Oh I know that it may have been quite a while, but I am afraid it is a case of bear with it and the chapters will come eventually! In current situations I can say with no certainty when the next will be up but only that it will be in time :) I know, helpful!
Anyway, as I always say this is not perfect and there are probably 1 million continuity errors and suchlike. I have been working on this slowly over a couple of weeks now and have tried to keep it consistent so we shall see. Yes there are things that I would change but to be honest it says what I want it to say and beyond that who knows!
This chapter is for NCD without whom the last week may have torn me apart and to Princess Sammi who despite my terrible tendency to reply 2 weeks later is a brilliant person.
Enough rambling from me! It's a chapter, read it if you will and review if you are kind enough to share your thoughts! Thank you for reading and to everyone who has been kind enough to review so far; you are the reason I write at all.
Until next time, which should be before Easter... lol! Enjoy...
Chapter 8
The elements were waging war against one another, like men in battle willing to fight and die for a cause they didn't truly understand yet thoughtlessly believed in. Mother nature, it seemed, was punishing the Earth below, destroying the very essence of nature itself as trees fell crashing to the ground leaving chaos and devastation in their wake. The sky was dark, the pitch black of night despite the fact that the world had long since left the limitations of slumber; something was very wrong.
They did not know what they were fighting for; had they known then they would have shuddered in self loathing, damning their souls for what they were aiding. Ignorance was, in this case at least, bliss. That reasoning would stand until the final judgement.
The sun was gone, the first casualty of a seemingly never ending conflict which was about to tear entire the world apart. The architect of this anarchy hid, cloaked beneath its own creation and laughing coldly as it watched its ideas unfold and the inevitable destruction take over all logic and reason.
In spite of the apocalyptic storm which was beginning to rage far out of control, there was a figure clad in black slipping between the masking shadows. It crouched amongst the trees, knowing perfectly well that the weather was not the only battle which was being waged; some were not even aware that they were fighting. There was a plan, a terrible plan, which had to be followed for the greater good: nothing could go wrong.
Pulling a travelling cloak tighter around its shoulders, the figure braced itself against the thick trunk of a grand oak tree older than any others which surrounded it and looked up at it in awe. Tonight was not the night that it would end, though that night was not far away; no. Tonight would be the night that it began. It would begin in the darkness after this pitiful day had ended, and all would become clear.
Xxx
The room was both unbearably loud yet impossibly silent both at once. A pin could be heard dropping to the floor, its sound ringing when no other dared to ring, yet the chaos of the storm still echoed as the window shutters rattled and the rain which pounded the roof became so violent that it was as though the heavens themselves had fallen to Earth and the Gods were pummelling their angered fists against the slate in protest.
No-one knew quite what to say. It was a room of doubt, one of lies and secrets and untold stories which could change how the world would turn with the power they held.
Xxx
The warm, careful blue of Amelia's eyes caught Adelina's for less than a moment; she couldn't help but wonder. That look, so bright and youthful shining like cat's eyes in the dark with the eager anticipation of someone on the cusp of their prime, was almost beyond explanation.
Yet they were not just bright, not just shining, but shimmering – the shimmer of a veil which could conceal a thousand sins. Behind that lay darkness, a disturbing depth which felt like it reached into the bottom of a never ending well; they were so clear and yet unfathomable.
The headmistress allowed her brow furrow, if just for a second. She didn't trust those eyes. Adelina was not a dislikeable person, very bright and bubbly with a huge smile always plastered across her face. It was whether that smile was genuine which would answer the questions which so desperately needed resolution. There are some things in this world that need to be known, and some things that cannot. Whatever Adelina knew, it was devastating; beyond that, it was a mystery.
Xxx
Adelina could feel Miss Cackle's gaze as it locked onto her own, the sense of being judged taking over her body. Although the opposite of Constance in almost every way, she had picked up one or two of her sister's traits. For one thing, she did not allow people to know what she was thinking. It was a weakness which gave away more about herself than she wished for people to know – it was dangerous. There were some secrets which were too burning hot to do anything more than scorch the innocent.
