Page 46 of A Dusk Of Stars

It’s with such anger that he turns to me, lifting himself into a crouch. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

There’s a whimpering ‘sorry’ trapped in my throat, but the shock and the violent torrent of emotions are rendering me mute and motionless.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, I just keep standing there. Then I turn on my heel and start running straight back to my room.

Chapter 17

No matter what I do, I can’t seem to calm down, the image of Raven refusing to get out of my head even after hours spent trying to process it in the silence of my room. There was so much pain in those memories of hers, it makes me feel this overwhelming need to run back there, pull her into a tight hug and tell her she's not alone.

It's simply not an option, though. I'll have to apologize, sure, but I'll have to find some way to do it without getting close again.

Because this incident has made many new questions arise, but it has also made one thing clear — I've started getting too close to those two, too relaxed around them, and that simply won't do.

I guess it's a good thing that I at least have something to distract me. This is the first time I’ve managed to make any progress since I’ve started trying to do the rituals, and after today, Scorpio won’t be in the right position for another two weeks.

So as soon as the light outside my window starts dying down, I grab my shit and I rush outside, heading straight for the closest entrance into the Lycan Forest — the opening in the trees to the right of the foot of the Lycan Tower.

I enter the oldest, scariest woods I know, my determination taking a hit before I've taken a single step down the path weaving through the underbrush. Even on the sunniest day, I don't exactly like this place. There's something about it that makes me unsettled. I don't know if it's the strange silence that somehow persists despite all the sounds, the mind-bogglingly old trees that feel more alive than trees should, or that everything in here seems to always be breathing out, rustling, calling out to me.

Goddamn it.

I muster all my courage and I keep walking down the path until I reach a clearing with a river meandering through the trees.

It’s near the shore that I set the ritual stuff up. I sit in front of the bowl and candles, cross legged, and just sit there for a second.

Dusk is gathering all around me, and when I look up, there’s a web of stars starting to show across the darkening sky.

When I look down, I see them reflecting in the water in front of me.

I close my eyes, letting the remainder of the image explode into a universe filled with stars, some twinkling from far away, some burning like the sun.

It takes my breath away, when some of the stars connect into an image of a scorpio and all of a sudden, I hear the rush of water from the brook as if it were a waterfall crashing down on me.

Instead of the warm, fuzzy feelings of establishing a connection with a constellation, I get attacked by the image of Raven lying on the ground in the Junkyard and the question I’ve been asking myself ever since it happened.

Why did it feel like it felt when my mother would come to my room for me to comfort her, just with… Magic?

Before I can stop it, the single image of Raven turns into a torrent of images — of a book with no title, strange cities, eyes with burning fire in them, crowds of weirdly dressed people, the symbol, faces of people in pain... All of the pain feels so real, it’s like my entire being is caving underneath.

Still, none of it hurts as much as knowing it’s all my fault, the most suffocating wave of guilt and shame crashing down on me.

“Help,” I plead, trying to get in touch with my animal, but nothing happens, except for a sob growing in my throat.

I gulp and I grit my teeth, feeling this unbearable urge to make it all stop.

As if in a trance, I find myself getting up and approaching the river, getting to the shore and not stopping.

My eyes round in fear yet I still find myself slowly wading into the water, its sharp coldness sending a shock of pain through my body.

But it’s a relief, more than anything else, when I plunge myself under the surface and feel the first glimmer of hope in gods know how long — the promise of once and for all being lulled into nothingness.

***

It breaks the calming monotony and makes adrenaline surge through my body, when I feel something slide under my right arm and wrap itself around my waist. An arm. My eyes fly open, but before I can react, the grip becomes more aggressive, and the next thing I know, my body is lifting off the riverbed and my head is breaking through the surface of the water. My mouth opens in a desperate gasp for air, and I realize someoneis dragging me out of the river, a man whose chest my back is pressed into.

There’s the lizard brain exploding with joy, greedy for life, but the pain and guilt are so devastatingly overwhelming, even more so now that I’ve finally figured out how to make them stop, once and for all.

Just as the man reaches the shallow with his arm still tight around my waist — in the hopes of breaking myself free and diving back into the promise of nothingness, I start thrashing with my upper body, my legs kicking and my fingers clawing at the arm.

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