The Spark That Ignites the Dawn

Chapter Seven: A Promise to Break

"The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts and the stupid ones are full of confidence." ~ Charles Bukowski

Marya decided that she would have to see to Vasya sooner, because whatever her uncle planned after meeting Sig, it couldn't be good. But as soon as Sig had shut the door and strode from the cabin, Aloysius' magic slammed into her.

She was hurled against the wall of the cabin, and cried out. Invisible hands grabbed her, wrapping around her throat, until she coughed and retched and struggled. Fear, cold and fierce, hammered in her beating heart. She felt her feet rising from the ground.

Was he really going to kill her? No— if he did— what would happen to Vasya? She tried to scream, yet more hands smothered her voice. Panic rose up her throat, and she kicked her feet harder, aloft in the air.

Her hands found invisible ones and tried to claw them away. Any magic had left her head, and she was left defenceless. Marya was screaming internally, wondering why she hadn't tried harder to learn magic.

Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't be dying at the hands of her uncle.

But just as black spots began to dance across her vision and her lungs shattered, Aloysius let her go. She slid down the wall and to the floor, collapsing in a heap. Shaky hands tentatively felt her throat, free of hands: but she could feel the angry red marks there.

'You scheming, little slut,' Aloysius said, as if he were reading the headline of the local bulletin board. His voice sounded almost pleased. 'I knew you were a shame upon your family, but a traitor too?'

He crept closer, predatory. Marya began to scramble backwards, still unable to function with her legs but desperate to get away. Crawling on all fours, she pulled and dragged at the wall even as more hands grabbed at her and pulled her down.

Scared, terrified tears pricked at her eyes. What was going to happen to her? Would he finish her quickly, or was he going to keep her alive, for goodness knows what?

'Not only keeping that pathetic swan behind my back but befriending the bloody prince? The prince who slaughtered your family?'

At Sig's mention, Marya's body twitched.

Aloysius' magic slammed against her once more, and she screamed. Her head hit the wall, and pain exploded there.

'Befriending the prince and loving him,' Aloysius said, and his voice had hardened. 'I always knew you wouldn't be strong enough. No, this won't do...'

He trailed off, murmuring to himself.

Marya moved an inch. He didn't notice. She knew she wouldn't make it to the door without him realising, but— could she work any magic? What did she remember?

Von Rothbarts could shift. Her uncle was an example of that.

She'd shifted a few times in her life, and never frequently. The last time had been maybe a year or two ago now. She remembered the moment; she'd been running through the forest, climbing through trees, and had felt unbridled happiness as she was fast and swift as any bird. The change had been a part of that feeling, as though her body was suddenly unaligned with her own being, and she'd felt her body ripping apart and reassembling...

But she'd never practiced, never known how to control the change. She'd never wanted to ask for Aloysius' instruction. She'd have to spend more time with him than necessary. But now, she had to make it to the door faster than her uncle.

'I promised my sister I would raise you and prepare you for your future as koldunya and queen,' her uncle laughed, and the noise was bitter and sour all at once. 'But you were never worthy of that title.'