do you know who you are?

752 27 0
                                    

princess doesn't cry - aviva mongillo

a princess doesn't cry 
burning like a fire
you feel it all the time
but wipe your teary eyes

/

'we don't even ask for happiness, just a little less pain' - Charles bukowski

-

seraphi

Seraphina did not spend the night.

She couldn't deny that she wanted to but she pulled herself from his intoxicating grasp and hurried out without a lot of dignity as she hurried past Ivan, frozen in spot. Seraphina quickly concentrated her powers and the alabaster feather hovered back onto the floor and time resumed its pace. Seraphina felt her heart hammering with the unexpected sensation of attraction as she sped walked past a confused Ivan who would probably be confused for the next few days. She was quite a distance along the hall when she heard Ivan's muddled shouting. Despite her raging feeling of disorientation, she managed a smirk. In the distance, she heard the opening and closing of a door.

The creamy white and gold door that led to her room was slightly ajar. It wasn't opened when she left. With blood, adrenaline and timely magic coursing through her veins, she slowly pushed the door open. It made a soft creak, like the whine of an injured animal. The room was dark; no sign of another living being. Yet there was something about the room that concealed a mystery. Seraphina was cautious but she was prone to loosing herself in her worries. She found herself doing exactly that, thoughts drifting away into the possibility that someone had been sent to murder her or kidnap her. If she was caught, she could be sent to Fjerda to die as a witch or to Shu Han, to be experimented on. Neither of the thoughts sounded appealing.

Seraphina wished she had a weapon. Even if she could slow down time, it would be nice to have some physical defence. She creeped into the room on the tips of her feet, barely making a sound as she pointed her way across the cold marble floor. Years of ballet finally paid off. Shame it was for the wrong reason.

A crack of thunder whipped though the night sky, the sound rumbled overhead of the building. It was approaching much faster than Seraphina had anticipated.

Outside, Seraphina heard a commotion. She could hear the harsh thud of boots on the corridors and the distinct voices of shouting. Obviously, the lightning had struck something important. The alarmed neighing of horses and the sharp sound of wood splintering gave Serphina confidence that she wasn't going to be the busiest person tonight.

Serphina's insomnia was acting up again tonight. She wasn't particularly surprise, she had been under a lot of stress lately and it wasn't from missed archery lessons.

The thought that she could be exposed, be named a fraud, people finding about what she could actually do terrified her. The limitations of her powers were decreasing, she was simultaneously more powerful and losing control. She felt it in the ballroom, her grasp on time had almost slipped though her fingers like a knife slipping through the clenched fist of a murderer. The obscene and absurd voices swimming around in her head were loud; they were all screaming out one thing that pierce though her mind. You can't trust anybody.

Seraphina stepped out of her dark room, lost in her thoughts. Her felt felt strange and solid against the smooth floors; slick but harsh. The corridor was eerily empty; there was no sign of life.

The night sky was a plethora black, stars and clouds. Seraphina could see each individual speck of light dance through the lazy haze of the sky and she let her mind call out to Time.

Time appeared to Serphina in her mind. The goddess sat upon a throne made of shadowy bones and looked down on her, looking bored and disgusted. Her arms were crossed around her cosmic body and she looked down on Seraphina like she had disappointed her.

horology | the darklingWhere stories live. Discover now