Page 96 of A Simple Truth (the Freckled Fate #2)

95

QUEEN INSANARIA

T he cobble streets of Svitar’s Slums were pleasantly empty as the shadows slithered between my steps; the metal heel of my boots clunking against the worn-out stone as I walked down the rotten parts of the city. I motioned with my hand to the empty flower pots lining the dirty window displays, and black, poisonous thorns slowly sprouted out of them. “There, much better,” I muttered to myself, sauntering further.

I hated coming to Svitar, the ‘city of fucking light’. Here in the Slums, it was nothing but scum, filth, and gloom.

I hated Svitar. But I especially hated the Slums.

Somehow, even after thirty years, it still hadn’t changed a bit.

This wretched fucking city. It would never learn how to change, how to adapt; just a vicious cycle of poverty and pain. A cycle that carved life out of you before you could even know the meaning of the word.

My eyes stalked a particularly narrow street as I paused my stroll, stopping in the middle of the road. There, at the end of the path, stood a tall orphanage, miserable and soul-crushing as ever. I glanced to the second floor of the building, to the small, round window, just as dirty as I remembered it.

I had spent days staring through it, while shadows squabbled over my soul, eventually devouring all the light within, as I spent my youth rotting little by little there.

However, when I had given this place a chance to change, an offer of redemption, they rejected me instead. My gaze lingered on the building and though I couldn’t see the small alleyway behind it, a harsh smile rose to my lips.

There, I had learned of my powers as my first bleed came.

There, I had also become a woman.

I leered, reminiscent of the memory. I was so naively in love.

Love . I scoffed. Such a pretty word for such an ugly feeling.

At least, I thought it was love. I thought it was, until he brought his friends along for the ride.

A lone man had whistled at me, interrupting my dreadful, painful memories. I didn’t bother giving him a look as I motioned with my hand once more, and large, black spikes pierced through his throat, killing him in the blink of an eye. The last few drunks remaining with any semblance of consciousness rapidly scattered. Welcoming terror spread in the air as they sobered up.

I returned to the drowning memories, moving like pictures in my mind.

There, amidst the shadows in that small alley, hurt and broken and so damn betrayed, I had spent hours laying against the cold, slimy ground. Shaking and crying, as blood mixed with males’ seed ran down my bruised legs. I was so young, barely fourteen; my powers only began to sprout a few months prior. But the beautiful vines I used to summon were powerless against this cruel world.

I walked down the street until my feet paused by an older, well cared for shop. With a seamless gesture of my hand, the sharp, black spikes undid the lock and opened the door.

The wind chimes of the Silken Arrow rang, alerting the owner to my presence.

“Hello, Insanaria,” Laviticus uttered bitterly as I removed my hat.

“Long time no see, Laviticus.” My lips stretched with a crooked smile.

“What do you want?” he cut dry, and I admired his bravery. For a scarred little creature, he was courageous.

“No regard for an old friend of yours?” I asked.

“We stopped being friends a long time ago,” he responded, his voice stern, his blood shot eye staring at me with such unprovoked disgrace.

“Oh, that’s right. Though, remind me, did we stop being friends before or after you had betrayed me to that bitch, Railin?” I smirked at him, pulling my long gloves off, stuffing them into the wide pocket of my canvas pants. My eyes scanned the room, cautiously taking it in. Laviticus was known for his hidden talent of making things go undetected.

“I supported you for years, Insanaria. I shared your convictions, but I think you’ve long lost the path.” The traitor spoke at last.

“On the contrary, my convictions haven’t changed at all. The only thing that has changed is my ability to execute them. But now that we are talking about the past…Where is the Basalt Glass dagger you stole from me, little man?” I interrogated, as the giant black thorns now scaled the walls, slowly breaking the glass displays and ripping through the rolls of fabric.

“They will stop you.” His voice was laced with such vile condemnation.

“Oh, they are definitely trying to, aren’t they?” My cold chuckle echoed off the crumbling walls, my eyes observing as large, thick spikes took over the small, stuffy space. “The young are always so full of hope and dreams... We were like that once, weren’t we?” I let out a long breath. “It is almost inspiring to see their dedication, their passion.” The poisonous thorns now slithered closer to his feet, but he didn’t move. “I have to say, Laviticus, hiding in plain sight, just to the right of the orphanage, was ingenious. You’ve always known how much I hated that place. I just never thought you’d stoop so low. But I guess fool me once shame on you, fool me twice—”

“It’s not too late to change, Insanaria.” He now almost begged as his face twisted in agony, thorns cutting deep through his scarred flesh, down to his curled bones.

“I’d hate to be the cliché villain and give a long speech before killing you.” I tilted my head, watching as thorny vines gradually choked him, each prick more poisonous than last. “Though, perhaps we are prone to speak in these moments because it is the only time we are being heard. The only time our voice isn’t being stifled, and our words aren’t being dismissed.” I let out a cocky laugh. “I guess I’m giving a speech after all. But Laviticus, I want you to know that I am going to change. I am going to change the world, the universe, this entire existence. You just won’t be around to see it.” His bloodshot eyes blinked at last as he died an agonizing death, black thorns ripping through his limp body, tearing him piece by piece.

“Hmm.” I took another look around the shop, my thorns making way for me as I went upstairs to his room, searching for the one-of-a-kind dagger. A frustrated scowl surfaced on my face as I found the empty chest padded with purple velvet, outlining its shape and yet, there was not even a hint of my blade. Completely fucking empty.

Bitter disappointment surged within me, my shadows swarming around with cold fury, but I calmed them. My eyes landed on the two, large, Basalt Glass arrows across the room. Sneering, I grabbed them both.

“Await a bit longer, my child,” I whispered before walking through the black shadows into the abyss.