Blades of fire and hearts of ice

Getting ready

I watched Ash leave, and then turned myself towards the room I stood in to finally take it in. It was perfection. A large bed, with the softest blankets and squishiest pillows lay against the dark turquoise wall. Plants hung, flowers blooming in soft shades of pink and purple. The was a large window in place of a wall, behind which was a mass of trees so dense, I couldn't see further. 

I gasped as I walked closer. In the front of the window sat a large desk and a cozy looking armchair. I quill and notepad were set to the side along with a pot of ink. There was also a letter. 

I read.

"Dearest daughter. Though I have no right calling you that, reffering to you by the name I gave you would be much too cruel."

My mother wrote me a letter. 

"I wish I could greet you myself upon your arrival, however urgent matters came up, requiring my help. Although, you  must already be aware. By now, I suppose you have already met your brother. But again, I should not reffer to him that way just as yet. There is so much I want to write to you just now, but I'll keep it as short as I can. You might not trust me. I I deserve it. I abandoned you. I left you to live a cruel life."

I put the letter down. Years of resentment overcame me and crumpled the stupid letter and threw it against the stupid window. How could she? She left me and then labelled my life as cruel? She didn't even know. How could she sit there on her throne with her family and say that my most cherished memories were a cruel life? How could she?

I was tired and annoyed and I wanted to go home. But even as those thoughts overcame me, I knew it wasn't true. I knew it was a lie. I did want to stay. I did want to know. And for that, I hated myself. 

I threw myself onto the overly plush bed with the sickiningly soft pillows. I missed the hard-as-rock mattress at home. I missed the uncanny smell of the orphanage. I missed everybody and I wanted to gohome. Would I ever see them again?

I pushed my earbuds in my ear and let the voice of Alex Turner over come me. 

I must have fell asleep for godknows how long. I woke up lazily. My playlist had reached Grimes. I sighed and dragged myself to the washroom. I nearly choked on my saliva. The thing was as big as the study room back home. The ceiling arched two stories above, vines dripping off of them. To my right a door revealed an even bigged closet. Dresses, shoes, accesories, casual clothes, cloaks...everything.

I made my way back to the washroom and peeled off my clothes and sank into the warm bath water. Immediately, tiny bruises and cuts began burning dully. I washed myself and found a first aid kit for the bigger cuts. 

Then, finally, I walked towards the closet. I would have worn my old clothes, but I realised they were torn and cover with mud. I looked through the sea of dresses and clothes before me, but i refused to wear them. I was not going to become a part of this place so fast. 

I walked back into my room and to my surprise, there was a parcle on my bed. I had a note in a scrawly cursive handwritting. 

"Lets see if I got your taste right"