She looked over to Constance. It was almost laughable that her older sibling thought that it was not plain for anyone to see; the way her posture was dipping ever so slightly on one side, how her hands trembled where she gripped the table...it all pointed judgementally to one thing; both unpredictable yet blindingly obvious. She wanted to feel differently, but she couldn't. Something was telling her how to feel, forcing her emotions to the forefront of her mind; it was terrifying. Adelina Hardbroom had been 'dead' for twenty years; now, much more than her physical form seemed to be returning.
Xxx
Constance closed her eyes for the briefest time, yet when she opened them the world was no more than a blur. Through the haze, she could make out Adelina; it was as if she could feel her eyes bearing into her. She couldn't possibly see through the enchantment, so why was she watching her? Perhaps she was not being quite as subtle as she had hoped that she could be.
The nausea in her stomach had grown like a virus, invading her entire body and taking it for its own kingdom. Her head felt so heavy. Her neck ached from nothing more than the effort of holding her head high and her legs were fighting not to wobble as she struggled even to hold her own weight. The pain felt as if it was about to split her skull in two, burning white hot through her head and clouding her thoughts in a fog of pain. She needed to get out of there, that much was clear, but with everybody watching her it seemed impossible to slip away unnoticed.
Xxx
Amelia did not trust Adelina. She could not quite understand why herself, but there was something about her that was not quite right - she saw it now. That said she was not unwilling to give her a chance. She had learnt, in her many years of listening to others, that one judged simply on first appearances had the great tendency to surprise you; Mildred Hubble was the perfect example of that.
She wanted to worry about the new arrival, of her intentions and her secrets; she felt it her duty. Yet her thoughts were distracted as she felt Constance's hand slip a little beneath her own, struggling to retain its grip on the wooden table. Her fingers were freezing cold, trembling slightly in shock; she needed to help Constance escape this prison of a room before it was too late. Her first duty would always be to her.
'Well,' Amelia announced, clearing the silence which had been sitting uncomfortably for a little too long, 'I think that Mr Blossom will have been able to repair most of the water damage by now. Constance, will you assist me in ensuring that everything is safe and secure?'
She saw Constance straighten painfully at the mention of her name, nodding swiftly. It broke her heart. Turning to the others, she smiled reluctantly at the younger Hardbroom.
'Adelina, could I ask a favour of you?'
'Of course Miss Cackle,' she replied brightly. 'Anything I can do to help!'
'If you would be so kind, I think that Imogen and Davina may need some help in providing the girls with some lunch. I think that it would be best if the rest of the afternoon was spent trying to clean up the damage rather than in lessons; I have the feeling that there will not be much achieved in the way of learning until tomorrow.' Amelia's eyes caught Davina's for a while, not quite giving everything away but enough for her to know better than to question.
'Yes, headmistress,' Miss Bat agreed hurriedly, 'that would be best. We shall get to it right away.'
Adelina's features softened into another of her unforgiving smiles before she followed the other two teachers out of the door and out of sight. Before she left, she looked to Constance and felt so many different feelings bubbling painfully in her chest. So many things were still left unsaid.
Xxx
When Constance was sure that they had gone, she allowed her perfect posture to slip a little with a barely stifled groan. Amelia turned to her with terror shining in her eyes; she could not bear to see such an awful sight.
'Constance...' she whispered, her vision blurred by tears. Placing a hand softly on the deputy headmistress' shoulder, she felt the younger woman stiffen for a moment before giving in. She hadn't the energy to fight the only one who could help her.
'Constance you need a doc-'
'Dungeons,' she breathed, only taking in shallow bursts of air as her chest became heavy, 'not here...might come back.'
She closed her eyes and they both vanished, reappearing half a second later in the dungeons. Once her feet were planted firmly on the ground again, she felt them begin to buckle beneath her meagre weight. Constance swayed for a moment on the spot, the rise and fall of an elegant dancer caught up in a waltz, before collapsing heavily onto the wooden bench closest to her. Wincing as the unyielding wood collided with her ribcage, she tried to take control of the impossible pain which seemed to be forming a power greater than her own.
Miss Cackle watched her, every second of suffering she saw bringing more determination to her heart.
She had heard the start of a desperate plea escape her friend's lips and she was not about to let it go unheard.
'Constance please,' she started, 'we need to get you a doctor.'
