Once Upon an EraFall, year two of eight:“Alright little one’s close together now.” A birth-giving rendered character, with vivid silken skin, obscure uncombed hair compact into a braid, that falls past her rear, and dark oak eyes. In a magnificent maroon, linen-blend midi dress, square neckline and tie-fastening sleeves. Oriana Migorin, rounding both children close behind her through the streets. “Should we get her measured for the uniform first, gem?” Behind the rowdy ones a concrete stature, with slate thickset locks, long stubble outline, and auspicious golden eyes. Bulking under a mid-length tawny fall coat, charcoal button up, and smoky cotton dress pants. Regis Migorin, brisking over his daughter's transfer supply list. A tot size Jac in his other arm snoozing peacefully on his chest.The Migorin family stroll along the industrious Alcove Quarry main street. It’s usual festive charm has heightened due to mobilizing for the school year. Every family in every bloodline: clear, fog, and singe genes trotting around, hands full in all supplies. Little Lyra wasn’t as chattery as her older brother Fane. Whom was already year six of eight at Murkwan Prep; he’s had this routine ingrained to memory but his peppy character never flats. Yet even he knew that today was a big deal for his little sister. She has been homeschooled due to medical reasons. Up to this point her “outbursts” had subsided markedly. It wasn’t even an issue to even worry about, her parents were a hundred percent positive she’d have zero issues. As a matter of fact Lyra was a compressed surge of energy, glistening in sparkles of satisfaction. “I think that’ll be smart, I’m sure they’re swamped with other orders.” Oriana asserts, threading a path through weaves of assembled carts and families. “Lyra, take my hand.” she holds it out for Lyra to take it eagerly. At the doorstep of McCaullons' Threading Piece; a lofty wall of glass and apricot trim. Along the center of one side of the hustling street. The five were greeted loyally. The family head, clear gene, Slayer McCaullons, a scrawny man in a clown looking tailor suit. Was evidently piled with parchments of orders and measurements, he pauses as he sensed the presence of another clear gene. His coral orbs glistening with joy to greet his life-long friend. He rustles around the front counter, dropping all work. He takes Lady Migorin’s hand, plants a faint kiss, acknowledges their children, and proceeds a relaxed greeting to Regis. Both men laugh from their chests, giving one another a heavy pat in a “manly hug”. “Lord Regis Migorin, I was sure I’d see you here today.” His voice is more loose fitting than upheld and ascetic as Regis. He circulates to the front of the group ready for his most valuable customers of the day. “Who is being fitted today?” he asks gleefully. “My daughter Lyra, her first year.” Oriana answers, both her palms resting on each of her shoulders proudly, Lyra grins chary. “Well now isn’t that amazing!” he enunciates, exhibiting her shyish demeanor. Being a father himself he knew exactly how to act. “This is a very special day, miss Lyra. You’ll be going to school with your big brother.” He crouches to be at her eye-level, still a beaming smile pursed his lips.“Dove will measure you sweetheart.” Her mother assures her, glossing her fingers over her head pettingly. Lyra just nods moving from her mother and follows Slayer around the side. To the back of the store, they pass through racks of already assorted uniform wear and personal tailor recommendations. He was commenting on how quick it’ll all be and that he was so happy to serve another heir of Migorin. Lyra all to herself was tenacious on appreciating this cornerstone day. Eyeing other children her age being tailored as well as older ones.When they reach an empty ring he arranges her to its center. Using his energy to yank the emerald curtain around her. She was left posed in three angular mirrors. Lyra couldn't avail her shining smile that stretched ear to ear. Not that she was sheltered from the outside world. Lyra had no means to be “different” ; she longed to function “normally”. Live in the illusionists’ world as they do and are. Abrupting her thoughts was the humble face and wife, Dove McCaullons, an ample figure of umber rind, with fern eyes, and a bushel of lavish evening waves, pulled back by a maya blue headband. Wearing an embellished dress of many colors matching her husband.