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Whether it had been three days or four, it didn’t matter; Nox didn’t come back to see me. Neither did Naylor nor his three buddies. Cameron and Justin were the only ones I’d seen. They’d take me to eat and to training days. Thad I saw briefly when he came to talk to Cameron about something, but he didn’t stay around either. I felt dejected.
During the times they were busy, I raided the library for books on anything and everything about Lydents and the royal attack, which wasn’t much. The books there were for fighting techniques and the art of being a warrior. Everything else was rules, regulations, and laws. One of which offended me.
Rule 136-A: To preserve our kind and the lights we carry within us, no Lydent female may mate outside the Lydent race.
Talk about the dark ages. I still took the book for studying. Didn’t want to be beheaded for drooling over the three hot Chrises that filled Hollywood with envy. Yummy.
Even though the days blurred together, I hadn’t become sick besides the nagging headache that wouldn’t leave me alone. Nightmares still plagued my sleep, but this morning was when the ball finally smashed the dick.
I grew worse.
Dizzy spells and the chills started in the middle of the night, and I woke up this morning feeling miserable. When I felt like I couldn't handle it anymore, I scrambled out of the cocoon of my bathtub to retch in the toilet. I was dizzy. My head swam and the chills that wracked my body were overpowering. I had a vague impression that this might have been what the other woman who turned Lydent must have felt when she grew sick. If only I’d known the headache was a warning sign.
I made my way out of the bathroom and left my room to find someone to help me. I hoped I could keep all the contents in my stomach as I went through the hall toward the stairs. Stomping down the stairs, I cursed everyone I knew—Lydent and human—for the situation I was in.
It wasn't fair. I was better than this. How stupid was I? Thinking I had been invincible. That I was the best of the best. And now I was a pane of glass teetering on the edge of shattering. This whole Lydent thing was beyond me. Why in the hell did I even do it? I could have called Hannah right off the bat when I thought things were fishy, but no, I had to go sleuthing. And look where that led me. My death.
I stumbled down the bottom step and decided to take my pitiful dying self over to the general’s office, since no one seemed to be around. Not like I had a cellphone to call for help. It was like they’d cursed me. No cell phone, no internet (except they had internet they just weren't willing to share), stuck here with a fate that was forthcoming—it sucked.
I was possibly going to die from it. I hoped my family wouldn't think less of me. That Justin might implant something in their minds to know I went peacefully even though the pain sucked.
I closed my eyes to ward off the dizziness, thinking I could navigate better without things swimming around me. It worked for a little while, until I fuckin’ fell.
I curled into myself on a groan, praying the pain would go away.
“Tracy?” It was a vaguely familiar voice. "Shit." Footsteps hurried over to me and strong arms curled under my fallen frame to lift me. A moan of pain escaped. It was as if shards of glass were pressing into each one of my joints, tearing at every movement. I wanted to stay still. He shimmed us somewhere, reassuring me the whole way. “Don't worry, you're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine, you’ll see.”
I felt like I had the flu combined with something else unworldly, at least it seemed that way. But all sicknesses were unworldly. Not normal.
I let out a little chuckle at my delusional thought process. It wasn't normal. I wasn’t either, so I guess I deserved this.
Each step the man took was fuckin’ torture on my body until he paused and laid me down on cool sheets that caused me to shiver. A washcloth pressed against my forehead, even though the chills had started, and I moaned, moving away from the touch.
A voice soothed and silenced me. “It's okay. You will be okay.”
I tried to curl back into myself, but my body wouldn't move. Despite my eyes still being closed, they scrunched when a bright light filtered through them. More voices came, some that were the guys and others I couldn't distinguish.
After a moment, I felt a pinch in my arm and slipped into a darkness of pain.
In the dark, I heard another voice. “Child, fate did not anticipate you...”
Warmth that flowed into my bones had my pain easing, and the blackness that enveloped me lightened.
“...but no matter. You will create waves in the Lydent world.”
After that, the darkness diminished, and I was standing in a never-ending white room with picture frames hanging on the wall. It looked like an art museum... except there were moss curtains that framed a window showing clouds floating outside. My bare feet sank into loose softness, and I peered down to discover a white, powdery substance on the floor. I hoped it wasn’t some drug.
A flutter of gray at my ankles caught my attention, and I realized it was the edge of a gray dress that I now wore. When did that happen? I wasn't sure if the color was to mimic the light within my soul or if it was just what everyone wore when they arrived at this place.
And for that matter, what was this place? Was I dead? Or was it a figment of my imagination?
With the pain gone and my head clear, I pondered the voice I’d heard. I didn't know who had spoken. This place I was in seemed to be a waiting room. For what, I wasn't sure.