'I'll b-be all right I j-just need to sit d-down for a moment,' muttered Constance. Her words were barely strong enough to escape from her lips. She reached a shaking hand, trembling like the quivering hands of an elderly woman in her painful dying days, to her bloody nose and watched her fingers become quickly decorated with shining rubies.
'I might have believed you once,' Amelia told her, taking a seat on the other side of the bench where Constance had half collapsed, 'but you cannot expect me to let you carry on like this.'
'I have to,' replied Constance simply.
'No,' assured the headmistress, 'no you don't.'
Amelia sighed.
'You don't have to pretend, you know. You asked me to help you, don't think that I didn't hear it. You asked me for help and I intend to give it...but I can hardly do that if you won't even show me what is wrong.'
'I d-don't know w-wh-'
Amelia silenced her with no more than a raised eyebrow. It was a lie that she would never have been able to tell convincingly, and the truth was that she didn't want to pretend to be all right anymore. Constance Hardbroom was breaking.
'It's okay,' Amelia comforted her. 'I've known about the spell for some time now and I know that you are hiding something. To me you look perfectly fine but I know...well I know that you aren't.'
Reluctantly, Constance raised her unsteady hands and took a sharp intake of breath as she cast the spell which would cancel out that which concealed her true appearance and forced her, in spite of her pain, to act as she normally would. Her fingertips were on fire, immersed in the burning magic which seemed to be turning against her; if she did not have control over her own power, then she was truly lost.
The veil fell, her final frontier crumbling to nothing, to less than ashes floating on a midnight breeze. Constance lowered her head and closed her eyes, unable to look her only friend in the eye as she showed her what she had never wanted anyone to see. If it hadn't been her last hope, then she would never have burdened Amelia, but in all honesty it had come to be the only thing that she could do.
She couldn't even gasp. Amelia's eyes took in the woman before her, sitting with her heart held out and beating pitifully in her hands, but her mind could not accept it. This was not the woman that she knew. She wasn't even recognisable.
Constance was thinner than Amelia had thought it possible to be, her dress clinging helplessly to her bones and her cheeks hollowed from near starvation. The dark circles hanging heavily beneath her eyes showed how the comfort of sleep was one which had long since left her, contrasting the impossibly ghostly pallor of her deathly white skin. The only colour in her face was the blood still lingering beneath her nose.
Anyone could see that she was falling apart. The only shadow of her strength lay twisted in the bun which still stood tall atop her head, yet one loose strand which had fallen across her ivory face foretold its demise. Miss Cackle could not help it as the tears fell across her face. She could see the pain in her posture, how her hands were curled into fists with knuckles whiter than snow in a last attempt to fight the agony. The desperation, the longing to try and keep everything together emanated from her like an aura calling out for someone to release her from such a terrible imprisonment.
'Oh God,' she whispered, 'oh Constance-'
'Don't...just don't,' pleaded the younger witch. 'I can't bear it.'
'Why didn't you show me this before?'
'How could I?' replied Constance, opening her heavy eyes with reluctance. 'And anyway what would you have done about it?'
'I would have done anything, anything that I could; how long have you been keeping this a secret?' Amelia asked in awe.
'I've lost count of the days,' admitted Constance. 'I don't know exactly. A month, maybe two I couldn't say for certain. The problem is that I don't know what this is, so I...I don't know how to fight it.'
'Could we not find someone, a healer or-'
'No,' Constance interjected quickly, her dark and flashing eyes catching the headmistress'. 'I don't need everybody knowing what is wrong with me and besides, I know almost as much about magical illnesses as any doctor could. I've looked in every book, studied every symptom tried every potion – none of it works, not even in the slightest.'
Amelia shook her head defiantly, unable to accept the defeated undertones of her deputy's words.
'You can't go on like this. How can you be happy living in this way?'
Constance gave a small and bitter laugh, one which pulsed throughout her entire body and strengthened the dull ache which never seemed to leave. She really didn't know...
'Amelia,' Constance said kindly, 'I haven't been happy in a very long time; I can't remember the last time that I smiled and actually meant it.'
'But that isn't what is important here,' she finished quickly.
'It's the most important thing in the world,' Amelia told her sadly, taking her trembling hands in her own. She was met with no resistance.
'Not to me,' Constance lied.
