▸ The Weight of Warnings: Chapter 11

The stillness in the small room enveloped them like a heavy fog, thick and palpable. This silence was not a serene one; it was steeped in fatigue, punctuated only by the gentle, rhythmic breathing of two souls entwined in slumber. Ivy, worn out from the strain of staying alert, had finally given in to sleep. She had been leaning against the wall, her arm a delicate barrier around Violet's curled figure, but now they lay together, limbs tangled beneath the soft lavender quilt. The first tentative beams of dawn began to filter through the curtains, casting a soft, muted light across the room. It was a moment of domestic peace, a fleeting escape from the chaos that always seemed to linger just out of sight. 

In an instant, with a disconcerting jolt, everything around Ivy vanished. As her eyes fluttered open, she was not met with the familiar sight of her cracked, eggshell-tan walls, but instead faced a vast, suffocating expanse of white. The Unbound Realm had ensnared her once more, its vast emptiness closing in like a heavy shroud, a blank canvas of infinite, maddening void. A groan slipped from her lips, a sound tinged with deep exhaustion and frustration. She scanned the endless, monotonous landscape, yearning for this to be nothing more than a nightmare. She tried to rouse herself from this state, but the white remained, a silent and unyielding tormentor. 

A soft voice, echoing like distant chimes, drifted down from above, "You seem agitated."

Ivy's eyes shot upward, her heart pounding in her chest. There, impossibly radiant against the stark white emptiness, stood Amritkala. The Goddess's sapphire blue skin glowed with an ethereal light, while her long, flowing hair cascaded like a waterfall of shimmering starlight, a celestial stream that defied the surrounding void. Her eyeless face tilted downward, a disturbingly serene smile gracing her lips—an expression that felt far too tranquil for such an eerie scene.

A wave of exasperation washed over Ivy, pushing back the initial surprise. "For fucksake," she muttered under her breath, raking a hand through her dishevelled hair. "Why the hell am I here again already? It hasn't even been that long since our last pointless chat…"

Amritkala's voice floated through the air like a gentle breeze, effortlessly breaking the silence that surrounded them. It felt as though she were right beside Ivy, her words wrapping around her like a warm embrace. "Ivy," she murmured, the name a tender invitation. "I've been thinking of you lately. You've occupied my thoughts quite a bit." 

Ivy reacted without hesitation, her tone laced with irritation. "Look, you're not exactly my favourite person, so spare me the niceties and just say what you need to say." She folded her arms tightly, her unease evident to the goddess standing before her.

Amritkala, unfazed by the obvious hostility, her head tilting ever so slightly. "You've made a new friend," she stated, the words carrying a soft, almost playful lilt. 

Ivy's body tensed up. "And?" she snapped, a defensive wall springing up around her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

A soft, gentle laugh, as light as dandelion seeds, slipped from the goddess's lips. "Oh, it's really nothing significant. It's just... refreshing. You've been on your own for so long that I began to worry you might have forgotten how to connect with others." 

Ivy frowned, her cheeks flushing with heat. "Is that what this is about? You dragged me here to talk about Violet?" 

"In part," Amritkala spoke softly, her voice carrying an unsettling calmness. She leaned in closer, her impressive stature folding into a delicate cross-legged position before Ivy, exuding an air of elegance. "But there's a more… pressing matter at hand, wouldn't you agree? Something new has stirred within you, a power you've only just begun to recognize. You feel it too, don't you?" 

Ivy hesitated, her expression a mix of confusion and defiance. "If you're referring to that... that strange incident," she began, her voice steady but laced with uncertainty, "I honestly have no clue what happened. It was all so surreal, like something out of a dream or a movie. I've never experienced anything like that before."

 slow smile spread across Amritkala's face, a look that somehow managed to be both knowing and deeply mysterious, intensifying Ivy's frustration. "Ah, yes," she purred, as if discussing a fascinating specimen under a microscope. "The paralysis… the vivid hallucinations. A rather captivating ability, wouldn't you say?"

Ivy's response was immediate and sharp, verging on a bark. "Captivating? Are you insane? It was utterly terrifying! I have no idea how I did it, or why it happened. Normal Semi-Immortals don't have—" She clamped her mouth shut, biting her lip so hard it nearly drew blood. "—abilities like that," she finished lamely. 

Amritkala repeated the phrase, "Normal Semi-Immortals," as if savouring the taste of the words on her tongue. "Is that truly what you believe yourself to be, Ivy?" 

Ivy glared at her. "You tell me. I've got a hundred lives, which is weird enough, but I heal like a Low Rank. And now this… thing? What am I supposed to be, then?" 

