Good Morning, Little Ones!

Thank you to Mel, Jill, and Dani!

.: 47 :.

My sobs are silent and wrack my body so hard, I can't breathe. I'm covered in the blood of perhaps the only creature here who has been truly kind to me in any way. Is this what I have become? Someone who slits the throat of their friends?

I want to curl in on myself, to forget this wretched moment, but I have to keep moving. I cannot stay here. I've lingered too long, and I can't let Alistair's life and death be for nothing. He sacrificed so much for me, and even if he was ordered to do it, I felt it in his last moments: he would have chosen to help me anyway.

Get up, Bella. Get up and move.

The voice inside me is demanding, forcing me to my feet. I slip in his blood once, and it nearly undoes me all over again.

With shaking fingers, I clean the hunting knife on my shirt before I sheath it and stagger forward, down the hall. I can't look back at Alistair's lifeless body, can't stop to dream about giving him a proper funeral. I have to keep going.

I hate who I've become. I hate everything this quest has brought me. Right now, in my anger and pain, that even includes Edward. More than anything, I wish I'd never crossed paths with him.

I am not myself, and I have not been for a very long time now.

My feet stumble to a halt in the hallway, and I have to lean against the wall, sucking in deep breaths to let my tears out. My magic is raging out of me, lashing out in my pain, and around me, I can feel the walls rattle.

It's enough to force me to pull myself together. I can't be caught, not like this.

I give myself another minute to take a few more breaths, and then I force every feeling, every thought, deep down inside of me.

Another minute, and I find my feet again, moving away from the wall and focusing on my task. I stumble down the hall, letting my magic guide me. Alistair was right; I know the library as soon as I'm upon it. I can feel the power of the stored words behind the large double doors. Deep magic resides here.

I tug at a door. It's heavy, and my fatigued body struggles with it.

I pull the door open enough that I can slip through.

The library is dark, but even in the darkness, I can sense the vastness of the space. The doors close behind me with a gentle thud, and my heart triples its speed in my chest. Goddess, how am I supposed to do this?

Words reverberate through me. I offer you true sight. May your eyes see what your magic knows.

I take a deep breath, shut my eyes, and trust.

My magic sweeps the room, flooding every nook and cranny in the library, seeking.

I know it when I feel it, and my eyes fly open. It's still dark, but my magic has become somewhat of a sixth sense, allowing me to navigate unencumbered.

My steps are sure, and I move with purpose through the dim room, trusting that I know where I'm going.

There are countless books and scrolls in this room, and each one of them is alive with an energy that calls to me. They whisper to me, beckoning me closer, tempting me with their knowledge.

It's all I have in me not to lose my focus, to wander into them and be lost to it all.

I feel my magic tugging me forward, trying to keep me on track.

I turn a corner and stop short, my heart freezing in panic as I catch sight of someone. I'm so amped up it takes me a minute to realize I'm looking at my own reflection.

It's a gruesome sight. I'm covered in blood and mud from my trek through the woods. I look like death warmed over, and no matter how hard I insist I should, I cannot meet my own gaze. I'm ashamed of who I will see looking back at me.

I'm about to turn from the mirror, when a flash of gold catches my eyes.

I blink, looking back at the mirror. I look the same, except I don't. There is something different in my face, and it takes me a minute to realize my eyes are are no longer brown. I have to meet her gaze, the girl in the reflection, to really start to understand. Her eyes are silver, reflective and bright. Just like Edward's.

It's eerie, and I get the sense that the woman in the mirror staring back at me is not actually me. At least, not how I am now. She smiles at me, and I have to reach up to my own mouth to make sure I'm not smiling. Her arm doesn't move with mine, and a chill runs down my spine. The longer I look at her, the more I see she's not quite me. The gauntness of her cheeks and face are fading away. She looks more willowy than I am, softer and stronger in ways I don't quite understand. Around her shoulders, sits a golden cape, and I realize there are soft feathers woven throughout it.

"Who are you?" I ask, my voice rasping and loud in the silence of the library. She offers me a sphinx smile.

"The better question," she whispers, and her voice is so unfamiliar, I'm starting to doubt this is me at all. The longer I look at her, the longer I think not. "When am I?"

I stare at her, utterly transfixed and confused. She grins, and her smile is sharp, almost feral. It sends fear through me, and I know, this woman in the mirror is not me. She is alien beyond recognition. "You'll find me, Little One." She purrs the nickname the same way Edward does, and I can't help the deep shiver down my spine. "When it's time, you'll find me."

I'm shaking. "I don't think I want to."

She grins. "You will."

"What are you?" I ask.

She smiles, and the feathers around her flutter. "You're going to need to find more courage before the day is up." She tilts her head. "Don't fret, Little One." She purrs. "Death is not nearly as bad as you fear. You will learn that soon enough."

My heart plummets, but before I can ask her anything, I hear the library door open. I'm too frantic, too unfocused, and when I move to hide, I knock over a stack of books that hits the ground with a tremendous thud.

Guards are on me in moments, yanking me to my feet, and as I'm hauled up, I glance up to the mirror. The woman is still standing there, laughing as I'm hauled away.