The Dark Heir - Nyx

40. Theia

Theia had forgotten how horrible it was to be alone in the village. Nyx had gone to training with Zenova at sunrise, leaving Theia to munch on breakfast in silence. She'd spent hours after that laying in the bed, taking a long bath, trying on various items in Nyx's wardrobe. She settled for a thick wool sweater tucked into baggy pants. She had to tie them with a leather strap to keep them on her hips and roll them at the bottom. She'd borrowed a pair of Zenova's boots, hoping to be home before they were so the female wouldn't know.

Theia planned to go to her own home today. She wanted to gather a few of her own clothes and maybe bid it a final farewell. The first few steps outside were agonizing. That weight returned to her stomach and shoulders, the sense of being lost in a place she knew all too well. How badly she wanted to return to the Summer Court, swim in the sea and forget who she was.

Theia trudged on. She took the route outside of the village, hoping to avoid anyone she knew. The village wasn't too cold, not this time of year, but it was still colder than she'd been used to in the past month. The snow had melted some, dirt peeking through the scattered white. Theia crossed her arms, watching her feet as she walked.

She lifted her head, searching the landscape for her home. There it was, empty and solemn. And the door was open. Theia's heart sped up, her brows creasing as she glanced at the neighboring homes. They all looked fine. She slowed her step as she neared the doorway, using the tips of her fingers to push the door open more.

"Hello?" She called out, slowly stepping into the dark home. There was no response, just complete silence. With a heavy exhale, Theia peered around the room. Her heart stopped, her stomach dropping. Her firewood was gone, as well as the nice chairs that Rhysand had given her. Something was dumped onto the table, and it looked like drawers were beside it. Theia crept forward, poking at the fabric.

It was her mother's clothes. Moth-eaten and dingy, but they were there. Worry beginning to eat at her, Theia turned and hurried into the small corridor that led to the bedrooms. The door to her mother's bedroom was open, the closet doors ripped apart and things strewn across the floor. Theia turned to her own bedroom.

Her drawers were pulled open; some empty, some with items haphazardly thrown in. Her bed was upturned, as though someone was looking beneath the mattress. Her closet was open, most of her clothes missing. The ones that remained were the clothes from when she was younger, smaller.

Theia dropped to her knees, glancing around the room as it felt like her life had been torn from her. She didn't think she was attached to this home. It had brought her nothing but misery. But the part of her life that she was stable, able to buy herself clothes and food and have warmth, was gone. It was ripped from her like it meant nothing.

A shout of frustration tore from her throat. The only things she had for herself were gone. Not everything, but most of it. Angry tears flooded her eyes as she rose to her feet and filed through the dresser. Her undergarments were gone. It felt like a violation. Wiping her cheeks, Theia marched into her mother's bedroom. Hidden from the corridor, her bed was upturned, too. The sheets and blankets were thrown off, small items from her life were gone, too.

Maia's jewelry, her letters, everything. Her clothes from the closet were on the floor, everything empty. Theia bit down on her tongue, trying not to scream but feeling the sweet distraction of pain. It allowed her to suck in a breath, pass the nausea, and walk to the kitchen. As she guessed, all food and cooking ware were gone. Not one pot, not one bowl. Next, she went to the bathing chamber.

Her bars of soaps were gone, the jars open and empty. Her few cosmetics were gone, too. This shit was not valuable. It offered nothing to someone who'd take it. Her clothes, her soaps poured out, it was pointless. Theia frantically wiped at the cheeks, the action hard enough that her teeth clacked together. The only person who'd been in her home and knew what would affect her was Silas. He had no reason to do it, but Theia blamed him anyway. It was easier than being angry at someone who she didn't know.