushed past, a gross eggshell colour. Faces briefly flashed over mine, speaking obviously desperate words that I couldn't hear.
I hated hospitals. Too many people died there, and those who weren't dead left family and friends sitting anxiously in the hall. I remembered when my mum had been in here, for what I thought had been lukemia. I guessed some magic had been used to convince the doctors, and her, that it was how she died. Everything I had been raised on was a lie. My dad was a Changeling. My mum knew.
My dad had only raised me to be the heir, yet my mum sacrificed herself so the time would come later. Faintly, I noticed a mask be placed over my face, and darkness was all I could see.
"Ro."
Everything seemed to be in slow motion, with a soft, hazy glow. I couldn't feel the pain that had been inflicted on me. I was floating in the air, but when I looked down there was only the sky and clouds. I was dressed in a long, flowing white dress. My hair was out, and flowing softly behind me.
"Ro."
My head spun around. I recognised the voice. It was West. He was floating next to me, dressed only in a while cloak.
"West," I cried softly, drawing him in tight in a hug.
He pulled away, caressing my face gently. "Don't be sad."
His voice was gentle, musical. Still, tears welled in my eyes. My West.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" I sobbed into him, but he didn't become damp from my tears.
A small smile decorated his face. "It wasn't your fault. You were weakened, your magic unusable. Of course I don't blame you, Ro."
"You should," I said, not meeting his eyes. "You should hate me. I know you do."
Westley tilted my chin upwards so I was forced to look at him. "I could never hate you. You're my best friend, and you always will be. I love you so much, Ro."
"I love you too, West," I cried, still hugging him tight. "I will look after your family, I promise. I-I'll never forget you."
"I have to go," he murmured, "and you have to wake up. Goodbye, Romera Caster."
"Goodbye Westley Castle."
•.•.•
I was in a forest. I didn't recognise it, but the day was gentle around me. The sun was setting softly, with the sky bursting in different colours. I was still in the white dress, my feet bare. I walked through the trees, the forest around me staying silent and not reacting to my steps. A house showed up in the distance, and I recognised it as the house that West and I would go through to go into the Baniar Woods. It was the only house standing, and where the usual street was, remained a shadow.
I slowly made my way to the front door of the house, gripping the door handle. What would I find when I made my way inside? The door opened with a high-pitched creak. Inside, it was too dark to see much. I could make out the basic outline of the house and the objects inside, however. Instead of the usual empty state that the house stayed in, it was filled with basic household objects. Photos even lined the walls, and after closer inspection I noticed that they weren't just photos.
Each frame was filled with a moving scene, a memory. My memories. The first one had a younger version of myself sitting at a table and blowing out candles. The cake was in the shape of a number six. Westley was next to me, cheering me on with a crooked grin and a blue party hat on his head. Softly, I heard the birthday song being sung. Behind me, my mum stood with her arms slung over my shoulders, her smile bright. She was as beautiful as I remembered her. Pale skin, bright green eyed, and dark hair like my own. The memory restarted as soon as my mum placed a kiss on my cheek, and my face twisted up in response.
I moved to the second photograph, which showed Westley and I in the snow. We were sliding down a large hill that was just out of town, both dressed in our winter clothes. Our faces rosy and smiles warm, we sped down the hill and crashed into a mound of snow. I watched as a nine-year-old West laughed and pulled me to my feet too hard, making me stumble after him. I brought my hand up to the frame, touching West's frozen face with my hand.
Faintly, West squeaked a response. "That was amazing!" he called, and the younger Romera giggled in agreement.
The memory ended shortly after, and I strode to the next one. In the memory, I was twelve and standing beside West. It was my cousin's wedding, and I was dressed in a pale purple dress and stockings. Westley was next to me in a little suit, and my cousin Hanna was standing in her beautiful white gown. I remembered what had happened exactly, but the voices still began to play out.
"Is this your boyfriend?" Hanna teased, her hands on her slim hips.
A bright blush fell upon my cheeks, and West scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"No, Han! We're just friends," I assured her, and Westley nodded quickly in agreement.
She laughed gently, holding her hands up in innocence. "Okay, okay! I believe you."
I watched the younger Romera quickly excuse herself to the food table, and Hanna looked towards Westley. I sent a look back at Hanna and West, the latter of which listening to something Han had told him. My best friend nodded hastily, and I rolled my eyes, helping myself to more canapé.