“Little Lyra, I knew you’d be ready.” the girls exchange a hug “Ready for your first school fitting?” she asks, pulling the wad of measure tape from her neck. “More than ready.” she huffs, holding her arms out to the side. Her smile stitched in place, never flailing even a moment.Dove’s measuring utensils hovered all around Lyra as slithering snakes. Each time the yellow band held still Dove would scratch it onto her pad. It was amusing for Lyra to watch the humongous white feather pen wag as a dog's tail. She began to explain that students at Murkwan prep have a small wardrobe of uniforms to accommodate to. All three sets could mix and match starting with the basic, white collar, button up top with a string of black ribbon for a bow or tie. A circle puff skirt, midi skirt, and cargo pants all schemed with the school colors: ochre, lapis, and gold trim. With the option of a cardigan, capelet, and heavy hooded jacket that is mainly black along with linear school theme lines. Anything else counts as penalty, not that Lyra felt disturbed by the standards. They sounded quite comfortable just by explanation. Once they were finished she hugged her friend bye. Parting ways with Dove to continue measuring the rows of other children and Lyra returning to the front of the store. Her first year of actual, real school she was sure nothing could dampen her mood at all. She's already read up on the buildings, courses, and teachers, that way she won't be a sitting duck in a crossfire. She would just be a normal student of clear genes. When she went to fix her messy half up bun she felt an immediate urge to stop. Hearing a whicker of her name by her Mother and Father. They had a hushed tone around the inside side of the counter. Her brother Fane wasn’t anywhere in sight, must’ve been getting himself resized. No way any adult could murmur a hint of crucial details without someone as her brother getting a whiff. Much to her dismay she lingered just around the corner. It was about her after all and was sure to cease if they even got a glimpse of her."Is it absolutely sure they’ve seen indications?” Regis’ mutter seethed from his throat, she could tell her Father was quite distressful. Being the head of all illusionists no news shouldn’t allude his attention. “Would someone like me make up such a heinous accusation? Especially it concerning the safety of her?” Slayer’s whisper almost matched his. He refined himself knowing that this wasn’t just his friend but the highest of all. “I am a father too, Regis. I wouldn’t ever want my son in any possible danger. I thought you should know.” he finishes.“Regis she is just getting to her feet. You know you can protect our children.” Oriana lulled her husband. Retracting him to composure as if was baring his claws any farther.“I apologize, but I do truly thank you for the tip.” Both men shake hands and retreat to typical business of the century. “As long as Lyra is safe.” Was the last of it, as soon as it felt safe she rolled from her hiding corner. Aligning her face with her previous thoughts. Her parents replicated the act greeting her with huge toothful smiles. “How was it?” Oriana asks, stepping from behind the counter. “Soon enough you’ll hate this part.” Slayer kids organizing parchment orders into piles. “That's why all first years are the most delightful.” “Fane just went back. They’ll meet you and I at the book shop.” Regis emerges by his wife’s side. His gaze beaning over her shoulder; clearly intent on being alone with her. Oh dear, did he sense her listening in on them?“Okay Dad.” She answers a little too quickly. Back along the hectic pavement her Father didn’t talk right as she assumed he would. He was admiring their little corner of the planet. Regis deserved every right to anyways, all of this tranquility accomplished by his structure. He was every ideal aspect a head illusionist should be, aspire even. Other’s bow their heads to just be grateful they lay eye’s over him. Not to delay that he is undoubtedly handsome. At almost every gala other clear gene women ogle him immensely. It was all frightfully enchanting, yet underneath all of his tightly knit exterior she could feel something sinister prevailing. Lyra didn’t know much about the illusionist affairs; she just knew some that couldn’t be released publicly. It had to be time ticking judging by his firm grip on Jac. Who was still nestled over his chest, his posture was protective. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. When she couldn’t manage a topic of conversation her Father did anyway. By the way he was mustering up the courage to do so it was obvious that he didn’t intend to pollute his daughter’s special day. “Now Lyra I know that we’ve had our ordeals in the past.” It was a strong start but a good one. “You know that you are a strong and most beautiful illusionist. If anything ever feels too overwhelming you know you can tell me or your Mom anything, right?” He was indeed worried, his words were always so sure. This sounded urgent and might even say needy.