Without so much as a warning, a pain which burned with the intensity of a newborn star shot across Constance's abdomen. It felt as though she was dying, such blinding agony seeming to remove her from the confines of consciousness to plunge her into the depths of uncertainty and darkness. Instinctively she doubled over, removing one of her hands from Amelia's grasp to lie across her burning stomach. With the other she held tightly to the only steady thing in her life, her truest friend.
'Constance!' screamed Amelia, holding on tightly to her deputy's hand which seemed to desperately cling to hers as she battled her inner demons. Constance had screwed her eyes shut and could not help but let a dying scream escape her trembling lips. Every time her body began to fail her, it felt more and more like the final battle. Now more than ever, she wished that it was all over.
Eventually, after what could have been a lifetime, the pain relinquished its hold and receded, leaving behind it the full knowledge that it could, and would, return at the drop of a hat. Breathing heavily, Constance felt the world return around her. She could hear Amelia talking quickly to her, though her words were muffled by the ringing in her ears, and could feel the bench supporting her weight once more.
Managing to open her eyes, Constance looked at Amelia.
'Please,' begged Miss Cackle, 'please...let me help, I'll do anything. I cannot stand to see you in this way; there must be something that I can do.'
Constance shook her head.
'You c-can't help me,' she whispered, her voice lacking any true conviction.
'Then why did you show me? Why did you ask me for help?'
'Because...' She couldn't bear to finish the sentence. The truth was that it had been because she was desperate. Hanging on to such a terrible secret had taken almost as much of a toll as the mysterious infliction, an illness which made its presence clear and yet refused to conform to any typical ailment. But how could she say that? She had already fallen apart before the only woman she could trust. She would not lose her dignity to her as well; at least not until she was beyond hope itself.
'I'll do anything,' Amelia offered, tears spilling down her face like an authors words across a blank page. Her love defined her, made her stronger, yet now it felt so strong that it could overcome her.
'I need you,' breathed Constance slowly, 'to give me time.'
'Time?'
'Yes,' she explained. 'I need you to make sure that the others don't find out about this. They cannot know until I have it under control, but before I know what is happening there is very little that I can do.'
Amelia opened her mouth to argue, but closed it once more. She realised what Constance was really saying. It was not just that she needed someone to cover her tracks for the others, but that she needed somebody who understood, who knew what was happening and would know why she acted as she did. She needed an ally, but more than that a friend and someone to turn to. She needed help, but she could not bear to ask for it in all of its shameful vulnerability aloud.
'Of course,' Miss Cackle agreed, 'anything that I can do...but on one condition.'
'Yes?' Constance asked tiredly, rubbing her aching forehead with her free hand.
'You have to rest, for at least an hour.'
'Oh Amelia I-'
'No buts!' insisted the elder witch. 'You need some time to get yourself together, and now is the perfect time to do so; nobody will even notice that you are gone.'
'I am perfectly fi-' Constance started, attempting to stand up from the bench to prove her strength. Conversely, she failed to hold even her own dwindling frame and felt all of the blood in her body rush to her head. Everything went dark.
Amelia ran to Constance just in time to catch her, watching hopelessly as the eyes of her deputy fluttered closed. She was barely the weight of one of the students, less perhaps, with her ribs visible even through the thick velvet of her dress. Miss Cackle gently sank to her knees to lay Constance on the floor and brushed the loose hair from her eyes. With a flick of her wrist, she removed the dried blood from the young woman's face and took her freezing hand.
'It will be all right,' she whispered, 'I promise.'
Xxx
With great difficulty, Amelia performed a number of enchantments over Constance's body and her own. She had never realised how great the magic needed to transport living people was; she wondered how Constance managed it every day. They appeared in Constance's bedroom, her inner sanctum which was never to be breached yet now seemed purged of all purpose.
Amelia carried Constance with far too much ease to the bed and lay her gently over the covers, conjuring a cashmere blanket to keep her warm. She fastened the rattling shutters closed to keep the storm at bay, though she feared that even such ferocity of nature would not wake the helpless beauty before her.
If only she knew how much I cared for her, thought Amelia sadly. Perhaps then she would not be so guarded, so cold; she is because she feels that she has to be, only she doesn't...
Squeezing Constance's hand one more time, Amelia left her in peace wiping the tears from her eyes and hoped to God that there was an answer, as she had only questions.
