CATHARSIS, jason grace¹

𝟬𝟭𝟵. madwoman

AERA'S FAVORITE PART OF SHOPPING was the girl talk. After some browsing, she had finally changed out of Piper's hideous sweatpants and into what she liked to call an all-white "winter fairy outfit", consisting of an oversized snow jacket, a knitted mini dress underneath, fluffy leg warmers, and knee-high snow boots. For accessories, Aera had found an adorable pair of earmuffs and a classic tweed Chanel bag near the counter where they sold deadly poisons, toxic concoctions, and other cute goodies like that.

Following her purchase, the owner of the department store (Aera didn't get a name but she went by M—so chic, right?) invited Aera to have some complimentary tea at the café on the first level of the mall. M served Aera her favorite warm beverage—Chai—and let her help herself to some delicate desserts at a cute, little table next to the fountain.

M was the perfect lady to host a tea party. Not only was she the definition of hot and mysterious, but she had such fun stories about her distant homeland, like a never-sleeping dragon with teeth that could become soldiers when planted in the ground. She spoke with a pleasing accent that Aera just couldn't put her finger on where from. Her stories seemed familiar. M somehow made millet the most interesting topic Aera had ever heard of. Her voice was so rich and exotic Aera eagerly drank in every word. It also helped a lot that M looked rich and exotic.

Aera gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh my gods, he did WHAT?!"

Half-way through her story about her absolute red flag of an ex-boyfriend, M swept her long dark hair over one shoulder. On her chest rested a brilliant diamond necklace. It complimented well with her stunning black dress. She looked like a retired fashion model—maybe fifty years old, but she didn't have wrinkles or any clear sign of aging. Her face was gorgeous in that surreal supermodel way—thin and haughty and cold, not quite human. Aera was obsessed with her classy vibes. She hoped she looked that good when she hit her 50s.

"He left me," M said plainly and without emotion.

"For the king's daughter?!" Aera exclaimed, momentarily impassioned. "After you went against your whole family for him? You basically invented him! Without your help, he never would have become a hero!"

"What is that saying?" M set down her teacup and elegantly dabbed the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief. "Behind every successful man there stands a woman." Ugh.

"But why stand behind him?" Aera frowned, nibbling on a cream puff. "You totally could have thrived on your own."

"You don't know what it was like for women in the old days," M said tersely, speaking as if she wasn't from this era. "We had no power, no leverage. Often we couldn't even choose our own husbands. But I was different. I chose my own destiny by becoming a sorceress."

"Slay," Aera praised. She took a small sip of Chai with her pinky up because she was posh like that. Sitting there with M and talking about boys made her feel her a sense of longing, though she wasn't sure what for.

"I get it," Aera said thoughtfully, pushing her plate away. "To save the world, I sacrificed my own boyfriend and some fish boy came and took all the credit. He became a hero—'the Savior of Olympus'—while everyone thinks I'm crazy for what I did." Aera crossed her arms and huffed. "Even though I looked way hotter on top of the world than he did."

A tight smile spread across M's mouth. "Time flows forever yet humanity never changes. What is a madwoman, if not a victim of her circumstances?"

Even now drinking tea, Aera could still hear Luke's voice ringing inside her head like an alarm that wouldn't stop beeping: You'll latch yourself onto anyone who makes you feel extraordinary because of how powerless you are on your own.