Page 84 of Blinding Light

But fear had slid in the cracks of his heart. He was scared that she too, never wanted him.

The day dragged on and Cyprian spent most of it inside hishead. Quiet and concentrated, he stayed in the back of the class, behind his canvas. When the final hour arrived, Professor Dai invited them to improvise and let their inspiration flow. Archer once more joined his group. He sat next to Cyprian, pencils dipped in water, his colours ready to mingle and form shapes. “You had a good day?”

“Yeah.”

Archer didn’t pry any further.

He didn’t have to either, because the moment Cyprian’s pencils touched the white sheet, his mind was once more in apartment C. The pull was so intense, it made breathing hard. Pressure rose to his head and his mouth fell open in a silent plea. Right when he thought his head was going to explode, everything stopped. He exhaled on a ragged breath, his body shuddering. And then he felt like he was floating as he went through the run-down place, in search of something—anything—that could place him there. A memory to confirm that the place had once been his home.

There was nothing there. Nothing…

But they were still going down. He was no longer in the apartment, but somewhere else.

Stairs. So many of them. His mind had shown them before. A chill ran through Cyprian’s body. Suddenly, there was a door, and it opened with a creak, revealing an inky-black space.

And a…there was a?—

“Cyprian?” Archer’s soft voice a gentle hum. A small shake on his shoulder. “Cyprian! Where…how?—”

Cyprian’s mind rattled as the image fractured, the black hole scattering into countless tiny pieces as it disappeared from his mind. Once the fog was lifted, Cyprian realized he was staring into Archer’s wide, grey eyes. “Huh?”

Archer frowned and shook him again. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Cyprian brushed a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, and blinked. He took in their surroundings. Theywere sitting in the classroom, tucked in the far corner, backs against the wall, hidden behind their canvas. “I?—”

I can’t remember anything.

He shook at the thought.

“You were very quiet.” Archer held out his bottle of water and watched as Cyprian took a few gulps. “What was that place?”

“What do you mean?” Cyprian shivered. “Yousawwhat I saw?”

“Your eyes…they turned gold. But they reflected stairs? And then you started drawing.” He used Cyprian’s hand to touch his canvas, stroking his fingertips over the freshly made shapes. “There. I think you drew what you saw.”

Hedid that?

Cyprian stared at the drawing, astonished.

“Fucking amazing, right?” Archer smiled. “Is that something you guys do in Tulniri?”

“No,” Cyprian choked, eyeing his charcoal composition with horror. Awareness crawled through his skin, momentarily paralyzing him with fear.

“Hey.” Archer squeezed his wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I—” Cyprian swallowed. He’d once more created a small, dark room with a low ceiling and an obscure atmosphere. “I’m fine.” But his mind was filling with words. With this newfoundbeliefthat something was settling inside of him.

Could it be Dariux?

Cyprian glared at his drawing. He needed to find out why he kept on drawing that room. Squinting his eyes, he peered closer at the tiny, forlorn smudge of black that sat in the middle of the room. For the untrained eye, it wasn’t more than a smear of charcoal, but he knew what it represented. A person. And they were trapped inside that room.

His mother?

Ludo Fandi had stated that he hadn’t seen her for a longtime, but it could have been an untruth. He could have lied, and Cyprian had believed him immediately. Had believed a man who had openly rejected him, had disgraced him, had broken his dreams.

A wave of anger spilled out. Perhaps it would have shocked him if it didn’t feel so good. Because Ludo Fandi deserved all of Cyprian’s anger. He had thrown him away. If Cyprian found out he had also lied about his mother, he would go after him.

Yes, he’d been afraid to go back to the apartment. Had been afraid to face his mother after what his father had said. And perhaps Celia Fandi had never wanted him either. But nothing would be worse than not knowing. Taking the word of that asshole.

---