Xxx
The storm was the perfect cover. She was asleep. The ideal chance to show her, to tell her, to begin it all. It would take less than a second and nobody would ever know; of course she would never tell. She was too secretive, to ice cold to trust anybody else.
It would begin tonight, as the cold cruel laugh echoed in the bedroom. It would begin.
Xxx
Amelia stood outside her office with one hand on the wooden door, bracing herself before she went in. She had cleared her expression of the emotion which was still destroying her beneath the surface; perhaps she and Constance weren't so dissimilar after all. The only difference was that she hid hear fears with a smile instead of a harsh word. Breathing deeply, she pushed the door open hoping that a few hours of dull paperwork would take her mind off things.
'Oh hello Miss Cackle.'
Amelia gasped aloud before weakly smiling.
'Sorry Adelina, I did not realise that you were in here,' she said kindly. Adelina had been sitting at her desk looking out of the window, her hands playing with a gold necklace around her neck before she noticed the headmistress come in. Rising to her feet, she walked slowly closer to Miss Cackle.
'No no, it's my fault,' she admitted. 'I just wondered if I could ask you something?'
Amelia looked deeply into those unfathomable eyes and saw nothing, not even a flicker of emotion behind them. She controlled her expression and words with an almost pre-rehearsed perfection; it was close to an inhuman trait.
'Of course,' Amelia invited, moving around Adelina to sit at her desk. She wanted to be in control at least on rank of authority within the school.
'I...it's rather delicate,' she said softly, looking down at her feet for a moment.
Amelia heard something in her voice that made her question her earlier judgement. The woman who had been so unwilling to give anything away, even a hint of her true self, seemed to be wavering before her. When their eyes met again, they were not the shimmering veils of concealment that they had first appeared. The glimmer was gone, replaced by the watery eyes of a woman deeply frightened by something. For the first time, Amelia could see into her soul...and it was crying out to be heard.
'Whenever you are ready,' offered Miss Cackle gently, letting her own facade slip a little as her guard began to fall.
'It's...it's about Constance,' Adelina explained. 'We talked, before in the dungeons, and I told her everything - yet she seemed so very unwilling to listen.'
Because she had other things on her mind, thought Amelia sadly.
'I thought that she would be able to forgive me, but I don't think that she can,' confessed Adelina, a solitary tear breaking free and falling across her unspoiled features.
'I believe that with Constance, everything takes a little more time than with other people,' the older woman said wisely. 'Constance wouldn't give up on you. You are her sister and she was very upset by what happened all those years ago, but she feels hurt knowing that you have lied to her and kept things from her...It is not something that she likes to admit to, being hurt.'
'Yes, I suppose,' agreed Adelina. 'She seems so different to how she was when we were children. Something changed her, and I don't think I could bear it if it was all down to me.'
Amelia pondered a moment and made a careful decision.
'I think that your supposed death did affect Constance, of course it would to any sibling, but I do not believe that you are her only demon.'
'What do you mean?'
The elder witch sighed.
'I mean that a lot has happened since you have been away. I don't know much more than you do, but Constance might open up to you.'
'She can't even bear to look at me,' whispered Adelina sadly, averting her gaze shamefully once more.
'She will eventually,' assured Amelia softly, 'trust me, she will.'
'May I ask...' started the headmistress after a moment.
'Why I did it?' finished Adelina.
'Yes.'
It had been playing on her mind, the one question which seemed to evade all answers.
'Because I had to,' the younger woman admitted quietly. 'I was going to do it, to kill myself because nothing else in the world seemed to matter, but it must have been my magic that saved me. It was as if it was in tune with my soul. It knew that, deep down, I didn't want to harm myself so when I fell my landing was cushioned. I survived the fall, but I knew that I couldn't just come back.'
'Things had changed, they weren't how they used to be with Constance gone. I thought, I hoped, that they would be able to start again without me. I had always been the burden, holding Constance back from her true potential and forcing my parents to tend to me when I should have been able to take care of myself. I wanted my own life, a life where I didn't depend on anybody and I was a burden to no-one.'
'But why did you wait until now to see her?'
'I have thought about it every day,' Adelina smiled, 'and every day I have thought of coming back, but I knew that she wouldn't be able to forgive me. When I saw her name on the assignment, the school's name, then I convinced myself that she would be able to see past the lies and see, well, me.'
