Chapter 45

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^^btw I absolutely love the character introduced in this chapter^^. ^^that pic is of her, but with brown eyes. And she doesn't nearly put that much work into her hair (only on occasion)^^


But...how?

I stared wide-eyed at those pointed ears of mine in the mirror. And at the way my fea shimmered softly through my skin, as if lace come to life.

How can my reflection be elven? I'm a human!

My parents are elves...

Still outrageously confused, I let my hand drift up to touch the pointed ear—

And it's met with the smooth roundness of a mortal ear.

I cast the mirror aside and stumble—which an elf does not do—to the ordinary mirror (which does not shimmer strangely). I appear purely human in it. My ears are round, my skin blemished with a few occasional pimples, my eyes do not shine with that immortal beauty. Just... normal. Human. Mortal.

"By the Valar, I'm so confused."

I run my hand through my hair, but end up shaking it free from wet tangles. I turn to the shimmery mirror on my bed and gaze upon the mysterious thing. I stood there for a time.

"I'll just... I'll deal with you later." I stride past it to the door, fully intending on leaving it alone, but end up hiding the strange mirror in the depths of a feather pillow, hoping I won't cut my face open later.

I push the... weird event out of my mind, locking it tightly away to deal with later, and bring forth Sunnwyn's directions. Soon I'm standing in front of a wooden door, a wreath of black feathers decorating the rather bland exterior. The silky Raven and thrush feathers signified the sorrow of mourning.

To knock or not to knock...

"I hear you out there, my lady. Feel free to come on in!" I recognize Sunnwyn's muffled voice.

I open the door—

Silver sharpness flies for me—

"Woah!" I duck, my palm resting on Gorthaden's pommel, ready to defend me. I glance up to find a throwing knife embedded in the door frame.

"See, I told you she'd have good reflexes."

"I never said she didn't, Sunngifu. And that doesn't give you reason to scare the poor girl."

A young woman with vibrant gold hair sat at a table, an array of knives spread out in front of her swollen belly. She lowers her head in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you, Prophecy-Written. I am Sunngifu."

My eyes would not return to their normal size, pommel still in my palm. I don't look away from the knives in front of her, my heart will not slow its thunderous beat.

"I gathered," I reply slowly.

"Daughter," Sunnwyn hisses, "she is a Lady."

"She is not and never will be 'my lady,' so I will not call her one." Her brown eyes lift to me, "I mean no offense."

"o-of course," I stammer. She follows my gaze.

"Have a problem with knives?"

"Just a... bad history." I checked to see if my sleeves were in place.

"Ah," is all she says. She pats at the space next to her on the table, a simple ring glittering in the lamplight. "Come sit."

She didn't move the knives.

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