Chapter 2: The Truth I
Xylaraea's POV
The Council leader's words seared into my mind like a branding iron: "You are not gifted." As I walked home, the gray sky mirrored my mood. Rumors spread like wildfire, drawing curious glances from passersby. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, anger and frustration simmering inside me.
My parents' lies felt like a betrayal. All those years, they'd spun tales of our magical heritage. Now, it seemed like a cruel joke. I thought of the countless hours spent poring over dusty tomes, practicing spells that would never come to life. The weight of my disappointment grew with each step.
My fists clenched; I felt like a failure, a shadow of what I'd expected to be. How could this happen to me? What was the point of all my hard work? The questions swirled, a maddening vortex that left me breathless.
As soon as I entered the house, I slammed the door, my anger boiling over. My mother's eyes met mine, filled with a mix of concern and understanding. She knew what had happened.
"Why?" I demanded, my frustration spilling out. "Why did you let me learn about magic? Why did you tell me we came from a magical lineage when you knew I wouldn't have any?"
My mother's expression shifted from concern to pity, and that look only fueled my anger. I didn't want her sympathy; I wanted answers.
"You lied to me," I accused, feeling betrayed. "You made me believe I was special, that I had a gift. But it was all a lie."
My mother's eyes filled with tears, but she remained silent, unable to defend her actions. That silence was worse than any words. It confirmed my worst fears.
The pity in her eyes made me feel like a child, vulnerable and powerless. I didn't want her compassion; I wanted the truth.
"Xylaraea." My mother whispered my name, but I stared her down, my eyes unyielding. She couldn't meet my gaze.
My father, who had been silent until now, stormed towards me, his face reddening with anger. His finger jabbed at me accusingly.
"Get hold of yourself!" he thundered.
I stood my ground, defiant. "How can I?" I shot back, my voice trembling with rage. "You both lied to me! You made me believe I was special, that I had magic. And now... now I'm a laughingstock."
My father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with warning. "Xylaraea, calm down."
"But you don't understand!" I yelled, my emotions boiling over. "Do you know how many people were there? How many saw me fail?"
My father's face turned purple, his voice rising to match mine. "I don't care about that! You need to control yourself!"
"I won't calm down!" I shouted, tears streaming down my face. "You lied to me! You made me believe in something that wasn't real."
"Calm down, Xylaraea, you should calm down!" my father thundered, his voice echoing through the room.
But I refused to back down. "I won't calm down," I defied, my voice trembling with rage. "You're my parents, but that doesn't give you the right to deceive me."
My father's face reddened, but I pressed on. "I am your child, too. You owed me the truth, not lies that made me a spectacle in front of a thousand people."
Tears streamed down my face as I confronted him. "Why did you humiliate me? Why did you make me feel like a fool, a liability?"
My voice rose to a shout. "You should have told me the truth!" I stood firm, unyielding.
I sobbed uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. My father's anger dissipated, replaced by a hint of remorse. His expression softened.
"I wanted to tell you," he said, his voice gentle, "but your mother refused. She didn't want you to know."
I trembled, sensing a revelation.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"Our family doesn't have magic," he confessed, his words shattering my heart.
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "What do you mean?" I stammered, shock etched on my face.
My father's eyes filled with regret. "We based our relationship with you on the idea that our family had magic. We didn't want to break your heart by telling you the truth. We thought it would be easier to let you believe."
I reeled, stunned. "So you lied to me?" I whispered, pain lacing my voice.
My father nodded, his expression sorrowful. "We didn't want to hurt you."
But the truth hurt more.
I stood frozen, my eyes wide with shock as my father's words hung in the air. "We don't have magic in our family." The truth cut deep.
All those years, the prayers, the rituals, the countless hours spent honing a gift I never possessed—the weight of deception crushed me.
Anger ignited within me, burning away my shock. I felt stupid, deceived, and hurt. How could they lie to me?
Without a word, I turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind me. Tears blurred my vision as I fled, my heart racing with rage and betrayal.
The world outside seemed distorted, tainted by the lies I'd been fed. I couldn't shake the feeling of being a fool, manipulated by those I trusted most.
My feet pounded the pavement, driven by a mix of emotions. How could my own family deceive me so thoroughly?
As I sprinted through the village, I noticed the villagers' gazes upon me. Their faces were etched with pity and curiosity, and a collective whisper seemed to follow me.
And then it hit me—the news of my non-magical status had spread like wildfire. Why wouldn't it? I had proclaimed my fake abilities to a thousand people.
Anger surged within me. Now, everyone in the village knew my secret. Even my fellow trainees, those I had sweated alongside, were aware.
Their sympathetic stares felt like daggers, piercing my already shattered heart. I quickened my pace, eager to escape the suffocating attention.
Shame and humiliation pursued me, their heavy footsteps echoing through my mind: "No magic, no magic, no magic..."
I needed solitude, a refuge from the whispers and gazes. Where could I hide?
Seeking peace, I went to the woods to clear my head. As I ran, my anger faded.
In the quiet forest, I accepted the truth: I had no magic.
With newfound strength, I returned to the village, but my home was on fire!
Flames destroyed our house, erasing my past. Smoke filled the air, and ashes fell like lost dreams.
I stood frozen, shocked and horrified. Why did this happen?
Neighbors watched in dismay. Some tried to help, but it was too late. Our home, memories, and secrets were gone.
My family—my father, sister, and mother—were trapped inside the burning house. Flames engulfed every window, and smoke poured out.
I rushed toward the inferno, desperation overriding fear. "No! Please!" I screamed.
Neighbors grabbed me, holding me back. "You can't go in there!" they shouted.
But I struggled, frantic to save my loved ones. The heat intensified, and flames licked the roof.
I screamed, rushing toward the fire, desperate to save my family. But everything was lost.