Because I'm tie-tie (tired) and surprisingly enough two and a half chapters ahead on this story. Go productivity (I need to channel that for SS...).

Catharsis

By Gold Sparrow

Chapter 5: Memory

The rocks dig into her palms and make half-moon circles across the skin, but Bathsheba doesn't mind. Instead, she crawls forward faster, making use of her knees and toes to create a solid grip on the sharp ground and propel herself carefully. The bushes don't make a sound around her, something that she feels enormously proud of and ashamed about; she had chosen that particular patch to hide in because the voices had told her to. The only noise came from her careless breathing, which forced her to monitor it very carefully.

Still, she creeps toward the opening, slowly rearranging the leaves to hide her. She peeks her head out, wide-eyed and curious.

Then she sees them for the first time.

It's a whirlwind of emotion and awe, fear and grudging respect. Her childish eyes take in everything greedily and desperately, whipping around to catch a glimpse of all the actions taking place. She wants to giggle, but stops herself just in time.

They were-

A being coated in the shiniest, silverest, thickest fur lifts itself onto its haunches, stretching it's back after a hard day at work. It falls back down and pushes a smaller version of itself forward, toward a more lithe and feminine one. Male and female, she guesses. The female licks the baby's face, and snuggles into the male. Mates, she changes her guess.

Even the other ones were-

It looked like a lizard, but with four arms. It was coated in slick scales that ran down it's side in a waterfall of black. It moved slowly, the upper arms massaging it's long, protruding ears while it's lower carries a large pack of hay. Her heart stops when she notices that the reason it was walking so slow was due to the terrible scarring on its ankles and broken talons. It coughs and fire comes out, which it uses to light the hay aflame and eat it.

In all, they just-

Smaller ones, even. Ones that looked humanoid except for their identical faces and pure white bodies. They stood at seven feet each, and along their arms and legs wings spread outwards. One of them falls, it's dress ripped and bloodied. The others come back for their sister, gathering her in their arms and carrying her back home.

She couldn't help but feel-

A group of vined covered men walk a part from the other species, casting suspicious glances. They had hair that were various shades of blonde and bodies covered in flowers and markings. Their ears were pointed and their nails long.

They blur together in a mix of all colors, and it takes a moment for her to feel her own tears.

They're beautiful.

Every single one.

And from the point on, no matter what anyone else said, Bathsheba loved them. Because she understood that they were in pain and that their beauty was marred, and that was unacceptable. They were all too sad and desperate and strange to show their real selves, but if they did then perhaps, maybe-

"No."

But someone declared that she'd fall for the beauty of the species she didn't know, and so she fell achingly in love. A love that, in truth, she wouldn't be able to replicate for many, many years. However, if there was one thing to note about Bathsheba, it was that once she fell in love, she'd continue to love for her entire life.

Once Bath enrolled in the Sabathe school, she was placed in an orphanage.

She had a tight schedule revolving around trying to get to school all the way across the city and avoiding the harsh gazes of the priests. They liked to catch her and rant about how she was a burden who set a bad example. The truth was that they were angry because her presence made the real orphans, the ones who had to attend grueling church lessons everyday, question why she was different. They had to go to lectures at the church hall, she went to a famous starter school. They were sent to power the Gunuds, she was free to live her life the way she chose.

'Why her?' became the motto of the unwanted children, who finally had something to ostracize like they had been.

"Bathsheba, do you see it?"

Many nights she closes her eyes and listens, wiping away silent tears. Her ears hurt from the yells of angry adults and the lash-like whispers of scorned children.

"We'll help you see. Here, here, listen."

Bath curls into herself, like a flower without the sun, and all the snores of the orphans around her melt away.

"Do you hear it?"

She does. Like chimes and heartbeats and the twinkling of a star, like something vibrating across her chest and filling her head with air. She whisks away, flies away, and everything changes. The colors of the world, the gentleness of a mother's hand, a song sung by everyone who was and would be.

Sweet, soft, complete and cosmic.

In the dead of night, she gets sung to sleep by the voices of angels no one else can hear.

The fire crackles, pops, and giggles.

"He did not!"

"Did too," Bath's words are teasing, light. She leans forward on her elbows, laughing with another woman. "Your husband is a secret scaredy-cat."

"He seems like the type."