“Yes Dad, I have become stronger. I just want to be like my brother’s.” Lyra coaxes her dream, a small smile crinkles along her cheek.“Good, because you are and you always will be...my daughter.” She sat along a window sill watching humid rain sprinkle the opposite side. It was the bay of windows in the living room, in absolute view of where she had seen Voltrin. Lyra had little to no sleep; she just got up an hour ago. By some miracle she only had permits to run down later, meetings were all caught up. Their fatal meeting played on a loop under her lids, his entire person gravitating every corner of her sockets. She so loathed having his face scratched into her skin.In some lump of time the first glimmer of sun began to dry the outside. She rests her head back still watching straggling drops of water string to the bottom. Early risers jog by, walk their dogs by, cars transporting families around. She was a smudge envious of their worry free time. Her imprints had been teething her time by time, at least that is what she speculates. It wasn’t strumming her inside as a pack of hyenas in frenzy. No, this was something different, something familiar. “How much did you get?” Medus in a complete bed state walks up behind her. Scratching at the back of his neck harshly.“Not important.” she replies retreating her hand from her stomach. “Just been stressful lately, we know that.” she huffs longly, clouding a spot of glass.“It has been on and off, I feel that it will be finally dying out now.” He takes a seat next to her, by the edge of her curled up legs. “You’ve always been able to handle it, I just feel that maybe a sudden appearance may disrupt that?” He gestures to her.“Not one shed of thought.” she spoke ferociously, adjusting her sitting on the sill.“Lyra, I knew he came by.” he admits, juggling even more to the situation.“There is nothing about it!” she roars defendingly, as an impulse of energy cracks the window. Medus didn’t so much as flinch, he just regards her considerately. “Don’t act like I don’t understand. Lyra. You are not the only person to fall in love only to not have them.” he grew impatient, very saddened that he couldn’t help her at all through this. “Do you think I can keep my head leveled every second of every day? It was war and she chose what she did.” Medus’ radius of voice multiplied, alarming some servants to facade the room. “She’s serving her time, she knows it wasn’t easy for you to adjourn.” despite the selfish opportunity to switch her problems to about being his. Lyra did realize her brother most earnestly synthesizes with her pain. “I’m sorry I haven’t been honest with you. I just don’t want it to bother me to begin with.” She pets his arm motherly. “Yeah, always like Dad. Kept together not with sticks and glue but paste and concrete.” He laughs softly, resting his arms onto his knees. With his sister still massaging at his shoulder he leans onto her. They both sit still a moment listening to the neighborhood outside come alive for another summer day. “We fell for quite the crowd didn’t we?” Lyra nudges partaking in another laugh with her brother.“Shut up.” he stifles, returning her nudge.“A little birdy told me some people are free! Today!” A bright and early Fane came crashing down the stairs, already washed up and in beach attire. The two siblings sitting at the sill sit up berserk by this.“Just because we aren’t rushing to the office doesn’t mean we don’t have work.” says Medus, he gets up walking over to their brother.“Okay but you aren’t and it's been patchy that way all summer. You guys need to learn to have some fun too.” Fane heads to the dining room along with Medus and Lyra. Though it was true Medus and Lyra have been inching up the end of the rope that felt so infinite. It’s end was in view, all they needed to do was race for it. If the Voltrins were back that means they have attained the end goal. Perhaps Medus and Lyra have been so worn away with work that they never took the moment to just breathe. “We are hitting the beach. I already have Jorbi setting up food and such.” Fane declares disorderly, it was too early to be this loud. Still wiping the sleep from their eyes they just nod.Another delectable meal was being bestowed upon them. A heavy stack of three buttermilk pancakes and cheddar fried hash brown. It seized any sort of argument from Lyra, her stomach gnarls just at all it’s glory. Just as they were about to sit the three siblings double take at what was missing. Jac wasn’t up yet. All three volunteered to retrieve him but Medus ultimately won by leaving anyway. Leaving Lyra alone with a particularly nosy sibling, she scooches past him to take a seat. Only for the action to become a grave mistake. Fane was induced to insight what happened the other night. His nostrils flared at the sight of that pale face. Being the brother that he is, he couldn’t help himself. For that he couldn’t contain himself the moment he felt it. “Was that Voltrin here again?” Fane asks in a quick jolt. “I can smell it on you.” he wipes his nose putrefied of it’s fumes. She knew he didn’t need to act, he wanted to see.