horology | the darkling

the end of an era

do I wanna know - arctic monkeys

are there some aces up your sleeve?
have you no idea that you're in deep?
i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week
how many secrets can you keep?

/

'Time makes a coward's decisions for her' - brent weeks

-

seraphina

Grief was the ocean and Seraphina was drowning. 

She was smirking when the General fled; she had expected him to. Her magic was twisting his mind, seizing control of reality and manipulating his psyche. She almost laughed when he started to walk away; what had she expected? Seraphina definitely didn't expect love.

It was just pitiful when he broke into a run.

She waited for him to disappear around the corner until she started to follow. Seraphina knew that the most dangerous thing was to hit a man when he was down. There was a saying; never corner a frightened dog because it will always fight to the death. Wise philosophy that. So she crossed her hands behind her back and enjoyed the view as she started to close in on the turning point in her life.

She smelt it before she saw it. Thick, tangy, sharp, metallic. There was one thing in the world that bore that signature scent. A sudden anxiety threatened to spill out of her. She hoped it was just the cooks, back from slaughtering, the smell of blood lingering on their bloody boots. Innocent animals were slaughtered for food all the time; if she couldn't save them, it was a waste of time to care.

Seraphina stopped dead in her track as the horror of her thought settled in. That was a terrible thought. She had reinforced in her mind that it was alright to kill and a waste of time to have mercy. That wasn't her. She was kind, she cared for the birds that fell from trees, the horses her father brought home from battle, injured and afraid. She had healed them, wrapping bandages around their slim ankles, touching their long faces and whispering to them that it would be alright. The pain would go away.

That was the old Seraphina. The new Seraphina neglected kindness.

She had been too obsessive about herself. Indulging in the new life, her new position and the General. She had forgotten to care. She thought about Konstantin, her best friend. One of her few friends. She had never bothered to even meet new people or socialise. Seraphina had forgotten about him completely; she was supposed to look after him. He genuinely cared about her. She was supposed to be protecting him from himself, from Irina, from those who looked down on him for being too good-hearted to stand up for herself.

She was lost in thought as her nose followed the scent of the blood like a wolf. The Darkling's room was lacking a door. The illusion he put in place was very convincing, she could give him that, but it wasn't enough to fool her. She knew illusions too well; she had been living one her whole life.

Her hand completely disappeared into the dark of the shadows. Seraphina moved her hand, invisible. At least it was still connected to her arm. That meant the shadows weren't dangerous. Taking a deep breath, Seraphina crossed the barrier into a sight that would broken and build her.

Seraphina put her foot down in blood. The stickiness clung to the bottom of her leather boots. She gasped, horror stricken by the feeling and stepped back, almost tripping over the body. It was pitch black, the curtains had been drawn. Black velvet hung between the outside world and the coffin that she was in. Hands shot out and steadied her. Seraphina gave a quiet scream of surprise and she instinctively kicked backwards. The heels of her foot came into contact with bone. A string of curse words were heard, Seraphina calmed down at the familiar voice but the uneasiness lingered on in her heart like a sour aftertaste.