𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

13-The Indecipherable Signs Addressed to Her; Bonus Chapter

AN: this is a short bonus chapter. I had a lot of school work this week, and I am currently working on a longer chapter. But, I felt bad about going a week without uploading, besides, it was stress-relieving for me... The next chapter might be up in a couple of days- Although, I am not promising anything. Furthermore, this chapter is to clear up any questions about Cordelia in a sort of story telling way. Anyway.. Enjoy! (also, this chapter doesn't really follow a time line- meaning that it could be before or after she met Draco, but it is in 6th year)

The first and only memory of her was when I was I don't know what age, but I know I was young in my years. I remember her and me swimming beyond the coral reef, laughing and giggling at the sights we'd find. We'd hunt and search for pearls like our lives depended on it. We played together. Whoever was to find the prettiest of buried treasures would win. What prize? That, I cant recall clearly- I do recall her letting me win, as I also recollect always triumphing. She would let me win to see that dwindling spark glow rapidly in my eyes. It brought her peace, it brought me happiness, we were content together, at least, that's what I remember 

I have no memory before or after that of her-I may have when I was younger. If I did, too much of time has passed for me to recall them, they have already slipped through my fingers; I was (and still am) raised by the sirens- No, I was not raised by them. I was never taught good manners, proper etiquette, I was never taught to confine my voice when speaking to someone respectfully, or to give more than take, or to be kind to another- I was taught to discipline, I was taught to become a mere servant to them

I, after 15 long, extended years of living, still do not know why or how I ended up here. The first time I asked, I was seven; I received a harsh slap on the right side of my cheek. Without learning my lesson, the last, I was bound to the dock (that was my very first time of many times getting tied up to the dock), exposed completely.

I had learned to never speak or ask a word of my history. But, that did not stop me from collecting those personal details about myself on my own; For I had learned that every April, particularly the nineteenth of it, I would turn a year older. Or so, I am so sure of to think  

How did I know this? You might ask. I heard a whisper. It was so faint, and so so still, not even an elephant with large ears could hear it, but I did. And I will swear with everything I own that I hear that voiceless murmur every April. The voice would whisper my name

'Cordelia' It whispered 'Cordelia,'

Each year that would pass, the whisper would become more, not only with its words but with its volume; The voice had been a silk blanket, so soft, so wise, you would cradle a baby in it. The voice felt like the home I could never claim

Besides the voice, a radiant glow would pass by me, my tail specifically. My fins would grow an inch just that night, it was too much to be a coincidence. I am just so sure of it

It wasn't like I celebrated my birthday with balloons and friends- For I had none. I would commemorate this special occasion by wearing my preferred jewels, by staying up just a little late or waking up early to watch the sunrise out of its slumber. It was a beautiful sight, more than I could ever ask for

Disregarding everything I had just mentioned-I wish to see her again. She is a sight I could only dream of. I do not remember her appearance. All memories looked like they were viewed through fogged-up windshield glass, but I felt every emotion as clear as day. I imagined her to be very beautiful. I imagined her hair to be like mine (except it was impeccable and no strand was loose) would reach her ribs, covering her bare chest. I imagined her face was beautifully carved by an architect. I imagined her eyes were of aureate gilt. I imagined she would carry a bright smile with her, everywhere she went. Her smile would be a contagious plague, infectious to even the worst of us. Of course, this was all up to my interpretation. I had and still have no clue who she is and what she might be like. For all I know, she could be just as horrid as the Sirens, she could be even worse. But this was the only part of me I had control over, and I felt a sense of capability with that.

I had never imagined what my father would look like; I did not want to. My mind would always block itself from even going there, it was a closed road, a locked door with a thrown away key. Thinking about who and what my father would be brought me a hunch of pique and indignation. I did not know why the thought of a father brought me to this rage. My eyes would glaze and my brows would furrow. My ears would ring in annoyance and my palms would subconsciously fist the boiling gore inside me

I would let go of that anger, toss it to the side. I did not have much dignity for myself. I had always been slandered by those near me. Nevertheless, I wouldn't let fury get the best of me.

'It was not a game between yourself, it was between you and anger, and anger would never let you win' The same sleek, sagacious voice would whisper that to me, this time so much more pleading- as if it were begging me not to follow this path. And I listened

Maybe I spent too long with time spent alone, maybe I am but as daft as a brush. But I knew these weren't illusions; These were not tricks my subconscious would play on me because it was bored. No one was playing a game- These adjures were not games. They were calls, calling for me- And one day, even if I am nothing but skin and weak bones, I fully intend to find out what these indecipherable signs truly uncover