Wings of Avaloria

Chapter 14

ONCE FILLED WITH laughter and camaraderie, the dinner table now seemed dull and lifeless. My appetite disappeared as I picked at my food, lost in my thoughts. Scarlet, ever perceptive, noticed my change in demeanor and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Marcy, are you okay? What happened?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

I glanced up at her, forcing a smile. "It's nothing, Scar. Just a little misunderstanding with Eylaric."

Abigale leaned in closer, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What happened, Marcy? Did he say something to upset you?"

I took a deep breath, trying to push away the sting of rejection. "He said he can't fall in love with me, and he won't. He told me to just forget about it, and now, suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore." I throw my fork down in frustration.

"Do you know why he said that?" Lily asks. And I shrug. And Scarlett looks at Apollo, Wayde, and Ethan. They are clearly hiding something.

"Why are you all looking like that." I snapped at them, annoyed, while they exchanged more looks.

"Listen, Marcy, we shouldn't tell you," Ethan admits. By that point, I'm beyond frustrated.

"Tell me what!" I spat. As Lily, Reece, Jacklyn, Abigale, and I look at them.

"Your father killed his father." Wayde blurted out in defense. The shock and quietness through the group.

"My father killed Eylaric's father, and that's why my father warned me to stay away from him," I said out loud. "Eylaric never told me about this," I whispered, trembling. I can't believe my father would do something so horrible.

Jacklyn reached for my hand, her eyes filled with empathy. "He probably wanted to protect you, Marcy. It's a painful past for him, and he

didn't want you to see him differently because of it."
Abigale nodded, her expression serious. "It's understandable that Eylaric

would be guarded. Losing a parent in such a way leaves scars that run deep."

"No, when he found out who she was, he wanted to kill her at the mention of her name," Apollo admitted. I looked at Apollo, shocked by his revelation. "What do you mean he wanted to kill her? Who is he talking about?"

Apollo sighed, glancing at Jacklyn for support. "Marcy, your father didn't just kill Eylaric's father for no reason; Eylaric's Father killed your mother."

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes welling up with tears. "My... my mother? I don't understand. How is this possible?"

Scarlet reached for my hand, speaking softly. "Marcy, Eylaric's father, was part of a group that clashed with your father's. It was a long-standing feud between them, fueled by personal vendettas and magical rivalries."

I felt a mix of anger and sorrow surge through me. "So, because of their feud, I Iost my mother? And Eylaric knew all along?"

I was pissed off that Eylaric had hidden this terrible truth. His father had killed my mother, and Eylaric himself had wanted to kill me. It was too much to process, and my emotions swelled like a storm. With tears streaming down my face, I abruptly exited the table, leaving my friends behind, and returned to my dorm. The weight of the revelation was crushing, and all I wanted was to be alone. I cried all night, my heartache consuming me until exhaustion finally overtook me, pulling me into a restless sleep.

***

When morning came, I woke up to find myself in my own bed, and for a moment, I couldn't remember how I got there. My head ached, my eyes swollen from crying all night. I have to get ready for the games. I stumbled out of bed and looked out the window. Abigale and Jacklyn don't say a word to me as they prepare in their leathers. They know I need time to process this new information.

"Hey girls, are you ready for the trial games?" I ask, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably.

Abigale looks at me with sympathy in her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay, Marcy?" I shrugged. Deep down, I just wanted to forget all about Eylaric. "I'm good," I say to them, and they both look at each other concerned.

"Marcy, we can talk if you want." Abigale offers, but I shake my head no. "No thanks, I really don't wanna talk right now."

They nod, knowing that I need some space. As they leave the room, I grab my leathers and get dressed. The leather feels stiff against my skin, but it's comforting in its familiarity. I look at myself in the mirror, surprised by what I see. My eyes are red and swollen, and my hair is tangled. I try to fix it as best I can, but there's only so much I can do without a brush or comb.

I sigh, wishing I had someone to talk to about all this. But who could understand? Who would even care? I'm just another pawn in a game of politics and power. And now, I have to face the trial games with a broken heart.