I never found out what my cousin and told him, and I wasn't sure I ever would.
I made my way to the final photograph, and saw that it was from sophomore year. It was at the school dance, and I was in a knee-length white dress. There were silver crystals along the top of the dress, and there was a belt along the waist. I was in white heels, and remembered feeling the rush of the night. I had spent most of the night dancing, and was the happiest I had been for a long time. I was fifteen and joint at the hip with West.
I looked around the hall, where the dance had been set, and made eye-contact with Westley from across the room. I waved at him, and began walking over to him. He met me on the dancefloor, and I wrapped my arms around him. We swayed to the music, whispering words to eachother.
"We're dancing," I told him softly.
"We are," West confirmed, pulling me closer to him.
I laughed gently in the memory. "This is crazy."
"It is."
I remembered the rush of emotion I felt for Westley, the feelings that seemed to spark between us. The world seemed to disappear around us. But then the teachers called for the student's attention, and the moment finished, a ghost of a smile left on my face. I brought my hand up to the frame, and smiled softly at the memory.
I turned away from the photograph, finding a the staircase that led upwards. I ran my hand over the railing, slowly making my way upstairs. On the second-storey it was nearly empty, with only an empty hallway that led to a single door at the end. I walked cautiously to the door, opening it.
Inside, sitting on the bed, was a tall, skinny woman. She had the same eyes as myself, with the same dark hair. She looked similar to mum, but this woman's eyes were angled fiercely, and her face missed the gentleness that my mum had.
"So you're the little princess I've been hearing so much about," the woman said, her voice calm yet dangerous.
I frowned, closing the door behind me. "Who are you?"
She laughed, and I took a step towards her. "Don't you recognise me, dear? You are my heir afterall."
My eyes went wide with shock, and I staggered back. "Morgana."
She nodded, before letting out a sigh. "Ro, unfortunately I have been cast into this realm, never to see the day again. And that is where you come in, my dear. Because I can't escape, it is up to you to bring the Eternal Night!"
"Don't call me that," I hissed, "and I will never do what you want me to."
Morgana stood, and I saw she was wearing an old, red dress that seemed like it came out from the fourteenth century. Her eyes flashed with anger for a moment, before she calmed back down.
"You have no idea what is planned for you, my dear!" Morgana declared, throwing her arms in exaggeration. "You will lead the revolution! I did this! I used magic, magic that you will unlock and manipulate, to enter your consciousness! You will be able to do this, and more!"
I gave a sharp glare at the witch, "I will never. I don't need you, or anyone for that matter. You have gotten weak, but I have been training. Getting stronger."
Morgana laughed icily. "Go ahead, my dear, escape the prison I have placed you in!"
"Not until you tell me what you have planned!" I demanded.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Morgana sighed deeply. She waved her hand, making yellow magic dance around in her hand.
"Now that would be far too easy, dear. So show me, what can you do? Or would you rather I lock you in here, in this purgatory to atone for your sins, forever?" Morgana mocked. "It's not like you have much to live for, anyway. Westley Castle is dead, your mother is dead, and your father tortured you. Dear, you may as well-"
"Shut up!" I roared at her, "You don't know anything!"
A smirk fell upon her and Morgana took her seat on the bed once more. "Oh yes, I know all about your life. Your father never loved you, didn't he? And Westley. You just had to let him die. You know it was all your fault that he died, right?"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I screamed, not able to take her harsh words anymore.
Her eyes widened in exhilaration, and I saw my own eyes flashing dark blue with magic. My body floated off the ground, and I drew my hand back, ready to strike.
"And mummy never stuck around to help you, didn't she? Because you weren't strong enough to take on your future. She died protecting you, because you were too weak to do it yourself. You are weak!"
I had had enough. I threw my had forward, and a hard blast of dark blue magic struck Morgana. She let out a cry of pain and I watched her fall to her knees, but I wasn't finished. I struck her again, before focusing the magic to the roof. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but all of my logic had gone out the window. It was as if my body hd become possessed again.
The roof was struck open, but no debris was scattered around. A hole simply appeared. The dark blue light shot into the air, the rest of the house being filled with a blinding blast.
I growled an enchant, but I had no idea what I was actually saying. "Per taedio hora, per sanguinem et os." The light grew stronger as I continued. "Accumsan tua vincula et rescribo tuum futurum!"
My eyes snapped open.
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