EVIE
She's not left alone for long. Truly she didn't expect to need this kind of time alone, hadn't ever anticipated her magic manifesting in new ways. She'd had nightmares about it, sure. Had woken sweat-damp and heaving for breath, tangled in the knots of her sheets, gripped by the terror of her fate falling through her grasping fingers like sand. Evie had already adapted so much of her life to hide her magic, bitterly resented those who accepted it so easily, Naturals and Outlanders alike. Evie is not proud of her prejudice, though it's mostly self-focused. But this? This is the realization of every curse, wrongdoing, and sin she has ever committed. A nail in the coffin if complacency. A reminder that no matter how faithful she was, how much she denied the magic she was born with, she would always be Abandoned. Unloved. Unwanted by the gods she had sworn her life to in helpless, desperate devotion.
She isn't sure how long she sits there, nails digging into her scalp, lost in the darkness behind her eyes, before someone stumbles upon her. Scarcely even realizes she's no longer alone until they sit beside her. Then she unfurls from her ball, turns her gaze to the boy at her side, and feels her heart spasm with appreciation and agony in equal measure. He doesn't need the burden of seeing her like this on his young shoulders. And she hates herself for placing it there in the first place. Evie has been scolded for years to keep her composure, and this is exactly why. Making her issues someone else's problem.
But his young voice is soothing, distracting, and she lifts her blue eyes to the flora in bloom around them. It's easier than looking into the sincerity in his young face. "I can tell you about them someday, if you'd like. They're kind of my specialty." Her laugh is a little strained, but it's easier than she expected. But he reads her too well - can't blame him for that when she's huddled in a ball by an overturned chair, but still.
"What I did when I met you...I used magic to heal you. For those of us born here, it's like a curse, because the gods dislike you for your power. It's why we're called the Abandoned. And we can't help it, we're born with it. We don't even get a choice, a chance." She tilts her head back, leans into the wall, stares up at the ceiling and wonders when it was she began feeling this old. Where did her childhood go? It seems lost in a sea of self-doubt and secrecy now. "The Outlanders, like you, they don't have the same feelings. They didn't grow up wanting acceptance from our gods. It has become far more accepted here ever since, but..." Here she stares down at her hands, wishing the magic was like a mass that she could surgically remove somehow. Tear it out like a thorn and let the blood run free until she wasn't tainted any longer.
"My family...they despise it. I think they fooled themselves into thinking it was just a skill for herbs and medicines, which they fostered in me to hide it. I've hidden it for so long, and then-" suddenly upset, she reaches her hand out to the nearest plant, gripping and reaching with all her might until it flings itself sideways. Sending soil all over the floor as the stems shudder in acquiescence. Evie's laugh is hollow as she lowers her hand. Reaches her other to run over Dante's hair slowly, before hooking tentatively at his neck to pull him closer to her. Turns to bury her face in his curls, grounding herself there. "I can't escape it anymore." Where she goes from here is still unknown. But she feels better with Dante against her side, with the words expelled like poison being sucked from her veins.
She isn't sure how long she sits there, nails digging into her scalp, lost in the darkness behind her eyes, before someone stumbles upon her. Scarcely even realizes she's no longer alone until they sit beside her. Then she unfurls from her ball, turns her gaze to the boy at her side, and feels her heart spasm with appreciation and agony in equal measure. He doesn't need the burden of seeing her like this on his young shoulders. And she hates herself for placing it there in the first place. Evie has been scolded for years to keep her composure, and this is exactly why. Making her issues someone else's problem.
But his young voice is soothing, distracting, and she lifts her blue eyes to the flora in bloom around them. It's easier than looking into the sincerity in his young face. "I can tell you about them someday, if you'd like. They're kind of my specialty." Her laugh is a little strained, but it's easier than she expected. But he reads her too well - can't blame him for that when she's huddled in a ball by an overturned chair, but still.
"What I did when I met you...I used magic to heal you. For those of us born here, it's like a curse, because the gods dislike you for your power. It's why we're called the Abandoned. And we can't help it, we're born with it. We don't even get a choice, a chance." She tilts her head back, leans into the wall, stares up at the ceiling and wonders when it was she began feeling this old. Where did her childhood go? It seems lost in a sea of self-doubt and secrecy now. "The Outlanders, like you, they don't have the same feelings. They didn't grow up wanting acceptance from our gods. It has become far more accepted here ever since, but..." Here she stares down at her hands, wishing the magic was like a mass that she could surgically remove somehow. Tear it out like a thorn and let the blood run free until she wasn't tainted any longer.
"My family...they despise it. I think they fooled themselves into thinking it was just a skill for herbs and medicines, which they fostered in me to hide it. I've hidden it for so long, and then-" suddenly upset, she reaches her hand out to the nearest plant, gripping and reaching with all her might until it flings itself sideways. Sending soil all over the floor as the stems shudder in acquiescence. Evie's laugh is hollow as she lowers her hand. Reaches her other to run over Dante's hair slowly, before hooking tentatively at his neck to pull him closer to her. Turns to bury her face in his curls, grounding herself there. "I can't escape it anymore." Where she goes from here is still unknown. But she feels better with Dante against her side, with the words expelled like poison being sucked from her veins.
