The Loss of Innocence

“You will never see him again, do you understand me? I won’t let you… I won’t let them hurt you like Mama!”

Mother slammed the table, and I saw her beautiful nails chip off in ugly pieces. Her usually pretty smile was replaced by gritted teeth and the cold eyes of a butcher. I remembered the way she looked when she arrived, her beautiful smile as she greeted me warmly. But I realized, in that moment, the way her eyes held no emotion when she smiled at me. The way her smile faltered when she looked into my eyes, and the way her gaze avoided mine after.

“Mother…”

“What would you do if he asked you to marry him?”

Marry?! I would… I…

“Why are you askin’ me that? What does it matter— he’s my friend, and nothin' you do will change that! I’m too young to get married, anyway!”

Mother mumbled again. I could hear her saying ‘raised you wrong,’ and ‘nonsense accent.’ Ever since she showed up, Papa came home less often. I'm sure she must've pushed him away and blamed him for all my faults.

“I won’t let my daughter, my beautiful, precious blood, be tainted by a wicked sorcerer. I already have to accept your flawed face— those eyes that show his tainted blood in your veins!”

“His…?”

Mother walked around the table and pulled my face toward her with her hands. She caressed the space around my eyes with her thumbs, and I could see tears forming in her light blue eyes.

“That man… your father. He showed me his tricks, promised me a life of wonder and magic. We were happy… until he decided he no longer wanted me as a wife. ‘Too irresponsible,’ he said, ‘if the others knew about her, I'd be ruined.’ I won’t let him hurt you, I won’t let any of them hurt you.”

Mother shook me as she spoke. I tried to push her away, but her hands were too close to my eyes to risk blinding myself. I waited for her to finish speaking, and she started to cry. She placed her forehead against mine and closed her eyes. I squirmed as soon as she lessened her grip and pulled out of her embrace.

She screamed as I ran, and I fled out into the night. I hid among the piles of garbage near our house and watched the open door. Mother stepped out and looked every which way. There was a moment when I thought we locked eyes, but she retreated back into the house.

I ran to the farm where Papa worked and helped him quietly. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but I shook my head and walked away. I fed the animals and flopped down into a pile of hay. I drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotions that filled my queasy stomach.

~~

Months passed with an unnerving silence. I refused to look Mother in the eyes, but she insisted on continuing to care for me and the home. Papa didn’t have the guts to send her away, and I was afraid to say anything. The horrifying look in her eyes that day made me freeze whenever I thought of defying her.

I stayed away from the house as much as possible, preferring to work at the farm. I wrote letters to Matthias and sent them out before returning home each day. He often asked me what had happened that day, but I refused to say.

I supported him in my letters, but Mother’s words still rang in my mind. I was worried about what she meant, and I sometimes wondered how I felt about Matthias.

Mother… if Matthias ever asked me to marry him, I would. I won’t let you ruin the only friendship I've ever had because of your fears. Matthias and Father are not the same.

~

I walked home quietly one night after my fifteenth birthday. I held a letter close to my heart, one that would change the course of my life. I had saved enough from working at the farm to stay in the inner city and start studying at a school closer to the Sanctuary. I wanted to let Matthias know, and I wanted to see him.

Mother, this time… I won’t let you drag me back home.

“Finley…? There you are, you know someone’s been looking for you.”

I turned to the man I passed by every day on my way home. The barrel still stood beside his door, a reminder of the one I wanted to see most.

Looking for me… could it be…?

“Who’s lookin’ for me, old man?”

“Tch. You’re almost an adult now, and you still can’t talk proper? You young ones are always so disrespectful…”

The old man scratched the stubble under his chin and pulled out his pipe. I tilted my head and waited for an answer, an anxious feeling growing in my chest.

“A man was walking by earlier— said he was looking for a young woman with pinkish hair. You’re the only one around here who fits that description, so I pointed him in your direction.”

“A… a man? What did he look like?”

The old man scratched his balding head and rubbed his sweaty forehead. I lowered my hands and clutched the letter tightly.

“Tall, handsome fellow. Black hair, dark brown eyes. Kind of looked like you, now that I think about it.”

… Father?

I ran home without a thought, the already sore heels of my feet burning with each new step. The letter I prepared fell into a muddy gutter, and I hesitated before leaving it behind.

The front door of my home was left ajar. I mentally punched myself for not bringing Papa with me. I felt sick knowing that he would be at a tavern at this hour, drinking and chatting with the locals.