Amelia walked over to Adelina, whose lips were trembling, and put a reassuring hand on her arm.
'It will be all right,' she assured the younger witch, 'you just need to give it time. This is only the first step, and whilst you are staying here there will be plenty of chances for you to work out your differences.'
'Oh but I don't want to intrude-'Miss Cackle shook her head.
'I insist,' she commanded. 'You have to stay anyway whilst the storm subsides and you can take as long as you need to sort things out with Constance; I dare say that it will be good for her.'
'Well if I am here, then perhaps I could help?' Adelina suggested.
'How so?'
'I have a little teaching experience; not much, but enough that I could be of some assistance if I were ever needed.' Miss Cackle gave her arm a gentle squeeze and smiled, one of the first genuine smiles she had given all day.
'That would be wonderful Adelina, thank you.'
'I better go and see if Miss Bat and Miss Drill need any help,' she said, wiping her eyes vigorously. Her eyes were shining again, yet now they held a hint of vulnerability; it made her human.
'Thank you, Miss Cackle.'
'Please, call me Amelia.'
'Thank you Amelia.'
As she left, Amelia felt her heart rest a little lighter in her chest. She had worried about the impromptu arrival of someone who had been missing for twenty years and the devastation it seemed to cause, but having seen the side to Adelina that she wished Constance herself would relinquish she could not deny that the younger Hardbroom was just as innocent as any of them. Her bright smiles were the same as Constance's mask, something to hide her fears and something which she used to make other people trust her.
For better or for worse, it had worked on the headmistress.
Xxx
Blood...so much blood. It tainted the walls, great pools spreading across the floor like river water breaking its banks and flooding the surrounding land. It sparkled in the silent sunlight, grotesque and yet beautiful at the same time. A laugh broke the silence, and something too muffled whispered in an ear as the bright sunshine faded to darkness. The final darkness.
Xxx
Constance jerked awake, feeling sweat tickling her forehead. Her body was heavy, a dull ache pounding with every beat of her heart, yet she could not deny that even a short period of disturbed sleep was a luxury. It made a difference, for now at least, and she would make use of it.
Dragging herself to her feet, she felt shame overcome her as she realised that it must have been Amelia that had brought her to her room. It had been hard enough to show her even part of the truth, and now she had given away the untempered nature of her plight.
Constance knew what Amelia was trying to do. She wanted to mother her, to help her and tell her how everything was going to be all right; it never would be. Letting go of her secret was admittedly somewhat of a relief, but no matter how much anybody tried to help it was still her burden to bear. Only she could know how she felt, the emotions which pummelled at her heart until she could hardly stand it anymore.
She was screaming, yet no-one could hear her. Small things, insignificant things, would sometimes give her away; a harsh word where it wasn't needed or a moment stood staring at seemingly nothing as she wondered about an uncertain future. Yes Amelia knew what was happening to her and she thought that she could help, but there was nothing that she could do. This was her battle, but she was losing. Even Constance could recognise, if only for her own acknowledgement, that she could not win.
Breathing heavily, Constance reached to the uncomfortable knot which was still tied on top of her head; it was starting to come loose. Giving in to it, she released her hair from its ties and let it cascade down her back.
With a wave of her hand she conjured a mirror on the baron stone wall and flinched as she took in her own reflection. She looked into the glass and saw the shadow of a girl she had been twenty years ago, locked in a room with no-one to turn to and nowhere to go but the depths of the dungeons every day where Mistress Broomhead would wait for her. Time travelled in circles, it seemed, and now she was that frightened little girl again with everything to prove and everything to hide; the only difference this time was Mistress Broomhead's presence.
Unable to face her past staring back at her, Constance lowered her head to the ground. It was then that she noticed something glint in the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a small metallic object beside the bookcase barely visible in the dim light. Unsteadily she ambled over and bent down, feeling the cold metal against her fingers as she held the object in her hand.
As she straightened, she opened her palm to see what had fallen to the ground: it was a key. No longer than a matchstick and as light as a silver feather, it stared at her willing for her to uncover its meaning. She did.
Constance's hands began to shake. The key crashed to the floor, a sound which shattered the silence surrounding it and fractured it into a million pieces, too many to put back together. Constance stared at the place where they key had been, as if it had left a mark on her porcelain skin. It all made sense to her now, she finally understood. Well, she could at least understand why.
