Page 2 of Ruin
I walked back toward my four-poster bed when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes flitted from one disappointing feature to the next. My hair was thinning, and bald spots receded my hairline. Some of my teeth were missing, and a shadow of thin hairs sat over my thin lips. Angry, red spots covered my face, and scars and craters from popping them lay thick underneath. Heavy, tangled eyebrows weighed over my emerald-green eyes. I had talons for nails that I attempted to keep cut short, but no matter how hard I tried to correct my appearance, nothing changed.
My siblings were as beautiful as the next. It wasn’t fair, yet they weren’t really responsible for it. They weren’t the ones who had locked me away, and in all honestly, I didn’t know them very well. Perhaps I was making a mistake by punishing them. My father was the one responsible for keeping me up here. My gaze led to the grimoire. Had I gone too far?
Biting down on my tongue, I kept my scream behind tight lips. I wrapped my hands around my waist, doubling over as pain seared through me. “No, please.” I dug my nails into my skin, creating half-crescent marks in my flesh. Time passed slowly, each second delving me into further agony. I choked on each breath, and my lungs growled. My hands and feet prickled. Every inch of me was raw with pain. “I won’t stop.” I spluttered through waves of torment, then it stopped. Just like that. Tears fell from the corners of my eyes. I let out a long, shaky exhale when it finally subsided. I pulled my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth.
My master saw my regret as defiance, as weakness, and there was nothing he hated more than fragility. Even my thoughts were not my own.
A loud knock resounded at my door. The smell of beef stew wafted into my room. I jumped to my feet and wiped the tears from my face. I grabbed the ritual plate and shoved it under a pillow, then kicked the book under the sofa. I glanced around one last time, looking for obvious signs of blood before clearing my throat. “Come in.”
A servant with dirty-brown hair carried a silver platter.
“Over there.” I pointed at the little table next to my bed.
She nodded, left the tray, and hurried out. None of the staff ever made eye contact. Their orders were simple: don’t engage me in conversation. I’d gotten used to loneliness though, enough to enjoy my own company. On the instances I had been allowed to leave my room and walk the gardens, I would sneak to watch the nobles and ladies. That was when I had learned what a uniquely beautiful gift my father had unknowingly granted me; I liked myself. Most others distracted themselves with people, entertainment, music, food, and anything to prevent being alone. I wondered if they could see the truth, that the majority didn’t like themselves. They weren’t alone; I couldn’t stand them either. Seldom had I come across a good heart or seen a single person who didn’t come to life from gossip or kill over material things, but then, I’d only watched from the corners. Maybe up close, they could be different.
The stew smelled good, made with beef, gravy, potatoes, and herbs from the castle gardens. I noticed a few sliced carrots had been thrown in too. My stomach groaned in response. She’d bought me tea as well, honey and lemon, and four crackers on the side. It wasn’t much. The bowl was small too.
I snapped my fingers, picturing what I wanted in my mind and letting it float on the edge of power. When I opened my eyes, the crackers had turned into slabs of chocolate. I grinned. Mastering sacrificial and ritualist magic took time, but I was getting better at it every day. I was tapping into unlimited power, and not all of it required a spell. I could perform the same things my people did when they used elemental magic by channeling with relics or jewelry. It was only when my powers were meant to harm when I had to take more brutal measures, such as offering a soul.
I eyed the fireplace where I placed sleeping creatures for my next enchantment. So much bloodshed, but such reward. In the moments I caught myself wanting to leave it all behind, I was reminded of one truth: not one person had shown me kindness in my miserable life, except my master. Girls like me needed to fight and make power for herself. Practice made perfect, and I needed a lot of it if I was going to have enough strength to take the throne from Father, force my siblings into submission, and earn love from my people.
“To achieve all you desire, you must acquire the darkest of magic,”the voice whispered in my head, as it did every time my secret plot surfaced. “You know what you need to do.”
I squeezed my eyelids shut. He’d been tempting me for far too long, and I grew closer to toppling over the edge with each passing day.
I touched my cheek lightly and brushed my fingertips against my cratered skin. The offer was as tantalizing as it was dangerous. It would mean forming a permanent shadow on my heart. After all, taking a human life was the worst thing one could do.
“Knock, knock.”
Her voice made me jump. I jolted back, then kicked the book under the sofa again just in time. “Zalia.” I hissed. “My least favorite sister.” Her round, blue eyes searched mine as she stepped into the room. Her silky, black waves tumbled down her back, and her olive skin complimented her cherry-colored lips. She had inherited my grandfather’s sharp features.
“What have you been doing?” She looked around us both. “I smell magic in the air.”
“Eating dinner.” I gestured toward the empty bowl. “You know I don’t practice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, the lies.” Zalia plopped herself onto the plush blue sofa, knocking a pillow onto the marble floor. I grabbed it before she could bend down to retrieve it herself, then propped it behind my back. I sat on the armchair opposite her, tapping my fingers rhythmically against the arm. I glanced downward and spotted the corner of the book sticking out.
Zalia fiddled with a necklace. I recognized the brilliant shade of purple, which sparkled when the light hit it. My gaze hardened. “That’s mine. Mother gave it to me before she died.”
“Was yours,” she said, correcting me. “Father said I could have it, seeing, as you just pointed out, you have no use for it. What is the point in wearing a family relic if you’re not going to channel magic through it?”
I wanted to slap the smirk off her face.Tomorrow her face will be covered in puss-filled warts,I thought, calming myself as I watched her cross her legs and look around.
“You know what? It looks good on you.” A smile played on my lips. “You need something to distract from your awful personality.”
“Oh, come now.” She leaned forward. “Don’t be jealous.”
My face reddened. I grazed my fingers against the back of my neck. “What do you want?”
“Tell me what you’re up to. I can sense darkness in here. The others may not believe me, but I know you’re up to something.”
My heart was pounding, but I didn’t give anything away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shrugged my shoulders, then tilted my head back. “My paranoid sister.”
Her nostrils flared. “You don’t deserve to call me that.”
I scoffed. “You’re unfair.”
A stray lock of hair danced around her forehead, but she pushed it back. “The evil in you shadows this family. Whatever you’re up to, I will find out.” She pointed her finger at me. “We’re not children anymore.”
