Part 5.1

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A YEAR BEFORE THE DARK AGES
BETHANY

Bethany's eyes were opalescent with sorrow. "I did it again, Onyx. I don't know why I am like this."

Onyx let the singing mushroom drop from his mouth mid-chew. It hit the ground of the Forest of Sorrows with an annoyed ding.

We are as we are, the cat said, simply but earnestly. You cannot change the stars in your soul. But the stars of your destiny, I do believe, are yours to wield.

Bethany drew her feet up to her chest. "Mama was right. I was being silly. I don't know why I get so afraid sometimes, Onyx. I never mean to. It just...comes upon me. It pounds in my chest and spins around in my head. It is as if the fear is trying to blaze its way out of me, but it's stuck inside me."

Bethany struggled to explain it to her only friend. The fear came from her, but it was not a part of her. She hated it as much as Mama hated her for it.

Perhaps you could write a story about it.

Writing stories helped. Paper embraced her emotions in a way people never could. Perhaps she would write a story, but not today.

Mama was in a right state today. Her plans were ruined.

Bethany sighed, running a hand through her auburn curls. Mama wanted to arrange a match between Bethany and the tailor's son, Mard. It was an advantageous match because the tailor's family lived well, and she and Mama were poor. They were in a pickle now especially, as Bethany was no longer employed.

"What are we going to do?" Mama had wailed. "The bread won't magic itself onto the table. He wasn't your brother. He wasn't your son. You were only his servant."

It was true, all that Mama said. But Bethany couldn't go back to Tyfyr House, not after what happened to her little jigsaw boy. Her throat clamped shut at the very thought of the place. He was not her brother, he was not her son, but she loved him all the same.

Mama, being Mama, devised a new plan. It hinged on Bethany charming her way into Mard's heart.

Bethany practised in front of a mirror for weeks before the party, so she'd know what to say and how to act. She thought she was all set. But she was wrong. When Mama's party was in full swing, Mard had approached her with a timid smile on his lips.

And Bethany's throat had clamped up. Her fingers had buzzed with fear. She hadn't charmed her way into Mard's heart. She'd fumbled and stumbled and trembled, as she always did.

Bethany fiddled with Onyx's tail as the cat meowed his disapproval. "I can't do much right," she said. "I really am a burden on Mama. Only pain ever comes from me, Onyx. Perhaps I am a wicked thing."

Onyx nuzzled her cheek, meowing softly. The singing mushroom he'd dropped dinged a melody over his paws. You are not wicked, he said. That I know. There is not a wicked thing about you.

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