Reaching a trembling hand to her mouth, she realised that tears were forming in her eyes. She let them fall. What else could she do? What power had she to stop them? Whatever her meagre hopes had been before, now Constance knew that there was no way out. There was nothing which could help her - no spell or potion, no kind word from a friend. Her life had ended, already written off like a worthless memory disguarded to nothingness.
She was in awe. After all this time, she had almost managed to forget yet now the truth crashed over like waves on a midnight beach. Flashes of memories which she had tried so desperately to dismiss came back to her, taunting her with impossibly vivid clarity. She would never be free.
Still in a state of shock, Constance moved back to the mirror; there was that girl again, staring back at her and reminding her of who she really was. She could pretend for however long she cared to, but this was her true self; frightened, alone and worthless.
Constance brushed her hair behind her ears and watched the tears fall across her pathetic face. She had to replace the mask which had shattered, yet it was further now from the truth than it ever had been. She raised her hand, holding it an inch from her face and allowing her magic to cover the scars, the dark circles and the bloodshot eyes; something was wrong. Her fingers recoiled as they burned, searing white hot with pain. This was her punishment. No longer could physical torture appease whatever was tearing her apart, but now she had to suffer for the only thing in life she was proud of.
She cast again, slowly covering her pain whilst creating it anew. Constance felt, as she cried, almost as if she deserved it. She deserved the pain for what she had done, for what had been done to her; it was all her fault. And now she would pay the price.
Xxx
Adelina walked into the dungeons to see Miss Drill and half of the third year mopping the floors to try and drain the water still left from the storm's flooding.
'Anything I can do to help?'
'I think that we are just about done here actually,' Imogen told her, 'though I think that Miss Bat might be able to use some help in the broom shed. Some of the brooms are trying to get out of their hut and fly away from the storm like birds flying south for the winter!'
Adelina laughed, her eyes entire face lighting up as her eyes sparkled.
'Of course, I will go and help her in a moment. Have you seen Constance at all?'
'No I'm afraid that I haven't,' Miss Drill admitted. 'It's been a while actually, I wonder where she has got to.'
'Oh I'm sure that she has a huge pile of work to do somewhere,' smiled Adelina, yet not quite as powerfully as before.
'I don't suppose that you've noticed anything, Miss Drill?'
'Regarding what exactly?'
'Well,' explained the younger woman, 'I can't quite put my finger on it. I know that we clashed when she arrived, almost expectedly, but she seems...I don't really know. Distant I suppose. As if she's hiding something.'
'She has had a lot to cope with, seeing you after all this time,' offered Imogen. Adelina nodded in agreement.
'I know what you mean,' she said, 'but I'm protective over her you see. I want us to start again, but she won't let me. I thought, at first, that it was just me, but now I think it might be something else.'
'Like what?' asked the PE teacher.
'A secret,' whispered Adelina, so as not to be heard by the other students, 'something which she wouldn't even tell her own flesh and blood. All I can tell is that something is wrong, and it is taking its toll. Has she seemed any different at all these past weeks?'
Imogen thought back, of comments made in the staffroom with hushed tones and Amelia's concerns. Was Adelina onto something? Miss Cackle had certainly been worried about Constance these past few days, perhaps longer. In truth Miss Drill had only suspected a disturbance with her colleague, but now something churned uncomfortably in her stomach. Something which felt much graver and darker than anything she had thought of previously.
As though she knew the precise moment in which to appear, Constance materialised before them causing both women and many of the girls to jump in her wake. She hovered a foot or so above the still drying ground and had her arms folded with a look of dissatisfaction on her face.
'Are we close to finishing up down here Miss Drill?' she asked tiresomely.
'Y-yes, Miss Hardbroom, just a few more minutes,' Imogen replied, her heart beating as she wondered how much the powerful witch had heard.
'At least someone is being of use today,' Constance muttered, mostly for her own benefit. She was trying her best to seem normal, making an appearance for nothing more than appearances sake, but it felt all wrong. Without warning, the invisible force keeping her in the air seemed to fail and she had to steady herself as her feet landed hard on the floor.
