For a moment, she had thought of risking telling her mother, or perhaps her friends? But she'd quickly abandoned the idea, as there was no way she could approach them with her problems. And even if she would have eventually done so, convinced that she had nothing to lose, to discover the reason for her dreams and her purpose, she sincerely doubted that any of them would know the truth. At worst, the others would think she was nuts, or that she was putting on an act. It was the only thing she was really sure of.
A deep, unknown place somewhere in Ivyne's soul was aching and spreading. And if she were truly honest with herself, then she would recognize that this strange pain was accompanied by fear. Fear of having to become someone who would have no choice but to submit to a destiny for which she had no attraction, where she would have to become someone else in order to fulfill it and finally be rid of...him. And whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, it would be terrible and inevitable.
And the girl was right. As time went by, the boy's presence intensified and deepened. It had even become so strong that the young girl no longer understood anything, nor was she able to tell the difference between dream and reality. These fantastic visions had completely invaded her existence, to the point of taking away everything, even her smile.
She had never had the slightest chance to escape or forget. It was impossible, right from the start. And then one evening, her nagging visions began to take shape in her body and had become pure curse.
It was her birthday, and the day passed slowly, then came night. She could smell the night, a starry night filled with mystery, a warm wind blowing from the northern horizon, soothing the earth. The sultry air, heavy with smoke and incense, mingled with the scent of flowers from the trees planted along Independence Lane.
At first, the young girl had thought it would be an ordinary evening, in every way. For the first time since the moment this unknown prince had appeared, she had not been disturbed by any vision. She thought it might be because of her birthday, that he knew about it and wanted to spare her on this special day for her and her family. She'd believed it. How naive. And she had no idea what awaited her in the end. The sun had left for its long night's sleep, and the atmosphere was humid. Everything was beautiful and lively, familiar, and it was probably normal to love one's city so much. This city, which for the first time in her life, she was going to hate.
While Mom negotiated for the price of a toque ring, Ivyne watched with a kind of tenderness some of the scenes she was used to. The workers who, after a hard day's work, would gather around a glass; the smell of that awful drink they particularly liked oozed with strength, which amused the young girl greatly. The children played the old-fashioned game known as “the branch game”, in which they had to collect as many branches as possible and make something out of them. Normally, the most beautiful would win, but children and rules usually made two...
Contemplating her surroundings, to which she was so attached, the young girl felt great joy wash over her until dark emotions wiped it all away. Yes, she had been imprisoned for so long in this infernal circle this being had imposed on her that she felt more alone than ever.
She couldn't even accept this little moment of recapture, and to try and distract herself, forced herself to imagine the many gifts her mother would inevitably give her.
She felt as if all clarity had forever deserted her life; nothing was natural anymore. And just as this magical being had made her realize and reproach herself, Ivyne was incapable of realizing that everything that had made up her existence could one day fade away. It's true that it was very difficult to see a whole period of happiness come to an end, to witness this end, to be unable to stop it, to feel powerless, precisely because there was no choice. It was cruelty.
For this birthday, which was different from all the others, the young girl and her mother were going to celebrate together until the morning, and welcome her coming of age as it should be.
Her mother returned. She had apparently decided to buy the ring, whose finish was sublime, but she had also bought something else.
When her daughter saw her second acquisition, she tensed as if a snake had just bitten her, but her mother, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort at discovering the object, stood in front of her and, with a smile full of tenderness, placed it gently on her head. A tiara.
Mouth half-open, a shattering wave seeming to stir within her, feeling as if she would never catch her breath again, the young girl thought she would die. Yes, she was sure she'd seen this scene before, but it wasn't her mother standing in front of her, no, it was someone else, a man? The face as blurred as that of this fallen magical prince. He convinced her of his love before placing the diadem on her, smiling and...
She could bear the burden of such a memory no longer, so she shook her head, and screamed inside, then a gigantic wave of fire suddenly shot up around them and immediately dispelled the memory as people, including her mother, screamed in shock and terror. The fire lasted a long time, so mother and daughter moved away, leaving the firemen to do their job, but the sea of flame was not extinguished until it was ready to be.
Once the moment of shock had passed, Mother recovered like the optimistic woman she was, and even amused herself by thinking that this inexplicable, flamboyant phenomenon would make a good story and even represent the “baptism of fire” for her beloved daughter’s coming of age.
As she and her mother strolled arm in arm along the busy streets of stores with illuminated signs, Ivyne thought she liked the night, because nights seemed to allow all possibilities, and carried secrets in their veil. But now that she thought about it, now that these visions were an integral part of her life, of herself, she wondered if it wasn't the day she hated.
The sun.
A being she hated and feared more than anything.
And in a way, it also reminded the young girl of her own father, a discreet man with a truly endearing sense of humor. He had this eloquent affinity, this fabulous gift for glimpsing the truth even in the most complex and almost impossible situations, this great ability to know things as they were in all their authenticity, no matter how ugly or strange. As her daughter, Ivyne had long hoped to inherit her talent and be able to use it as she wished.
But the irony was that, had she known, she would have cursed herself for ever having wished for such a thing. Everything went to hell from that moment on, and Ivyne didn't realize what really mattered until much, much later.
It was now ten o'clock, and Ivyne and her mother were continuing their walk. She was aware of the admiring glances she was receiving, and felt flattered, almost flirtatious. Her tight black jeans and sleeveless indigo silk top showed off her slender body and feminine curves. Her mother was dressed in the same way, which made her look even younger, if possible, leading most people to believe that she was her older sister.
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