[Completed]
An alchemist who poisoned himself, an assassin who stabbed his own heart, an arsonist who burned herself, and a hero who couldn't defeat his inner monster.
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( A re-enact of Hades...
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The Fates and heartless were two inseparable terms. They cherished the idea of conflicts, mortal peril, war, and deaths. At times, they spent days waltzing over red-ferum bath. They knew Gaia's pain, holding the power of cosmical balance. Arsonist at times, they wavered tapestry on a loom with threads of life, seldomly they spared power for greater good. For eternity they dictated destinies of humans at their pleasure, alternated it with immunity from guilt.
Albeit, the Fates were neither evil nor were they wrong. They were jusf not a fan of stagnancy in life cycle. They fancied to juggle around with wealth, love, and misery. Perhaps, that was why they loathed the idea of normalcy. In their perspectives, there was nothing as mundane or coincidence. Everything was planned and determined by them. Nothing in this universe or another was unplanned.
At the time being, Gammaliel bet that the fates must have hated her. Because in this space of time, normal was not the perfect word to describe her situation .
Normal, in her perspective, was knowing that her father had twisted his mind years ago and locked up in St.Mungo's ward. Normal was hugging Alpha a little longer before she departed to Hogwarts. Normal was not feeling her body tensed whenever her eyes caugh the sight of Martin McKinnon. Right now, normal was merely a myth.
The arsonist's path was akin to sequences of exploding firecrackers. One event had unraveled the others and it caught her off guard. Certainly, the Irish witch had never expected to share a kiss with the boy she thought as a friend for life. There was a battle in her mind, weighing what action she should execute next. The magic brewed in the pit of her stomach was bubbling. There were mornings where she touched her lips and pondered was what Martin said real. As soon as the image of them sharing a kiss appeared in her mind, there was a strange tingle inside her throat.
The kiss felt wrong, she discerned.
But the problem was never him. McKinnon was a daydream, he was swooning and sweet, while she was a nightmare in glittered sky. Nightmare would only exist if daydream did too, they co-existed in Gaia's harmony. Though, never reconciled into one, the way the daylight would never get to meet twilight sky.
And just like that normalcy was nonexistent in their life. There was only awkwardness cascaded on the atmosphere between them. Gemma's mind was whirlwind as she peered to Lily's witch-weekly copy, and her attention wasn't on the witches pheromones nor the chugging noise of Hogwarts Express. No, her attention was running repulsive mechanism that she didn't kiss Martin McKinnon.
