Daughters of Creation

Chapter Thirteen: Quatervois (Part One)

"A crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one's life"
—Quatervois

October 15

Rosalyn inhaled sharply, gulping madly for air as she's returned back to her physical body. Emerson stumbled beside her, sucking in air as frantically as she was. They didn't say anything as they fought to get air back into their lungs.

"I'm never doing that again." Emerson shook her head violently, hazel eyes wide, hands trembling slightly. But, Rosalyn knew the trembles that shook the other witch's hands stemmed from anger more than fear. Rosalyn unconsciously rubbed her marked hand, brushing away the sting that lanced through at the contact as a side effect of the magic, and tried to contain the storm before it brew out of control.

"I'm sorry, Emers, I didn't think we'd go through that place. I—"

"What even was that, Rosalyn? Huh!" Emerson swirled on her, heat rushing to her cheeks and turning her face red.

She scowled, haphazardly running a hand through her hair in a rush as she tried to make sense of everything that had just happened and stop Emerson's emotions from slamming into her like a hurricane. It was fruitless, but she tried nonetheless. She could at least be thankful that the fatigue that had been plaguing her had finally relented its hold on her and she felt sturdy on her own two feet for the first time since coming back from the Library of Strey.

"In a sense we basically walked through his magic—basically its essence in physical form, if you will. I'm not sure why it acted that way, but it felt like I was inside of a void while we were there, like everything had been cut off except for the sensations within his magic ... it was almost as if I could feel exactly what he was feeling as we walked through the essence of his magic, Emerson. It was so weird, kinda like feeling your emotions right now, except more like they were ghosting across my own emotions and across my own mind—more intense than when I feel your emotions normally."

Emerson's face twisted and she shook her head again, hands coming up. "No. No. NO! That is way too freaky, Lys! You're telling me you were feeling his emotions? That you could sense the emotions of the person who's killed Rena's little sister, Hari's best friend, Rowan's cousin, that poor shapeshifter? No, that's not normal and that's not right. Maybe we should have told Emrie Michele so she could have smacked sense into us and told us how stupid of an idea that had been!"

Rosalyn's irritation was building, a pressure growing in her head. "Nothing happened, Emerson. You're fine. I'm fine. I don't see why you're so bent about this? I didn't get this bent out of shape when you told me you could feel the energy in every living thing and could see the threads connecting the energy to its living host or how it even extended to the dead—me sensing the murderer's emotions must've come from the mark, nothing more. It's not like I like the idea of me being able to feel his emotions while we were there anymore than you, but if I allow myself to start freaking out then I'll begin thinking I'm some sort of monster! For how can someone not be a monster to sense the emotions of a murderer? But, I'm not going to think like that, Emerson, I can't!"

She curled her arms around herself, her chest heaving from her voice progressively getting louder from barely contained hysteria. It's because of the mark, it has to be! She chanted inside her head, over and over again as Emerson finally lowered her hands and lost her expression of anger. The sound of the other witch sighing caused Rosalyn to flinch, expecting more to be said but Emerson only shook her head. It felt like there was whirling casim slowly opening inside of her, something other trying to make itself known ... You're thinking too much, Rosalyn, it's all just in your head. But it didn't feel like it was all in her head.