Being the sleuth, I decided I was done waiting. I gently took a step forward, testing the floor to see if maybe I would fall through—hey, it could happen. I didn't know what hid in the sand, but it seemed sturdy enough. Curiosity took hold of me as I walked over to the window.
Peering out of the window, white fluffy clouds went on for miles with vines hanging from higher than I could see. They cut through the clouds, most likely going even further. I wasn't certain what the vines represented or if they even represented anything, but they were there.
I stepped away from the window and went toward the picture frames on the wall. Surprisingly, the first one was of Hannah and I together. We were at school. It was the first day we met. She needed a pencil; I shared mine.
My hand rose to touch the picture but drew back, unsure if I should touch it or not. I left that photo and went onto the next. It was Hannah and I once again, but this time we were older. We had been drinking. Her mother had died. The crushing guilt rode me hard. I didn’t like seeing these photos and what they represented. Me, as an unhealthy influence on her. I turned away and moved on to the next photo. Again, it was of Hannah, now sick because of me. Because of what I had encouraged her to do. And from then on, all I could do was to try and bring her back from her demise. Her thrills. From her wanting to kill herself.
I moved to the next photo, but it wasn't of my life; it was of a dream I’d had.
Four symbols. One stood out from the rest with three others surrounding it. They circled around the center one until it burst into bright, twinkling stardust that slowly filtered to the ground. That symbol was a circle of braids with three tail ends left open in the center. It was one I’d never forget.
When I woke up, I didn't go back to sleep, but stayed up for hours recreating the symbol I’d dreamed about. I worked for hours on the drawing until it was perfection. When Hannah received her tattoo, which I don't even know how she did it, I decided to get one too. To take the same pain she gave herself. I would not let her suffer alone. The dream called to me and it seemed fitting. To get the tattoo, I had made a fake ID. Then I found a tattoo shop downtown and asked the tattoo artist to etch it into my skin. It hurt like a bitch for a bit but eased after awhile.
That symbol was now on my hip, and soon after, the other tats followed on my arms. The last one, which was not done by me but sheer Lydent will, was on the bottom of my foot. It was one that looked a lot like Hannah's in terms of color. It was silvery white and unlike anything I'd ever seen.
My eyebrows rose. Was Hannah...?
“Do you know what that dream was about, child?”
That voice had me jumping and whirling around. A cloak made of leaves and an old weathered face greeted me even though she was shadowed by the hood.
My head tilted to the side as I took her in. “The dream in the picture frame?”
She gave a nod. “Yes.”
“It was a dream about guilt and what I could do to make myself feel better,” I told her bitterly.
I glanced past her to find out where she’d come in but didn’t find an opening. My gaze returned to her. “Why am I here? And what is this place?”
She smiled and with a wave of her hand, a lounge chase appeared in the middle of the room. She sat down and patted the seat beside her. “Come. Sit. Let me explain to you why you’re here and what you need to do.”
Wary of her, I shook my head and remained standing. “I'm fine right where I am, but I'm willing to humor you by listening to what you have to say.”
She chuckled and drew back her hood. As she did that, her whole appearance transformed from one of an old lady, to a beautiful young woman.
Her sky-blue eyes stared back at me while her lips curved a gentle smile. “I know you, Tracy Dolton.” She tilted her head to the side like I had before. “You have a good heart, a fierce love for those who you consider family or friends, and curiosity,” she said with a nod, “...that can only be revered by the feline species of a cat.”
I snorted, turning away from her gaze and looking at the never-ending hallway before turning back to her. “Are you talking about curiosity and the cat? You know how that ends.”
She gave an angelic laugh. “Oh no. Cats are curious, yes, but their curiosity didn't kill them. It was simply where they put their curiosity that did them in. They lacked understanding when their curiosity turned into an obsession. Sometimes you need to understand when things are to be left alone.” She pointed a finger at me. “And you, child, are curious.”
I waved her off. “So, enough with the riddles, tell me what I need to know. I'm assuming you're, like, a fuckin’ Lydent rite of passage I have to go through?”
She shook her head. “I am not Lydent, but I am a Goddess of the Lydents’. Whether you like it or not, my dear, a light does glow within you.”
“Yeah, one that’s gray,” I scoffed.
“True, it may not be as pure as others, but I am here to tell you how to overcome the darkness inside you so you can become whole.”
I twitched, unsure if I could trust her. “So, you will help me get rid of Ivan's gray light?”
Her smile dimmed. “Tracy, it is true that you have gained some of Ivan's talents, maybe even a bit more than that. But when a light goes into a body, it becomes pure again. The gray light that lives within you now, it's yours. Your light is gray.”
My throat caught with denial and my heart squeezed. She was wrong. She had to be.
The Goddess started to fade. “Rid yourself of your guilt, Tracy. Only then can your light shine bright. I will see you again, Valedora.”
The room dimmed, and everything went black again. What did she call me?