The Goddess let out a soft, musical laugh, her eyeless face tilting skyward. "Oh, Ivy, you are asking the wrong questions."

"Then what are the right ones?" Ivy snapped. Her patience was wearing thin. "Why can't you just give me a straight answer for once?"

Amritkala's serene demeanour didn't falter. "Your ability, dear Ivy, is not a gift or a curse—it is a reflection. A mirror, if you will."

"A mirror?" Ivy repeated, her voice dripping with scepticism. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Amritkala spoke with an unsettling calmness, "That your power reveals concealed truths. For those you face, it brings to light their deepest fears and the darkest parts of themselves—elements they find hard to accept. For you, it reveals the strength you usually keep under wraps and the deep resilience that resides within you. It represents both illumination and shadow, a fusion of harmony and discord."

Ivy stared at her, dumbfounded. "That's the most convoluted load of rubbish I've ever heard."

"Is it?" Amritkala tilted her head, the faintest hint of amusement in her tone. "You see, Ivy, this ability of yours requires a connection—a meeting of gazes, a confrontation of truths. It is not merely a weapon but a dialogue, a dance between you and your target. The question you must ask yourself is not how it works, but why it chose you."

"Why it chose me?" Ivy repeated, her voice rising. "That's not an answer! That's just more cryptic nonsense. Why can't you just tell me what it is?"

Amritkala's smile softened, and for a moment, she seemed almost… sad. "Because, dear Ivy, some truths cannot be given. They must be discovered. Your path is yours alone to walk, and the answers you seek will only reveal themselves when you are ready to see them."

Ivy clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "You're bloody useless, you know that?"

The Goddess let out a soft laugh, her form beginning to blur slightly.

But before she fully dissolved, she paused, her eyeless face tilting down toward Ivy. "Do not dismiss Violet's role in this so quickly."

Ivy froze, her frustration giving way to confusion. "What's Violet got to do with any of this?"

"Violet," Amritkala said, her voice soft yet unwavering, "has a rare gift. She offers you something you have long denied yourself: a chance to heal. Not just from physical wounds, but from the past you carry like a chain around your neck."

Ivy's eyes narrowed. "You're talking in circles again. Heal from what?"

"From yourself, Ivy," Amritkala replied, her tone almost pitying. "You have spent so long running from your fears, your guilt, that you have forgotten how to trust—even yourself. Violet can help you remember. She is more than a friend; she is a bridge. Through her, you may find the strength to accept your past and, in doing so, understand your ability."

Ivy's jaw tightened. "You make it sound so bloody simple."

"Simple, yes," Amritkala said, her form beginning to blur again. "But not easy. Be warned, Ivy: your fears of the past will try to creep into this new connection. Do not let them poison what you have with Violet. This friendship of yours has the potential to become something invaluable. Protect it, and it may guide you to the answers you seek."

Before Ivy could respond, the white expanse began to dissolve, the edges blurring like a watercolour painting left out in the rain. Amritkala's form vanished into a wisp of blue light, and Ivy felt herself being pulled back, the sound of her alarm clock dragging her into the waking world.

⋯ 

Ivy groaned as she opened her eyes, her hand instinctively slapping the alarm clock to silence its piercing beep. Her head pounded, and the faint memory of Amritkala's voice still lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest.

"Great," she muttered, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Just what I needed."

It was only then that she noticed the weight on her legs. Blinking, she looked down to see Violet, her bleach-blonde head resting against Ivy's thigh, her small frame curled under the lavender quilt. She was fast asleep, her breathing slow and even. 

For a moment, Ivy just stared, her expression softening despite herself. She wasn't used to this—to someone depending on her in a way that felt… safe. A faint smile tugged at her lips, and she let out a quiet sigh before carefully shifting. She grabbed a nearby pillow, lifting Violet's head gently and sliding the pillow beneath it so she could slip out of bed without waking her.

Ivy, finally free, made her way to the corner of the room where her school uniform from the previous day was carelessly tossed in a wrinkled pile. With a small grimace, she picked it up, swiftly removing her shirt and trousers before putting on a slightly less wrinkled pair that was draped over the back of a chair. 

Once dressed, Ivy bundled her dirty clothes under her arm and slipped out of the room. She padded down the narrow hallway, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards. The house was eerily still, and the faint scent of cigarettes lingered in the air. She dumped her laundry into the overflowing basket near the bathroom and headed to the kitchen.

Opening the cupboards, she grimaced. A near-empty box of cereal and a carton of milk sat on the counter. She inspected the carton, wrinkling her nose when she saw the date. "Figures," she muttered, pouring a cautious sniff test. It wasn't fresh, but it wasn't off either. Beggars can't be choosers.

