❝ MERLIN'S GHOST! ❞
❝ I MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRONG. ❞
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Albany Bronwen was no Chosen One by any means, but being haunted by the ghosts of the greatest sorcerer of all time and a former king had to count for something, right?
❃ in which a lone...
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WHEN ALBANY WOKE one morning in March, she was greeted with the sudden urge to throw up as soon as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. A rushed trip to the bathroom resulted in nothing but dry heaving and a lingering stomach ache, and she attributed her illness to whatever she had eaten the previous night and her growing anxiety.
She was frustrated, to say the least. She had no reason to feel nervous whatsoever; granted, Merlin and Arthur hadn't reached out in a few days and she still hadn't closed the curtains on her situation with George, but she was sure neither of those issues were considerable enough to be nauseating. No, deep down, she had a gut feeling that something wasn't quite right. Something about the present left her nervous about the future — but what that was, she had no idea. And yet the anxiety remained.
She decided to write to her parents, given the bit of extra time her sudden awakening had granted her that morning. Not that writing to her dear mother and father ever provided peace of mind, but guilt was eating at her that she hadn't contacted them in some time despite the effort they were making to keep up to date with her this year. She knew they hated seeing her in danger almost as much as she did; and they hadn't even been present to see the tasks in person. Nor the effect they were having on their daughter.
"Faith's disappeared again this morning," Phylis remarked conversationally as Albany pondered the next line of her letter. The blonde had sat down beside Albany as Zoe and Viola crowded the bathroom, and was swinging her legs on the edge of the bed. How she felt so comfortable to do so with an acquaintance, Albany had no clue. "I never see her anymore outside class."
"Yeah," Albany agreed vaguely, chewing on the tip of her sugar quill. Planned words forgotten, she sighed, giving up on the letter for a moment. "Me neither."
"I mean, I'm a morning person, but she's gone mad the past month," Phylis giggled. "I guess she does go to bed early."
"I see her with Moody all the time," Viola added, words muffled by the toothbrush in her mouth as she leaned against the bathroom door. She waggled her eyebrows. "You don't think—?"
"Ew, Vi, no!" Phylis laughed, making a face. "He's like sixty, that's gross!"
Zoe peered out over Viola's shoulder, frowning. "I am worried about her, though," she murmured. "I wish she would talk to us. She looks like she's having a rough time."
Albany swallowed hard, guilt rising like bile in her already sensitive stomach. Faith had reached out to her, and she'd passed her off to Moody. She got to her feet, suddenly antsy.
"Albany?" Phylis questioned.
"Gonna go to breakfast," Albany mumbled. She threw her bag over her shoulder and hurried out of the dorm.
