Wax Wings
Her words, like her outstretched hand, reached no one.
Suletta lied in an unfamiliar setting that did not fit the current weather conditions. Her blue eyes gave a vacant stare, almost as if the person behind them had moved out. She laid in her bed of hay that resided in the corner of a comfortably-sized room, fit with all the necessary tools and minimal comforts that one would need to survive. Diagonal from her bed was the kitchen. Rough and unlabeled jars of ingredients decorated the kitchen shelves, dried herbs hung from the bottom. Kettles and cooking utensils decorated every other surface besides the dining table. Set up on the small square table was two plates, each fitted with a cloth and fork. Between the two plates laid a crude unsweetened pie. Though rough in some areas, it was clearly made with love. Across the room the dining set was the only window the house had. To make up it, it was quite wide and peered into the unpaved street. Though imprints from the wheels of carriages and evidence of humans were apparent on the dirt, no life was to be found. Sunlight streamed through the window and the chirping of birds came from outside the walls. Of course, they weren't real. From the songs of the birds to the awaiting pie, nothing was of substance.
She once viewed these walls with great comfort, a place of security from the unpredictable world that lied beyond the wooden confines. But, inevitably, it became her prison. A constant reminder of her bloodlessness. This was no longer a home, but a mockery. Suletta had long accepted the truth of this place and had raked her memory for somewhere she would rather spend eternity. Nothing else came to mind. In her initial few months as a genie (or, at least, she imagined to be months) she often waited at the door for her mother and stared out the window to the street in hope of rescue. The lantern had its limits. Human life was too much to recreate. Even if someone tried to spend a wish on raising the dead or animating a person, such a complex system could not be recreated. Not that it was hard to create a human body, rather the soul was irreplaceable.
All Suletta had to know of the outside world was her previous life and what she had witnessed with Miorine. "Miorine..." She repeated to herself, clutching a hand to her chest. Guilt poisoned the mind, another curse suffered by the child. "It's... my fault." Echoed her mind. She granted her wish. It her action to not tell Miorine what would come. She understood Miorine refused to hear her, but regardless, she punished herself with no remorse. She thought it was obvious she deserved this fate. After all, no one came after her. No one, not even her own mother. Her vision obscured as she felt the streams of tears fall down her cheeks. The sensation of the tears and her emotions might be her only remaining connection to the race of the living.
The image of Miorine's back turned to her flashed in her mind. "Wait for me." These simple, few words resonated within her heart. No amount of self-deprecation or anguish could erase the fact those words were spoken to her. No argument in her thick skull could take away the feeling she felt after hearing Miorine say that. Like a child with their favorite teddy bear, Suletta clung to those words like her life depended on it. Surely, her heart did.
Revitalized by the memory of the white-haired girl's command, Suletta gave a weak smile, closing her eyes and leaning into her bed. "I'll wait. I'll always wait for you."
The sound of the violent winds were muted by the thick, well-crafted walls of the mansion. The only indication a storm was occurring was the towering window Miorine sat before. An endless grey landscape, enveloping any semblance of a world beyond her house. She hated it. The emptiness of the world before her and the emptiness of the building. Built purely for show and luxury, but missing the comfort of what makes a home a home.
Her lady in waiting noticed the creasing of her eyebrows. "Ah, my lady. That look doesn't befit a bride-to-be. I can pull the curtains, if you wish." Miorine shook her head, looking down. Her maid continued to brush her long white hair. Her marriage. To create an incentive for political and economical gain, her previously royal father used Miorine as a pawn. Whichever company first gave 50% stake to him would have their son wed her daughter. "I apologize that you feel this way, my gracious. But this is how life goes for a woman like you." Yeah, a piece of property. She knew her maid was trying to comfort her, but nothing no amount of solace would free her from this dreadful married. Of course, the most annoying jackass had to be her husband. Guel Jeturk, son of Vim Jeturk, head of one of the three major noble families.
"I'm no longer a princess, but father is certainly still a royal asshole." The attendant shook her head, unwilling to fight Miorine so late in the night.
Miorine shook off thoughts of the meathead. She found her mind wandering off to Suletta. She knew she hurt her and was too cowardly to face her. Looking back out to the horrid weather, she considered of how Suletta was doing. Certainly she was back in the lantern. Maybe, she thought, it would be best to leave her alone. After all, what bound us together were the wishes. Right? Something shifted in her heart, as if someone had stabbed her with a cold blade. Once she had no more wishes, Suletta would be gone. She'd become someone else's genie and live an eternity at the whim of others, a simple tool to be used for gain. Before a drop could hit the floor, Miorine was on her feet.
"My lady..." Her voice faded out, words falling on deaf ears. Miorine could not sit idle to the same suffering she had to face. She grabbed her cloak and sprinted out the door of her room.
Strong gales whipped at her small body, setting Miorine off-balance and tumbling into snow. Without missing a beat, she got up and increased her pace. The streets were empty, townsfolk hunkering down for the night, not daring to brave such a storm. Light shone from most of the wooden buildings, illuminating the path ahead of her. All guiding light ceased as she turned down an alley, but what greeted her was a different sight. Smoke and the smell of a burning campfire. She began to sprint, following the path she always took to get to the shop. The smell of smoke only got stronger.
Standing in front of the blazing inferno that consumed the whole block, Miorine watched the shop collapse.