She Felt the Flowers Bloom
Warning: Mentions of abuse, magically induced Stockholm syndrome
Kyra tugged her cardigan close. Her blonde hair was tied up into a messy bun, sleep clouded her eyes and a tug in her heart led her to his door. It was closed, but she knew it was unlocked. He never locked his door. Quiet as she could, Kyra crept through his room. Over the red string, clothes, notebooks and paper sprawled about. He slept on a futon, three sheets sprawled about. Stifling a yawn, she crept beneath the sheets and shuffled close to him. He was asleep but let out faint murmurs and yelps. Without his glasses and his blonde hair askew, Kyra felt a part of her miss him. At least, this version of him. The kind that was sleeping peacefully with a few whimpers every now and then. But here his glasses and his mask were put away in the place of sleep. His whimpers grew louder, so she curled in closer into the crook of his neck. She hoped to lend her warmth to his. Saul. You never told me what happened. All you ever did was…want Ava and spend ever other moment lost in study and your own cold depths. Knowing sleep would not come, Kyra made the mistake of letting her mind wander. There was a question that had been gnawing at the back of her mind ever since she’d killed Ava. Do I have any…regrets? Do I regret Ava dying, or do I regret killing her? Kyra traced a finger over her chest. For a moment she dared to reach inside her heart and search for something. Anything, any shard of regret for what she’d done.
She knew that Saul’s heart had broken. She had seen it in his eyes. She’d seen the shards in his grey eyes and felt them with every punch he’d delivered across her face. Again, Kyra couldn’t find anything. No matter how hard she searched. She couldn’t find the same heart of his that she’d known when they first met four years ago. Like all parents with enough Dreccs, Kyra’s had sent her away to Valyrdonn to study at the Crone’s academy. To learn and meditate at what was commonly appreciated as the spiritual heart of the country. Far away from her home on the coastal city of Kaeldir, she felt more and more lonely with every kilometre between her and her family. But when the bus arrived at the park outside the apartment complex, Kyra only saw other lonely kids. They tugged awkwardly at their new uniforms, their red blazers making them stand out amongst the glowing imps darting about the park grounds. They were short and monkey-like, their ears long and flickering as their tails. Transparent as they were, they snickered as the creatures dared to climb about the students. Spirits behaved differently everywhere, which explained the jaunty, uncomfortable reaction some of the kids had to the overt friendliness of the spirits here. 443Please respect copyright.PENANA3UydrGjt28
Acting as confident as she could, Kyra had stepped off of the bus with all that was precious to her in the bag on her back. Orientation was set to start in half an hour, all she had to do was evade the weird imps or do anything stupid in front of the other prisoners of education. Despite the confident façade she walked about with, Kyra drew the sleeves of her red blazer up to hide the black markings. Some Soul-Marks were evident, but it was regarded as unsociable to display them in public. After all, their purpose was to defend against unsociable spirits. Not that was seen as any kind of appropriate conversation. Considering her teacher was to be a spirit, it would be a sin to do such a horrid thing as to show her Mark. But unlike most, her Torus stretched over most of her body. From the base of her neck, down her spine, around her left hip and right down her leg to the ankle. It made choosing her clothing a little difficult, to say the least. So stockings, high-ankle dress shoes, a blazer one size two large, but a skirt that sat at a length she (and the students around her) could agree with. Sitting happily on a park seat beneath an oak, Kyra played about with zippers on her backpack rested on her lap. She knew the way boys looked at her, she knew how their eyes wandered. But where her skirt rested was not something she did for them. She wore it because the new-born summer winds made her prison of clothes more uncomfortable than it already was, she enjoyed how she looked when she happened to pass a vague reflection of herself and she got to wear a piece of clothing that would utterly annoy her mother.
“Is that…a river-wan braid?” A soft voice asked. Her hand instantly going to clutch her braid, Kyra looked up to the young girl before her. She had a sweet smile. Freckles and hair the same colour of the oak trunks and eyes the same hazel of the summer breeze washing over them. The same wind causing an itch beneath Kyra’s stockings. “Uh, yeah it is. My nan taught it to me because me mum couldn’t ever get it right,” She half-laughed. “It’s gorgeous!” The girl exclaimed, her smile glowing as she sat beside Kyra. She wore a braid too, a messier, looser braid rested over her shoulder, but she couldn’t help but admit how nice it looked regardless. “So, you must be from the coast, right? I think I have a cousin that works as a jeweller out by the Morridan Port. I’ve never been there myself though.”
“Yeah I’m one of the Lyn’s. Kyra Lyn, by the way. My family has a Whaling business, so they supply a number of other industries. In the sense of things like bones for anti-Warlock wards, scales for shields and armour for the local military services and so on.”And now I’ll probably smell of money and fish forever. With every mention of her family, Kyra made sure to bite back any words that would include herself with their business. Not because she hated the smell of the ocean, but because it was rude to insinuate that she had any credit for their hunting empire. Of course, reciting their way of life and the foundations of their fortune to any stranger with a hint of money power was just as important. I can’t quite tell with this girl. No noticeable traits, insignia’s or style about her that tells me anything of her pedigree. Then again, she recognized my braid without ever having been to Kaeldir. She must be well-read or just well-taught. Worldly without ever having been out in the world. 443Please respect copyright.PENANA60WS8E5I2r
The girl laughed at herself, having realised she hadn’t even given her name. “I’m Ava. Ava Mont,” She said, extending a hand. Kyra shook it, refusing to show how taken aback she felt at how…charismatic this girl was. “I’m uh, old money, I guess you could say,” Ava said as she jumped up, her duffel bag jumping with her. “You know we’ve got ages to go until orientation starts. And I happen to know an ice cream stall just around the corner with the best honey-waffle cones.” After a moment of hesitation, Kyra accepted. Together, they made their way to the stall owned by a kindly old man got a strawberry and macadamia mix ice-cream and honey waffle chip pot to share. Finding a particularly nice bit of shade to rest in, the two enjoyed their ice-cream. While they did so, Ava mentioned how lonely she’d also felt when she first arrived three weeks ago, but she’d managed to make one other friend at a café she’d been frequenting. According to Ava, he was quite funny, even charming in a sly sort of way. But after a couple of coffees she’d found she very much enjoyed his company. Taking a bite of the sweet, sweet ice-cream, Kyra had asked his name.
“Saul?” Kyra murmured, pressing her fingertips against his cold chest as it rose and fall, ever so gently. He’d begun to cry, his tears falling from his cheeks and soaking his pillow as his breathing hitched. Without a word his own sobs awoke him and he curled a hand beneath her bruised neck, gentle as he could. “Kyra…” he said softly, trying to wipe his eyes clear. With the tips of his fingers, Saul traced her bruises and marks over her skin, even the marks that he had not made himself and whimpered. “You’re so beautiful…and I’m sorry, I’m sorry you have to hide your beautiful self with glamour like that because of me, because of what I did.” Kyra felt her heart flutter as he curled into her chest and he nestled himself into the crook of her neck. Her own eyes welling, she gripped the collars of his shirt and pressed her nose into his sweet-smelling hair that without wax had splayed into blonde curls. She enjoyed this warmth he offered, no matter how brief it might be or why he was acting like this. Kyra Lyn had given up on asking why Saul did what he did a long time ago. And yet she still couldn’t help but wonder, where his laughter, his happiness, just where it was his heart had gone.
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