Chapter 18-- Deglutition

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Deglutition (noun)

Meaning: The action or process of swallowing

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<Rose's point of view>

I recognized that face the minute I saw it, Neutral or not. Jezebel, or as she called herself, Jezzie. 

She used to be one of my father's most loyal followers. 

Many years ago, the Black King desired to dabble with in dark magic as what he wanted could not be done within the natural realm. He brought a coven of witches into the Legion--- vile, bony women who would pat my hair and breathe in my ear, telling me about a second-cousin they had who just loved little fledglings--- in order to complete a spell of monstrous proportions. It required an ultimate sacrifice by one of the parties.

Jezebel, ever faithful to the Legion, filled in that gap. She cut off her wings for the King. 

The spell was successful, and all was terribly well in the Black King's Legion, until years later I reconsidered some things and stole the Black King's powers, thereby crippling the Legion (which rendered Jezebel's sacrifice ineffective and meaningless).

It's understandable why she harbors anger against me, and why she would come out of retirement, then. 

She must be working with my father and Katara. It would explain the mind block that prevented Aquila from entering Katara's mind earlier and how Katara's hid all these years. 

I think about how she touched Lloyd like that without his permission and shudder. I pray that what I saw is as far as she'll go, but... there's no way of knowing until after the damage is done.  

Hate is child's play for what I have for that woman.

Which is why I'm surprised that as I walk out the yellow, all too cherry door, hate isn't what's consuming me.

It's a different feeling, one that gnaws at my insides and clutches my heart in a death grip, squeezing most of the joy I've retained over the years right on out. Tears well up behind my eyes, and I don't let them through.

Keeping my composition has never in my life been more difficult or vital.

Oh gosh, Lloyd, what if she...?

Now I understand why the park was like a dead tombstone earlier. Now, the atmosphere is even worse, as if the play park was crying for Lloyd and shaking its finger at me. 

This is your fault. If you hadn't stayed...

I tear out of the park.

The obnoxiously bright colored balloons, umbrellas, and signs fly by me as I spirit away. The first scene to meet my eyes is the parking lot where Lloyd's green bike sits.

Lloyd.

I run away, beyond the parking lot onto the road.  

I have no idea where I'm going.

I honestly don't care. 

Just get away. Run like you always do. 

The hard black asphalt groans beneath my feet, pounding against my heels and wearing them down. I think I'm heading north. I take a right onto a different road that leads off the main one.

The black asphalt fades into dirt and gravel, but I keep going.

Who cares if I trip?

No one's going to pick me up if I do.  

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