Wake Up
Nixara hummed softly as she slowly lowered herself into the scalding hot water. This time of night the spring was at its warmest, inaccessible to all but the most heat resistant among the Bellevue. As usual; she had the place to herself.
It was cold out, snow covering every inch of the premises and smoke was slowly drifting off of the pool’s softly rippling water. It was still dark out, and the premises were mostly quiet. Behind her, she could spot two figures walking around and talking softly, laughing as they picked up some of the trash patrons had left behind outside. She wasn’t sure what Zack and Noah had done this time to be put on cleaning duty by Lydia, but she could venture a guess. Those two were always more interested in each other than in any work Lydia had picked for them. She waved at them as they walked by, but neither of them seemed to notice her; too busy with each other’s company.
She took a deep breath and lowered herself deeper into the water, feeling her aching muscles relax under the heat. She glanced down, still surprised to see strands of white hair as she glanced at her shoulders.
It had been almost six months since that night, but somehow she still hadn’t gotten used to her new reflection. Her hair, once so beautifully dark and purple, had turned a blinding shade of white. And her once so striking emerald eyes had turned utterly and completely black.
She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, feeling her muscles unclench. Her body was slowly starting to feel like her own again, though on cold days like these the bones they had broken still hurt more than she cared to admit. Her mind drifted back to the days she’d spent in between the waking world and the darkness.
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It had been hard to hear the voices through the haze. She was surrounded by smoke, suffocating in it time and time again and yet, somehow, the darkness wouldn’t overtake her. She was waiting for it, almost begging for it, until she saw his face again in the distance.
Alec.
She couldn’t give in just yet. He needed her.
Almost as much as she needed him.
Consciousness was brief and fleeting. All she’d remember afterwards were fragments. Intense light that seemed to burn directly into her eyes even though she was sure she kept them closed. Feeling the urge to shield her face with her hand, but her arm might as well have been made out of lead. Pits of pain in her back and legs that made her long for the darkness where there was nothing but smoke, heat and emptiness.
Her brother’s face, floating in front of her before disappearing in smoke. Red eyes, gazing at her, watching… waiting…
Lydia later told her it had taken the healers two weeks to properly set the broken bones and mend the skin as neatly as possible. But even their extensive experience couldn’t prevent some scars forming around her knee and collarbone. Apparently one of the healers had flat out refused to treat her - calling it a waste of resources. Zack later told her the man was lucky Lydia let him leave in one piece.
It had taken her another week to open her eyes for the first time, squinting against the brightness of the lights around her.
She still remembered how terrified she had been when she’d finally woken up to see a human woman with salt and pepper hair and piercing green eyes sitting on the edge of her bed. She was smiling, running a hand through her hair to tie it back. Small golden bracelets around her wrists jingled every time she moved. The sound was deafening.
She’d glanced to her sides, eager to find a way out, grabbing a pair of scissors from the nightstand and holding them in front of her, trying to disregard the beads of sweat running down her face as her hands quivered at the sheer exertion of holding up the instrument.
Lydia had been utterly unimpressed, smiling sweetly down ather. Her gaze never wavered and she made no attempt to move away as Nix’ fingers struggled to hold on to the scissors.
“Well… Good morning. You’re quite the fighter, you know that?” She cocked her head and smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Saraï is getting you something to eat, she should be back soon. Poor girl nearly shat herself when you suddenly groaned at her.” She chuckled, continuing on as if nothing was happening. “You might want to put the scissors away, darling. You’re still healing.”
She stood up, easily taking the scissors from Nix’ hands and ignoring the scathing looks she was getting.
“Rest up. Eat something. Drink. If you still feel like plunging those scissors into my chest a week from now, I might even let you try.”
Nix chuckled as she thought back to Lydia’s unperturbed reaction when she’d woken up. Few things seemed to bother that woman. Lydia acted like a woman who owned the place because, frankly, she did.
Nix had been wildly distrusting of her, hiding a bread knife in her breast band for weeks, ready to strike. But somehow she never had. Maybe deep down she knew Lydia would have easily seen it coming. Or maybe she somehow sensed that if this woman had wanted to kill her, she would have done so ages ago.
As soon as she was able to walk more than two steps, Lydia had taken her back to the place where it had all happened. The ride over was agony, every single bump in the road making her wince until eventually she passed out, but she had to know.
Had to see.
See if he was still there, maybe. If somehow, she’d burned him along with the rest of them.
But while they did find a couple of piles of bones at the scene, all of them looked to be from humans. She remembered six of them that night, but only three bodies littered the ground at the scene.
She could feel a stirring inside of her as that deep, dark voice spoke up again for the first time in months.
“THEY. SHALL. PERISH.”
She nodded to herself, putting her arms around Lydia and Noah as her vision got dark and she let them take her back to the cart where she blacked out again.
Neither of them had asked her about that day afterwards.
So far, neither of them had asked her about that day again.
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Light was slowly starting to appear in the sky above her, illuminating the fog around her.
Suddenly, a slender finger tapped her on the shoulder. Nix turned rapidly, magic sparking from her fingertips, ready to strike. A tall, red haired elf grinned and took a step back, holding his hands up in the air in front of him.
“Whoaaah, relax, Nix.” Zack grinned, shaking his head. “Guess you didn’t hear me comin’, hm?”
Nix swallowed hard, forcing herself to relax. “Deep in thought…” she muttered, turning around to face him. He was slowly rocking back and forth, as if always swaying to some rhythm only he could hear. His long hair was braided back on the sides, cascading down into a fiery waterfall at his back that reached all the way to his hips. He winked at her, eyes gliding over her body as she cocked her head to look at him. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
“Zack. Focus.”
A grin spread on his face, mirroring the one on her own. In the few months she’d gotten to know Zack, she’d quickly realized that he was mostly harmless. Mostly.
“Miss Lydia wants to speak with you.”
He crouched down, narrowing his eyes as a wicked smile spread across his face. “Pretty sure I saw Miss Len with her, too. You’re in luck.”
“Who?”
“Ah, I see you haven’t had the pleasure… Well, you’ll find out soon enough. Guess Miss Lydia is ready to let you join. Or she’s just eager for you to get a good-”
“Zack! Stop pestering Nixara and come help me unload these boxes!”
Noah stood at the other side of the field, carrying large wooden crates out of the cart that had just arrived.
Zack raised an eyebrow at Nix and smiled. “Saved by the orc. Best dry off. Miss Lydia doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Grinning, he turned his attention to Noah. “Listen, man, you do know there are other ways I can help you take a load off, right?”
Nix watched them leave, a smile on her face. She hadn’t gotten close to a lot of people here but both Zack and Noah had been so disarming that she’d found it impossible to ignore them like she did the rest.
Begrudgingly, she got up; shivering as the cold air hit her warm skin, watching as the steam rose off of her in smoke like tendrils.
She hadn’t heard from that voice since her last visit to the scene, now months ago. She knew that was probably a blessing, but some deep part of her was wishing for that voice back. For that strength back. She craved it, desperately needed something, someone to tell her that all was not lost. That she was powerful enough to do what had to be done in the end: to find her brother and bring him home safe.
For now, though, all of that would have to wait. Lydia mustn’t be kept waiting.