Chapter 8

Silas heap was walking along Wizard Way and thinking. He had been terribly affected by Sarah's death, yet, not as if she was his true love, more as his very good friend. How could that be though? Silas had always persuaded himself that he loved Sarah, more than everything else. But the more he reflected, the more he realised how wrong he was. He had allowed his mind to play tricks on him, for it wasn't Sarah he loved. She had just been there, she had helped him move on with his life and he was pretty sure that she hadn't loved him that romantically either. Chance had thrown them together, Silas with his still broken heart after his father turning in to a tree and his old love dumping him over a fight with his mother and Sarah's twin sister had recently died of a disease and the two had been very close. Silas had never been particularly bright but he had enough experience of life to know that when someone was in need of love and affection, they would turn to the first available person to give it to them. In this case, he had found Sarah and the two had matched up. His brain had automatically persuaded him that he was indeed in love with Sarah. And everything had been fine for the next 15 years or so. Now, one question remained, who was it that he truly loved? The wizard had reached the door of the tower and, after speaking the password, he walked in, still engrossed in his thoughts. The solution was crystal clear. He had always loved her! It was a pity no-one here knew who she was…

Silas had now reached the top landing and was about to knock when he remembered that Septimus had tried to tell him something about how to get into Marcia's rooms. Sadly, he hadn't really been paying attention and was completely unable to recall what it was. With a shrug, the man moved closer to the door, which swung wide open for him.

At first, silence and darkness seemed oppressing however, after a moment, Silas could distinguish a silhouette, lying on the floor and the sound of crying. He was alarmed as it struck him that the weeping was obviously Marcia's. He rushed forward and dropped at her side, gently turning her over. She was apparently unconscious or asleep and her whole body was racked with sobs.

"Marcia! Marcia? Oh Marcia!" he whispered softly, scooping her up in his arms and rocking her to and fro. She was now sobbing desperately and clinging to his shirt so tightly, her knuckles were white.

Silas tried to fight the rising panic that he was experiencing. He had never seen Marcia display as much emotion and had always imagined her to be very self-controlled. But it was now obvious that she was in complete depression.

Unknown to Silas, the box was still out of the cupboard though Marcia had also cast a spell on it so that it would never reveal itself to anyone else but her. The man was exhausted and a very large part of him wanted to lie down and sleep. Nevertheless, he wouldn't possibly forgive himself if he left his upset superior in this condition and with a resolute sigh; he carried her over to her bed. The covers looked as if they had been flung aside and it wasn't difficult to tuck her in. Silas sat on a corner of the mattress and waited until Marcia improved – which, he was aware, could take all night. At least, she had stopped crying and was sleeping soundly.

He stared at the sleeping figure wrapped up in the purple blanket. She seemed to be having a sad dream, and he could just about make out her closed eyelids, still blotchy from all her tears. He shook his head miserably, what was Marcia doing to herself?

A few hours later, when Silas was almost dozing off, the extraordinary wizard woke up. She had, yet again dreamt of Silas and had come to the conclusion that she was utterly responsible for the end of their affair. She sat up in her bed and, noticing Silas, tried to stop more water streaming from her eyes. The effort was giving her a splitting headache and she moaned slightly. The barely audible sound was enough to wake her watcher from his light slumber and he turned to face her full on.

"Marcia, what's wrong?"

"Nothing much. Just a sore head and tired eyes." She replied, trying to smile.

Silas glared at her for an instant. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

"I'm not talking about that! When I came in, you were sobbing yourself senseless."

The woman felt a weight at the bottom of her stomach. How could she have let anyone see that?

"Um well…my headache was so unbearable that I guess I must have broken down. I'm sorry if I worried you." She mumbled, saying the first thing that had slipped into her mind.

The man sitting on her bed tried to hide his amusement at her resistance – some things just never changed - and told her sternly:

"You have nothing to apologise for Marcia! And I don't believe that lame excuse of yours for a second either…"

Suddenly, to her embarrassment, and Silas's horror, tears started pouring uncontrollably down her face. Silas had appeared so concerned just then. As if he really cared. But she knew he didn't. The realization that she had nothing left to live for hit her hard and her eyes had now transformed into water taps. He stroked her hand and tried to appear calm even though that was the last thing he was feeling right now.

"Are you going to tell me what is wrong?" he asked softly.

Feeling too tired to protest she said tearfully:

"It's my entire fault!"

"What is?"

"Everything!"

"How do you mean!?"

"I am so selfish, conceited, snappy, grumpy, bad-tempered, m—"

"You are not selfish, if you were, you wouldn't have taken Septimus as your apprentice and helped him enjoy it so much. You are most definitely not conceited. As for being bad-tempered, it's short-tempered that applies best and ok, I will admit that you may be slightly grumpy but everyone is at times and being snappy is your way to show it…"

Marcia sighed. She wished people would stop lying. She was perfectly aware of the fact that everyone thought she was a terrible extraordinary and she was certain Silas thought it too. Too weary to contradict him, she just answered:

"Whatever," before resting her head back on the pillow.

After a moment she inquired:

"Is there anything I c should know?"

"Um…Sarah died!" Silas blurt out. He just wanted to get the information out without being all awkward about it.

"Goodness! I'm so sorry Silas! You must be devastated!" exclaimed Marcia, tactful enough not to ask how it had happened.

"Yea…I am. But not really as I would be for someone I love. More for like a very good friend…I don't think me and Sarah were attracted to each other romantically. Or if we were, it was only in the beginning…"

It took Marcia a while to understand that Silas was talking more to himself than to her and she cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Oh yes sorry…The point is…I love somebody else…"

The man was obviously still in monologue-mode yet Marcia couldn't stop curiosity overwhelming her.

"Who do you love then Silas?"

"…No-one knows her from here."

"Do I know her?"

"……..No…I don't think you do…."

Marcia felt even more despaired then before. Not only did Silas not love her but she wasn't even considered in his decision. She just closed her eyes and went to sleep. It wasn't until he was sure that she wouldn't wake up again that Silas slowly crept out of the room…

AN: I'm sorry, am I being fluffy again? By the way, the reason that Marcia wasn't surprised by seeing Silas in her rooms at half past one in the morning was that she wasn't feeling at her best and in no state to notice something wasn't right.