"I know what she's saying, Sara, but it isn't true." Nathan comes in from the kitchen, carrying mugs. His eyes instantly shoot to his boss, sending a faux-nasty glare before sitting beside his wife.

"You hurt me, Nathy," Bath coos, taking Sara's hand. "Sara knows the difference between truth and lies."

"You're right, Bath," Sara agrees, her blond hair catching the light. For a moment, Bath is caught in the way the pale golden locks shimmer around her chin, cupping her face. She leans away from her husband, earning a pout from the brown-haired man. "I am very smart. Just as smart as you two geniuses."

"Please." Nathan chuckles, pulling Sara back over. ""Genius" is a stretch."

"Yes, Nathan prefers the word, "surprisingly intelligent"."

"Shove it, beast queen." The nickname makes Bath rolls her eyes. The empty dishes of their meal lay forgotten on the table, and before them the fireplace hums for attention. It's warmth wraps around her legs, relaxing her before her friends.

"I don't like that nickname." It's Sara, surprisingly, who speaks up. Her voice is soft, her amethyst eyes roam toward the lit logs. Her face is illuminated by the brown-orange light, a pretty face protected by her middle-class father and mother before being offered to Nathan on her eighteenth birthday. Bath wonders sometimes if she had any motivation at all to do something with her life, but knows that if it wasn't for her own peculiarities she would've lived out the exact same scenario.

Except that her husband might have not been a kind, goodnatured man like Nathan. He might have been old and terrifying and controlling, he might have had the face of someone much younger than he actually is. But that's both biased and hypocritical, so she shoves the thought away. Bath pauses to study the wrinkle-free face of Nathan, with his bright green eyes and messy hairstyle. He was twenty-five, an looked his age, but it was unsurprising since he vowed to age at the same rate as his precious, non-magician wife who was three years his minor.

In a world of magic like the one they live in, age really is just a number. At least when dealing with magicians.

"Why?" Bath whispers in response, tilting her head. Nathan's eyes drop, but his arm goes around Sara tightly.

"They say...Things. Bad things, about you and Nathy. The ones who don't understand what you're doing." Such gorgeous amethyst jewels. They meet her sky-blues with desperation and hope. "You're doing great things! You're helping everyone with your work. The methods you propose, the schedules and the data, it's-it's all for the good of mankind. So...So I don't get why people are being so mean to you two…"

Ah, yes, a young woman educated by her brainwashed mother who was educated by her brainwashed mother before her.

Bathsheba doesn't break Sara's gaze.

Then her lips quirk upwards.

"People fear what they don't understand." Sara's eyes, so naive and sweet and unknowing, blink. Her eyelashes bounce in such a pretty way that Bath wants to hug her. Gentle and docile and sheltered by a husband who loves her, Sara tries to understand. Nathan kisses his wife's temple, almost sadly, and gives an apologetic smile at his boss.

Later he tries to explain that Sara just doesn't get it. That she doesn't understand what Nathan says to her. That she's young and has never even seen the other species, that he hasn't give up hope. Bath stops him, and tells him it's alright.

She tells him she wishes every person was like Sara.

She doesn't tell him that she wishes that, at least once, she had the chance to be like her.

"I love the beach."

Awkwardly, Ugo shifts. He shyly looks at Bathsheba out of the corner of his eye, tucking his knees close to his chest. Her gaze is trained on the sea, a small smile playing on her lips. She looks calm and centered, balanced. She looks strong, too, but Ugo can't describe that part of Bathsheba without turning a shade of red embarrassing for even him. Instead he contents himself with just staring, studying. He pretends she's an algorithm, because those make sense and she doesn't. He imagines writing a code that would create the exact shade of her hair, somewhere between navy and azure. He imagines trying to rewrite the same code for her eyes, which are big and shiny and coated with thick, long lashes. Except that they're also wise, too, old.

She's beautiful.

It can be really hard knowing that. It makes seeing her feel like the world is ending and she's the real god. It makes him feel like he should be next to her but as far away as possible. He can only stand it because she doesn't know she's beautiful. Because she doesn't act like she is. She does things to her hair that he considers a crime, pinning the long locks to the up and placing it in a tight bun that constricts it's natural movement. Bath had even tried to cut it once. He barely stopped her, and it involved blushing and stuttering and so much embarrassment. But he had been stubborn, and she, in surprise, agreed to leave her hair long.