I foolishly rammed through the doorway and into the house. As I entered the kitchen, I witnessed a gut-wrenching sight.

“Hm? Oh, you must be…”

The man’s gratingly soft voice barely registered within my mind. He stood near a pool of still-moving blood, originating from the collapsed body of my mother. I clutched my throat and crashed back into a wall behind me. I struggled to regain my focus as I watched the blood reach his shoes.

“… my daughter, right?”

Who… why… Why is this happening?

“Ah, that’s not going to come off easily. Hmm. Luckily, they won’t find your bodies. You won’t try to run, right? I’d hate to kill anyone else.”

“W-why…”

The man shook the blood off his shoe and walked toward me with a carefree smile. I noticed an axe in the corner of my eye. I saw its dull blade; it had become that way since Papa left the Royal Army. The man who should’ve been my father held out his hand, as if to touch my face.

“Your mother knew a very dark secret, and with you, it would only become clearer. Sorry, little lady, but I’ve sacrificed too much to lose it all now. I’ll make this quick.”

As his hand touched my face, I felt my mind go dark. The last image I saw was the blood-stained corpse behind the table.

~

The outer city streets were quieter than usual. I could hear a light click coming from my heels and the soft, shaky breaths that escaped my lips. I stepped into the light of a nearby street lamp and leaned against it. I ran my hands through my hair and became aware of the amulet held in my left hand.

Right… this is… his. Is this what he killed her for? Is this… magic? It feels so… gross.

I held back the vomit rising in my throat and pushed myself off the lamp pole. I noticed a shaky light approaching from a distance, and a dark figure running beside it. His eager expression became clearer as he came into view.

“Fin… Finley! Is that really you? Thank goodness, I thought I’d be too late to catch you. The sun’s setting, so I thought you’d be home by now. I’m glad I caught you.”

That robe… that medallion, bearing her symbol. The same one on this amulet.

“I got the best news today, and I realized I couldn’t wait for a letter to tell you. The thing is… Queen Katherine thinks I’m a perfect candidate for her next Royal Mage! That means I’ll—“

“Get away from me.”

The teen’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but my gaze continually shifted back to the medallion at his neck. The bloody amulet held hidden in my hand seemed to burn with the stain of my memories.

I won’t become like her. I won’t let Matthias become like him. Mother’s body… those wounds… and the fire that shot forth from his hand as I struck him down…

“Finley…? What are you saying? Are you alright?”

“I’ll never be friends… with a no-good sorcerer.”

The pained look that painted itself onto Matthias’s face hurt me, but my fear and rage were stronger than my guilt. The light that shone in his eyes wavered, and I clenched my jaw.

“What are you… Is this because of your mother? Did she… say something? I’m not a dark mage, I don’t follow those practices— you know that!”

The slight laughter in his voice, although made without harmful intention, caused my anger to rise. I shook my head and stepped back, ready to turn and run at a moment's notice.

“Finley, wait. Please, you know me. You know I would never—“

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your excuses, your manipulations! Just go!”

Matthias's mouth twitched as he frowned. I turned away and began walking, although I didn’t know where. I’d barely taken five steps when I heard him call out to me.

“W-wait…!”

Another step.

“Finley, wait! I… I’m not going to be a mage anymore!”

I froze. I could hear him step closer, and I started to turn. I don’t know how to react but to look into his eyes and see the desperation clear within them.

“I… promise. Whatever's happened, you don’t have to be afraid or angry anymore. I won’t follow that path… I don’t plan to anymore.”

I felt something rise in my throat. I could feel my fingers wrapped around the amulet becoming numb. I bit my tongue and took a breath.

“This is what I want.”

Liar. Leave and be happy, without me.

I felt sick watching his mouth tighten to hide his lies. The shining light in his eyes that I admired seemed to be fading. I hated myself for feeling relieved by his decision.

“... Do you really mean it?”

“… Without a doubt.”

I ignored the guilt that burned my stomach and mustered a smile. As Matthias walked away that night, I noticed the blood on my boots. I never asked if he’d seen it; I was too afraid.

As the years passed, I noticed that Matthias’s eyes became hardened. The shining glow that I had become fond of was gone. He abandoned the Sanctuary and was forced to join the slums, taking on odd hunting jobs to sustain himself. I knew I was the only one to blame for his struggles.

Papa never asked what happened that night, or if I'd been there when the fire started. I let him believe that my mother and father perished by their own hands. I let that day become a deep, dark stain on my heart.