Chapter 60 Backlash
Aurora's POV
The clock struck midnight as I knelt on the floor of my room, arranging the materials in a precise circle around me. Elara's hair, stolen from her hairbrush weeks ago, lay coiled beside a scrap of fabric I'd cut from her discarded clothing. The black obsidian dagger gleamed in the candlelight, its blade etched with runes.
My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the crude cloth doll I'd sewn together, its blank face somehow more sinister than any carved expression could have been. I pressed Elara's hair into the fabric, whispering the binding words.
"Anima ad animam, corpus ad corpus, vinculum aeternum..."
The doll began to glow with a sickly black light, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. The air in the room grew thick and heavy, pressing against my skin like invisible hands.
I raised the obsidian blade and recited the forbidden incantation. "Per tenebras et dolorem, per sanguinem et lacrymas—"
The doll suddenly burst into flames.
Black fire consumed the cloth and hair, but instead of burning away to nothing, the flames seemed to turn inward, concentrating into a point of absolute darkness that hurt to look at. The energy reversed course in an instant, slamming back into me with the force of a physical blow.
Pain exploded through both my arms as if someone had flayed the skin from my bones, the burning agony racing up through my shoulders and into my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except feel the magic tearing through me like broken glass in my veins.
"Ahhhh!" The scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it, high and sharp and completely beyond my control.
I clutched my arms to my chest, watching in horror as black and purple bruises bloomed across my skin like poisonous flowers, the marks spreading from my wrists to my elbows in jagged patterns that looked almost like burn scars.
Footsteps thundered in the hallway outside my room, multiple sets of them running toward my door. Panic cut through the pain as I realized what was about to happen, and I scrambled to hide the evidence of what I'd been doing, my burned arms screaming in protest with every movement.
The charred remains of the doll went into the hidden compartment under my bed first, followed by the obsidian dagger and the candles I'd been using. My hands shook so badly I could barely work the mechanism, and I'd just managed to slide the panel back into place when Damian's voice cut through the door.
"Aurora! What's happening in there?"
I opened my mouth to answer but another wave of pain stole my breath, leaving me gasping and unable to form words. Maple's frantic barking joined the chaos, her claws scratching at the door with increasing urgency.
"Aurora, answer me!" That was Ryan's voice now, younger but no less concerned.
I tried to stand, tried to make myself presentable, but my legs wouldn't support my weight and the room spun sickeningly around me. I heard the door handle rattle and knew I was out of time.
The door burst open and Maple shot through the gap like a furry missile, her eyes wild and her teeth bared in a snarl I'd never heard from her before. She crossed the room in three bounds and slammed into me with all her weight, knocking me backward before I could even raise my hands to protect myself.
I fell hard, my already weakened body unable to catch itself, and my forehead connected with the sharp corner of the bed frame with a sickening crack. The impact split open the skin along my hairline, the wound that had been slowly healing from the magical backlash now tearing wide open, and I felt warm blood begin to trickle down my face.
"Ah!" The second scream was shorter than the first but no less genuine, driven by the fresh pain layering over the burning agony already consuming my arms.
Damian appeared in my vision, his face torn between concern and something that looked almost like suspicion. He reached toward me but hesitated, his hand hovering in the air. Behind him, Ryan moved carefully around the chaos to grab Maple, pulling the still-snarling dog away from me with gentle but firm hands.
I touched my forehead with shaking fingers and they came away red, the blood flowing more freely now that I'd disturbed the wound. The cut ran from my hairline down to the middle of my forehead, the edges ragged and already starting to swell, and I could feel the skin pulling apart with every small movement of my face.
"It hurts," I whispered, letting tears spill down my cheeks because the pain was real even if the cause wasn't what I wanted them to think. "My face..."
Damian's voice was careful, controlled in a way that set off alarm bells in my mind. "What happened, Aurora?"
I made my voice small and broken, letting it shake with just the right amount of fear and confusion. "I don't know... Maple just... she came in so fast and I..."
Ryan's frown deepened. "Are you saying Maple did this to you?"
I immediately shook my head, widening my eyes in what I hoped looked like earnest protestation. "No, I didn't mean... I know she's Elara's dog, I wouldn't blame her for anything, I just..."
James kicked Ryan's shin hard enough to make him yelp. "Look at the evidence, idiot. Maple's paws are completely clean, and that wound doesn't match a dog attack at all."
Damian leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied my forehead with the analytical precision I'd once found attractive. "He's right. Claw marks would be multiple parallel scratches, not one single laceration. This looks more like... like something split open from the inside."
"Or like she hit her head on something when she fell," Ryan added, his tone shifting from concern to something cooler, more distant.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized my mistake, the way I'd tried to subtly implicate Maple without directly accusing her, and how transparent that manipulation must have looked to them. I scrambled to backtrack, to salvage what I could from this disaster.
"You're right, I'm sorry, I was just confused from the pain." The words tumbled out too fast, too defensive. "I fell and hit the bed frame, that's all. Maple just startled me, she didn't hurt me."
James's voice cut through my excuses like a knife. "Then why did you specifically mention that Maple 'came in so fast' when we asked what happened? You were trying to make us think she attacked you without actually saying it."
Silk suddenly reported in my head, "Ryan's Favorability: -15 points, Current: 25 points."
Damian stood up, his expression unreadable as he looked down at me. "I'll have the family doctor come take a look at that."
The warmth that used to color his voice when he spoke to me was completely gone, replaced by the same polite distance he'd use with a stranger. Ryan and James exchanged glances that spoke volumes about what they were thinking, and none of it was good for me.
The doctor arrived twenty minutes later, a stern-faced woman who examined my forehead with clinical efficiency and no sympathy whatsoever. She cleaned the wound with something that burned almost as badly as the magical backlash still throbbing through my arms, then pulled out a small metal device I recognized with growing horror.
"The laceration is quite deep," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "I'll need to use wound closure strips and possibly surgical glue. There will likely be a scar."
The word "scar" hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs and replacing it with ice-cold panic. School started in less than two weeks, I'd be facing all those students and professors with a visible mark running down my forehead, a constant reminder of tonight's failure and humiliation.
Then, Silk replorted again, "Damian's Favorability: -10 points, Current: 50 points. Ryan's Favorability: -5 points, Current: 60 points."
I looked at Damian desperately, waiting for him to offer comfort or reassurance the way he used to, but he just stood there with his arms crossed and watched the doctor work. No gentle words, no promises that everything would be fine, nothing but that same cool distance that made me want to scream.
The doctor finished her work and packed up her supplies, leaving behind instructions for wound care that I barely heard through the ringing in my ears. Damian walked her to the door, and I heard him murmur something I couldn't quite make out, his voice low and serious.
When he came back, Ryan and James were already heading for the door, neither of them looking at me. Damian paused in the doorway, his expression still carefully neutral.
"Get some rest. School starts in less than two weeks, you'll need to be recovered by then."
Then he was gone, taking Ryan and James with him and leaving me alone in the wreckage of my own making.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror across the room. The wound on my forehead was covered in strips of medical tape, the edges already bruising purple and yellow, and when I pushed up my sleeves I could see the black and purple burns from the magical backlash spreading like poisonous vines up both arms.
Everything was falling apart. Ever since Elara came back, my position in this house had been deteriorating day by day, and everyone's attitude toward me was growing colder with each passing week.
This was all her fault. My jaw tightened until my teeth ached, hatred burning hot and bitter in my chest.