Small flowers poked through the morning mists, dotting the gray and muted greens. I reached toward them, twisting my fingers, running harder to catch them, but they still remained too far. Each step forward pushed them deeper into the magic I wasn’t allowed to partake, allowed to gather and wield.
“Fauna!” My mother called for me, her voice cutting out as the magic of the mists distorted it. She knew I was here, knew what I wanted. Knew why I couldn’t have it.
If only she’d tell me.
I pushed harder, running faster, desperate to catch the source of all my desires. My lungs begged for relief, sucking in air to fuel my desperation. The scent of lavender was overwhelming, clinging to me, taunting me. But each step was another failure.
Even nature’s magic knew I wasn’t allowed, that it was all wrong.
My mother could command it though. My mother, the fae who fell in love with the daemon. The woman who birthed a curse.
The magic laughed at me.
I screamed into the mist, demanding it accept me. Darkness swirled inside my body, the magic of my father, growing more powerful with each curse I threatened. The lavender scent disappeared, replaced by soot in my mouth, smoke in my lungs, then fire spewed from my skin, devouring my clothing and engulfing the mist around me.
The small flowers shriveled into ash, their greens charring.
If I couldn’t have it, then no one could. And I let it burn.
For more enchanting Wednesday Words by other authors, check out the official Wednesday Words page!