Chapter 10

Ping! Beetle looked up to see who had just entered the manuscriptorium and was pleasantly surprised to notice Jenna, her straight hair blown wild in the wind and her eyes downcast. She smiled at him, although not as cheerily as usual but with that deep fondness that he had observed recently.

"Jenna!" he greeted her, unable to hide a big grin.

"Hello Beetle! How are you?"

"Oh…well I'm fine…but never mind me…how are you coping?"

Beetle was aware of Sarah's death for the news had travelled fast around the castle and he knew it must be terrible for Septimus and Jenna. He didn't even want to imagine how distraught he would be if his own mother was to pass away.

"Well…I guess I'm okay…" The young girl shifted uncomfortably. She did not want to talk about her mother or anybody else for that matter. There was something she really wanted to tell Beetle about though she was afraid to do so, terrified of his reaction. Jenna had dragged herself all the way to the manuscriptorium in the hope that, once confronted with the inspection clerk, she would just let her feeling speak yet she was finding that more difficult by the minute. Maybe, she wondered, it would be easier to just forget about it… This was not easy.

Marcia felt like a failure. She was standing there, leaning on her balcony ramp, as useful as an old sock. She couldn't understand. She had always thought that her one dream, the one thing that would make her happy would be to be the extraordinary wizard. Yet now, she was miserable. Maybe, she reflected, it was the challenge that she had enjoyed; the feeling of having an aim in her life. Marcia was a person who liked being in the spotlight though and that, combined with her outstanding Magykal gift, was what had persuaded her to go for the position. However, for the first time in thirty years, the woman reconsidered her decision and began to see it in a new light. It wasn't a thirst for attention that had driven her forward but a desire to please. She had forever craved the adoration of a mother, the praise of a father and the pride of a family. But that had always been out of bounds for her. Her mother had been ashamed of her, disappointed by her ordinary features and lifeless disposition. As a child, Marcia had been dreadfully shy, her difficulties at home being the main cause of her lack of confidence and resulting in her isolating herself from the other children and being lonely; a misfortune that had followed her throughout her whole life really. Her father had disapproved of everything about her, found a flaw in her every word, a hint of instability in her every step. He had entertained the notion that if she ever tried wearing one of his designs – as his wife did numerous times – the beauty of the clothes would only aggravate her prominent and broad figure. It wasn't the actual meaning of the phrase that hurt the young girl, it was the intention behind them. It showed that her father had no regard for her feelings whatsoever and no will to spare them. Marcia had never really been concerned about her appearance – though she occasionally glanced in a mirror and found nothing wrong with it – but she had noticed her father's constant scrutinising of her face, trying to relate it to her mother's and it had unsettled her. There had to be more than looks for someone to be appreciated. This was why Marcia had chosen such a delicate and difficult path; to prove to everyone – and to herself – that she wasn't such a complete waste of space. Today, she was one of the most respected people alive. But this was where her biggest mistake had been. Respect did not mean admiration, let alone appreciation. Sure, most people looked up to her but she was sure these people thought her grumpy and bad-tempered and, no matter how hard she tried, she would never relate to them. She had wanted affection, dreamed of applause and friendship but all she had really achieved through her high rank was to alienate herself even further form those around her. Unfortunately, however hard she might pretend, Marcia knew that it wasn't her position that separated from others but her temperament. Things hadn't always been that way though. There had been the time when she was with Silas. Back then, she was constantly cheerful. Then all had ended and the girl had been left to cope with the pain of yet another – no, two other failures: the end of their blissful relationship and of her dream, for her ex-fiancé had just become the extraordinary wizard's apprentice. Later, she had met Alther and it turned out her ambition hadn't been crumpled after all. Those years with her tutor had been the best of her life – setting aside her time with Silas. She was reaching closer and closer to her goal with the constant encouragement and patience that Alther had supplied her with. Her wound was slowly healing and, as long as she managed not to open it again, it would probably vanish. So she spent the following years rushing past Silas's door – he had just married Sarah Willow - and declining his invitations to come in without meeting his gaze. He eventually got the hint and stopped talking to her altogether. But then, Alther had died, leaving her alone and stranded and all the memories of her youth came back to her. Marcia had been wrong, she hadn't gotten over Silas. She had shut all the pain and remembrance off, ignored the sharp love pulsating through what was left of her broken heart. But the wall she had built inside her soul had been gradually eroded and, when Alther was killed, a wave stronger than the others crashed into it and all her resistance came apart. She had completely given up fighting her feelings and allowed the blame and despair to wash over her. Jenna had been her last chance for a link to the person she was still head-over-heals with. At least, it had given her a reason to visit the Heaps 4 years ago. Her time in the Marram Marshes had been agonising and she maintained a constant chain of arguments with Silas, desperately fighting the urge to kiss him when he said something particularly foolish, to burst into tears every time he insulted her. Then, Septimus had come into her life. When she first heard that he was a Heap, she expected it to make her life unbearable. Yet, he was different enough from his father not to trigger anything unpleasant though she could see a small resemblance and found it strangely comforting. But now, Septimus was not her apprentice any longer. Once again, she had messed up. Despite her continuous efforts, Marcia couldn't resist blaming Sarah and the repetitive daggers of hatred that shook her body were, although she would never admit it, fairly boosted by jealousy. Sarah was married to the person who haunted her dreams. Plus, she was Septimus' mother. Of course, the wizard knew that it was thanks to Sarah that Septimus had been born, and if she had, in the weirdest of circumstances, ever had a child with Silas, he would have turn out very different. Marcia felt lonely. It was at times like this that she wished she had a best friend. Or someone who really cared about her. Sadly though, she had lived her life so that no-one really did…

AN: I'm sorry for the long update and because this is another depressing chapter. But I promise it's getting better! Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate them! :)