'Are you all right Con?' Adelina squeaked, unable to hide her concern as she watched her sister wobble unsteadily, fighting to regain control.
'Perfectly,' Constance assured her, yet she could not even gather assurance in her own tone of voice. She could feel it, the strangest of sensations pulling her physically from where she was standing. Her magic was betraying her for the first time in her life, and she feared that if she didn't get out of the dungeons soon then she would need to be carried; she couldn't bear that again, it was too much.
'I'm sorry,' she said hurriedly for one of the first times in her life, 'but there is much more to do before this place is habitable again. If you will excuse me...'
With that she vanished, not completely of her own free will, leaving a stunned Miss Drill staring open mouthed at Adelina.
'See?' The young witch whispered, twiddling the gold necklace around her neck nervously between her thumb and forefinger.
Xxx
Constance appeared on the landing outside her room, clutching her chest as she gasped for breath. Her body forced her to double over, the ache of standing straight too much to bear. It felt as though something else had control over her. It had brought her to this place, used her own magic to transport her there, and now was close to bringing her to her knees.
Amelia.
She couldn't return to her room. People would look for her there if...if anything were to happen and then she would be discovered. No. She needed to find Amelia, to tell her to keep the others away whilst she tried to get herself together; it was the only way she could be sure that her secrets were left uncompromised. That...and she really needed a sympathetic ear: a friend. Everything was such a mess.
Constance staggered along the corridor, one hand across her burning abdomen and the other supporting her frame against the wall. Every step felt as if it took a hundred years yet brought her no closer to where she needed to be. For minutes at a time she was rooted to the spot as darkness clouded her vision, threatening to take over.
She could feel her magic smouldering inside her, a rogue flame burning brightly at another's hand. It was almost easier for Constance to fight everything else and everyone else trying to inhibit her, but fighting her own magic was something too devastating for even her to bear. She had dealt with many things in her life, but being forced to question her own origins, her own life and her own purpose, was beginning to defeat her.
In a fraction of a second, Constance's magic took hold of her physical form and shattered it into a thousand pieces, pulling each across the castle at its will with her powerless to stop it. She appeared at the top of the stairs which wound down from the vacant girls dormitories to the corridor beside the dungeons. Her mind flashed back, her eyes forced to watch herself being pushed to the floor by the manifestation of her darkest nightmares.
'Stay down where you belong,' hissed Heckitty. 'You are worth nothing, a pathetic shadow of a girl...you should wish that you had never been born; it would have been kinder on your family.'
Constance could not recall what she had done, yet as she snapped back into reality she flinched a little remembering how she had received the pearly white scar which ran across her back.
She knew what was going to happen before it did. The pain came over her like a hunter's net pinning down a defenceless animal. It pushed her to the brink of her capabilities, the very edge of what it was possible for her to stand, and the darkness returned if just for a moment.
Breathing heavily, Constance forced her eyes open. She had only the energy to say one more thing before the inevitable occurred.
'Amelia...'
She fell.
Like a graceful ballerina, her body went limp as her fragile form succumbed to whatever was bending it to its will. Gravity took hold as she fell through the air, pulling her closer to the sickening crunch of flesh meeting stone. Constance's mind was floating, detached from what she was forced to watch happen to her yet feeling every movement and every pain as if she was reliving it a hundred times over. Her weak ribcage crashed against the unyielding stairs, her legs twisting and a trail of scarlet like a royal's red carpet unfolding in her wake.
It only ended when her porcelain head smashed hard against the floor, her body sprawling elegantly after her over the tarnished red ground. The darkness came. It was more than welcome. Her head cradled in a pool of the deepest ruby red, she was allowed to sleep without a dream though every second of it brought her closer to what she feared the most. Her spells faded, her magic receding for now yet lingering to await instruction; for now it would do nothing more than force her down further into the darkness and ensure that she slept, floating in a sea of agony and slowly drowning in its depths.
Constance's eyes closed. Her breathing was slowing, her battered body bruised with the most beautiful shade of purple against the deathly white.
A lonely tear slipped from its weakened ties.
She was alone.
Sorry for another minor cliffhanger, but well I had to stop it there really! Would love to know what you thought so anything would be helpful. As I said unsure when the next will be but it is coming! One day...
Thanks and hope you enjoyed!
HBR
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