"What does that mean?" Ryder asks, moving until he stood between Violet and her mother. Violet blinks in surprise at him, her younger brother moonlighting as a protector. As her protector.
Against an opponent they never expected. "You both have an orb." Her mother whispers. "It holds a piece of your Fielien soul. I have hidden them in case either of you were ever pickpocketed, or taken—"
"What the fuck do you mean you have a piece of our soul?" Violet demands, stepping forward. Her mother squares her shoulders, unphased by the anger radiating off her daughter. Whispers breathed in Violet's ears, demanding retribution, demanding blood to be spilled. She shudders, humming softly in an attempt to drown out the noise that only she appeared to hear. A strange look passes over her mother's face.
"Whoever holds your orb holds control over you. Complete control. It isn't something I trusted two children not to lose." Her mother adds harshly.
It was Ryder who spoke, Violet focused on the soft tune she continues to hum. "If you had told us as kids, that we had a physical piece of our soul we would have guarded it with our lives." A pause. "Have you controlled us?"
"Never." Her mother answers with fervor. "I hid them. The danger you would be in if someone were to take your orb—"
"Someone did." Violet snaps, the voices whispering in her ear gone. "You."
"I'll give them to you. Both of you." Her mother gazes at them sadly. "I only wanted to ensure they never were lost or taken. But you're right to be upset. I never should have hidden this from you."
Violet didn't point out that her mother seemed to specialize in secrets, choosing instead to cross her arms as she watches her mother disappear into the bedroom she shared. After a moment she returns, a soft gasp escaping from Ryder. Two orbs, no bigger than a coin, glowed in her mother's hand. One was gold and the other, dark silver.
Violet knew immediately which one was hers.
"I wrapped them in leather." Her mother handed the orbs to her children and Violet felt her body ease tension she hadn't realize she had been carrying as if she was reunited with something intricate, something she didn't even realize she had lost. "You can wear it around your necks or hide in on your person. Keep them from view. If someone takes hold of your orb, you are better taking a knife to your heart." The severity in her mother's eyes made Violet shiver and she looped the leather around her neck, the orb falling underneath her tunic.
"Where is yours?" Ryder asked.
"Tied around my thigh." Ryder grimaced but didn't comment further.
"What else are you keeping from us?" Violet challenges. "What else have you lied about?" Her mother closes her eyes, as if she couldn't bear to look at the anger radiating off of her children.
"This is all I can tell you." Her mother finally answers.
"Can or will?" Violet presses, heat licking her words. "It sounds like more secrets." "Certain paths require lessons and knowledge that you must find on your own." "Bullshit." Violet storms to the door. "Violet if you leave now, you will be caught, and we will all die!" Her mother yells urgently.
Violet pauses. "Sounds like another lie." "Vi," Her brother whispers.
"It is a path I have seen." Her mother answers softly. "Please." Staring at the door, her way of escape and knowing it would be her death, Violet had never felt more trapped in her life. She turned, pushed past her mother, and headed into her room.
"Don't come in tonight." Violet snarls before slamming the door.
***
Violet found herself in the middle of a beautiful maze, sunflowers stretching in every direction past her head. Magic orbs floated above a stoned walkway that led through the maze, illuminating Sinclair, his artic blue hair looking green in the hue.
"I noticed the hair on my neck stands up when you're here." Violet steps forward as he began to speak, looking at him curiously. He didn't appear to be in pain, or emotional. He seemed smug if anything. "It's my magic responding to yours. Magic remembers and mine struggles to identified yours." He chuckled spinning around as he searched for her, but Violet's eyes dropped down, to his hand. Blood trickled out of his fist, watering the ground in crimson. She rushed forward, her only thought to stop the bleeding, grasping his hand in hers tightly.
He felt warm.
Sinclair jumped, looking down at his hand. As if his attention severed the connection, Violet's hand fell through, transparent again.
"It's nothing." Sinclair's typically seductive voice turned softer, soothing as he tucked his bloody hand behind him. "I think you're right. You can only see me when I am experiencing something strong, like pain." Violet could hear her heart beating in her ears, could feel the very earth below her feet shifting. "I've been holding these damn iron bits for over two hours, hoping you would come." He huffed a laugh, the pain he had been disguising showing in his eyes now. "Shit hurts like hell." Violet stared at him dumbfounded. Why in the gods names would he purposely hurt himself?
"I wanted to know if you were okay." He looked around desperately, his eyes always an inch over her head, swerving left and right. "I don't know how but today I saw you."
Violet took a step back, fear seizing her limbs at his words. "I was in a meeting, and it was as if I saw flashes in front of my eyes." He pauses. "I saw a man hurting you—squeezing your wrists. It was hard to make out, it…it was so quick. You—your hair is red, isn't it?" Violet's mouth went dry. He couldn't know who she was. She prayed to the gods that he didn't recognize the slums of his own kingdom, that he had never stepped foot in the market and saw a flash of red hair in the window of a bookstore. "I couldn't hear anything, gods I could barely see but…it was you, wasn't it?" Sinclair dragged his uninjured hand down his face, rubbing his jaw as his mind worked through his words.
"Will you just tell me if you are okay? And—and your name." Sinclair looked around again, his eyes pained as he clenched his fist tighter, and Violet realized his pain was keeping her tethered here. As soon as he released his grip on the iron bits, she would leave.
Part of her didn't want to. But she sure as hell wasn't going to tell him her name.
"It's only fair, that I have the name of the woman who called me Dog Boy." He grins and she cringes simultaneously. "What happened today. I never experienced it before." He continues, but Violet felt her consciousness slipping, noticing how pale Sinclair had gotten as he continued to squeeze those iron bits, smearing them into his blood. "I felt so much godsdamned rage at whoever was hurting you and had no idea how to help, all the while these idiots were talking about some feast." He growls low. "I can protect you." His hand loosened on the iron bits.
Violet opens her eyes, lighting the Fielien fire over her shoulder. She gazes down at her hand, the dim flicker of flame coating her palms.
After a while, she forced herself to the bathing room and washed the Wolf Prince's blood off of her hand, staring long after it had washed off.