She poured what little cereal remained into two mismatched cups, topping them off with the dregs of the milk. Balancing them carefully, she returned to her room, nudging the door open with her foot.

"Oi," she whispered, setting the cups down on the floor beside the mattress. "Violet. Wake up."

Violet stirred, her nose scrunching as she burrowed deeper into the quilt. "Five more minutes," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

Ivy snorted. "We don't have five minutes. Get up before Clive or Diane start banging about."

Reluctantly, Violet sat up, her hair sticking out in every direction. She rubbed her eyes, squinting at Ivy like a disgruntled cat. "Mornin'," she said groggily.

"Morning..." Ivy replied with a soft smile.

Dawn broke softly as Ivy reclined against the wall, basking in the warm embrace of sunlight that poured into the room. Her gaze fell on Violet, who continued to nibble at the dubious cereal, and once more, she was taken aback by the girl's petite frame.

"Hey," Ivy said after a moment, her voice softer than she intended.

Violet blinked up at her. "What?"

Ivy paused, her fingers tapping gently on her knee. "Last night, we talked about my family and all its problems, but what about yours? Is there anyone out there searching for you?"

Violet shrugged, her gaze dropping to her cup. "Not really. I've got... people I used to stay with, but they're not exactly family. Not like yours." She glanced around the room, taking in the cracked walls and mismatched furniture. "Well, sort of like yours, I guess."

Ivy's jaw tightened, but she didn't press. The mention of family always felt like a splinter under her skin, one she could never quite dig out. Instead, she stood, stretching her arms above her head. "Right. We've gotta get moving if we're gonna make it through today." 

"Through today?" Violet asked, setting her cup aside.

"Yeah," Ivy said, reaching for her worn-out leather jacket draped over the desk. "You can't just hang about here all day. Diane will have your head the second she sees you."

Violet frowned. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"You're coming with me." Ivy didn't meet her gaze, pulling the jacket over her shoulders and adjusting the cuffs. "I've got school. You can hang near the grounds or whatever. Just stay out of sight."

The younger girl's face lit up slightly, though she tried to hide it. "You mean it? You're not just gonna leave me here?"

Ivy shot her a sideways look, one corner of her mouth twitching upward. "What, and risk you nicking all my stuff? Not a chance."

Violet grinned despite herself and scrambled to her feet, smoothing down her oversized shirt. She looked up at Ivy, her expression tentative. "Thanks... for not kicking me out last night. I know I'm probably a pain in the ass."

Ivy snorted. "You've got competition for that title." She gestured toward the door. "C'mon. Let's get going before the vultures wake up."

Ivy stood still, her heart racing at the soft echo of footsteps coming from above. Diane was already alert, wide awake. If she and Violet didn't make their escape soon, they would find themselves caught in yet another angry storm.

"Get your shoes on," Ivy muttered, yanking her own worn trainers from beside the door.

Violet scrambled to obey, fumbling with the laces of her too-big boots. The shoes looked borrowed—scuffed, patched in places, and clearly meant for someone older and taller. 

Ivy pulled her trainers on without untying the laces, her movements practiced and brisk. In contrast, Violet struggled with her boot laces, tying them with some difficulty. With a swift motion, Ivy snatched her school backpack, unzipped it, and crammed her wrinkled blazer inside, pushing it down far enough to keep it from creasing any more.

"You're bringing that?" Violet asked, glancing up as she finished with her laces. And quickly grabbed one of Ivy's hoodies. 

"I have to," Ivy grunted. "Dress code. Stupid, but whatever." She slung the bag over her shoulder and grabbed her keys off the counter. "Let's go before Diane comes downstairs."

Violet nodded, her movements quick and jittery as she put on the hoodie and followed Ivy out the door.

The two slipped out of the terraced house as quietly as possible. The morning air was crisp, biting against their exposed skin as they stepped onto the narrow street. Rows of identical brick homes stretched out on either side, their chimneys puffing faint trails of smoke into the grey sky. Ivy led the way, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets. The faint click of her keys jingling with each step was the only sound she made. Behind her, Violet trailed close, her head swivelling as she took in the unfamiliar street. 

"You always walk to school?" Violet asked, breaking the silence.

"Not much choice," Ivy replied. "Bus costs money, and I'm not exactly rolling in it."

Violet nodded, her footsteps quickening to match Ivy's. "What's it like? School, I mean."

Ivy glanced at her. "Boring. Mostly full of idiots. But it's better than being stuck at home."

"It doesn't seem so terrible," Violet murmured softly, yet Ivy could sense the wistfulness woven into her words.