She also wore the uniform of a real professor. She is a real professor, but her attitude towards teaching, learning and study is radically different than that of the other teachers at the university. That's why it constantly surprises him that she wears the same neat and tidy clothes as the rest of the professors: black robes, white belt, sash showing her exemplary status. And yet, he notes with a fond smile, she always puts on a pretty dress whenever they all go out to dinner. She wears something that's feminine and cute and makes her look like an angel, but only for a short while and then it's locked up again.

Nathan told him she doesn't like looking like a girl. That she has anxiety about being treated as helpless because she's a woman. He doesn't understand why, though. He never thought less of her because she's a girl. If anything, the very fact that she's accomplished so much in, he admits, a male-dominated society makes him feel even more respect. But it's her wish, so he'll treat her however she wants to be treated. As long as he's allowed to stay next to her like this, he's willing to go along with whatever she'd like.

"I do, too."

There was him, making a mad cackle that echoed with the happiness of bright eyed youth.

There was her, sitting with her legs tucked under her and her face slack. They sat in plain view, watching the magical beings she loves with attentive eyes.

"Is this your form of fun, little Bath?" The man beside her asks, looking up to the side. She'd answer, but knows that he's not speaking to her. "Oh, happy day, you've found it!"

"Found what, sir?" She uses a soft voice, a gentle voice. Her mentor was a man with clouded eyes and strong features, a tired old man in youthful skin. Those eyes turn to her, a brown like sun touched gold, and his hand settles on her head.

"The food." Startled, she jolts back before a something hits her back. Her staff is pushed into her hands before she's falling off the cliff, her mentor's cackle crackling above her.

He pushed me.

"Feed your soul!"

She grasps her staff and orients herself, activating her strength magic. Billowing below her, her magic sets her down gently, knees against the dirt of the ground. A beast nearby stops and studies her.

His teeth are jagged and long, his fur an indigo she hasn't seen before. Her knees shake, and she presses herself against the wall, clutching the wooden staff to her chest. Tears gather in her eyes as the prospect of death inches ever closer to her. She whimpers, dreaming of her mother's warm arms and the fun she had in her classes. But was this what she wanted? To die alone without her parents' knowledge?

Without accomplishing what she always wanted to accomplish?

When she opens her eyes, she's squeals when she sees the creature had came closer, looming over her. He lowers himself down, taking a big whiff of her scent. She freezes, her heart racing. Every spells she's ever known disappears in a fraction of a second, every memory she ever had speeding across her mind.

There was something warm and sweet, a touch of a baby brother's soft hand, the exact way her father's mouth squirmed when he was thinking. A gentle ray of sunlight through a cloud, peering into a large window in the orphanage stained green and blue. Something utterly delicate wrapping around her, lifting her into the air-

Bathsheba snaps back to reality.

The beast.

The beast was holding her. She shakes uncontrollably as it lifts her higher, right in front of its face. She pushes down all terror as her gaze meets its.

A pause.

Time pauses for her, allowing both of them to stare into one another's eyes. She sees the weariness there, the concern and a wisdom she doesn't recognize. She sees a light that a mindless beast cannot have, a thought traveling across slitted pupils. Then, slowly, the beast reaches up with her still in its hand, and places her back atop the cliff. She clambers off, looking behind her.

It, no, he, turns away and walks back toward his paused group of friends.

A hand ruffles her hair, a mad smile from a mad man. A tear slips down Bath's cheek as an unidentifiable feeling leaks into her bones.

"I hate you, Saul!"

Saul laughs, because they both know she'll be back tomorrow.

*Sings* MORE BATH FOR Y'ALL.

So yeah, no Davie dearest this chapter. BUT NEXT CHAPTER...He makes a cameo. The chapter after that he talks, though! In this chapter, to summarize, Bath fell in love with the other species, we met Nathy's sweet wife Sara, and Ugo has a monologue that is entirely fluff. Also we met madman Saul ("FEED YOUR SOUL!")~! Hope ya like 'im, 'cause next chapter is his POV!

Got any questions or suggestions? Something wrong about the chapter? Grammatical errors, something you didn't like? PM me or leave it in the reviews, I will reply and see what I can do to make the story better/clearer for y'all to understand. ILY MY DARLING READERS!

BYE~~~~~~~