“Don’t be poking around my head like that.” she cautions him, her face deepening by the second. “He didn’t even come to the door.” she slumps onto her chair, clear irritation washing over her face.“Just let me know if that prick messes with you. I know to stay out of it.” Fane’s way with words never coordinates with how he speaks. He could’ve meant it, he could’ve not. “I’m okay brat.” she reassures him softly. Deep down she wasn’t sure if she meant it. It must've been convincing enough. It earned her that Fane sly smile. Next on cue Medus and Jac drop in laughing, Jac enjoying a piggy back from his big brother. Along the beachfront plenty of families were sprouted from spot to spot. It wasn’t an illusionists exclusive area, just a normal beach to naturals. The Migorin children were set up quite extravagantly thanks to Norbi. A sizable red beach umbrella, sat perched behind four pacific blue, wooden lounge chairs, and a round cream and blue sand blanket. Fane was laid out atop of it, soaking in all the vitamin D. Medus was huddled under the umbrella, cozied up in a chair, reading over a few papers. Lyra was out in the water with Jac, splashing and diving under each billow. She decided to have worn her blush color, panarea v-neck, one-piece. Lyra had to cover up her scarring on her abdomen. Not that it was too big a deal she just didn’t need them to worry. The water was stirring a lively wave pool action. Her and Jac would be swept back from wave to wave, laughing their stomachs to strain. They needn’t worry about drowning either. Illusionists are taught to keep a level head if ever dragged away to dangerous waters. Plus the impacts weren’t at all aggressive. Each time a crest would form over the two it would spark more adrenaline. Lyra would have to fix her hair back each time she resurfaced. She'd hold Jac close bouncing in deeper parts squealing as waves came over head. Jac was acting more his age than he had in years. Lyra didn't make a deal about it, too worried to spoil it. Their expressening fun reached the brothers ears. It brought such warmth to all the older siblings to see their baby brother basking in a completely worry free summer day. Fane abandoned his tan to join in. Soon enough Medus followed without a nag to do so.All four of them splash whimsically along the shallow. Uncaring and untouched by everything around them. This very moment engraving a sanctuary of solace. That they were just siblings, just siblings again. They were not public figures that all illusionists seek for guidance. Medus began to pick Jac up and toss him a few feet back into the depths. He'd swim right back to him chanting "again" over and over. Fane chased Lyra with a handful of sand. Empty threatening her that it'll go all down her backside. She playfully cried for him not too but when he got to close. She was sure he really meant it. Her silly jog morphed into paddling. She was saved by the splash of her older brother telling him to knock it off. Fusing another ruction of splashing. After a good hour they all began to feel pretty heavy and tired. Lyra was first to retreat, dragging her feet through the sand into the chair. She slumped down allowing her skin to air dry. She had to admit to herself that Fane was right. They really needed a let loose day. As she felt the tint of blood rush over her body heating her up. She savored the sight of her brothers still swimming around through the waves. They were sluggish. Thinking ahead of time she called for the lunch to be brought from the car. When she turned back her peripheral caught a sight. Turning to her left she beheld what was a couple in the shallows. She sensed they were naturals, holding hands going deeper into the water. Lyra wasn't sure why they grasped her attention. One thing for sure they had a deep hook on her, she watched completely distracted. Taking to account that no matter how they moved they were somehow still touching. Sailing along the surface of the water, entangling in spirals as dolphins. Easing themselves into the cool drifts. Then it shifted to be even more intimate, their lips smushed together. Lyra flinched into her chair completely taken aback by this typical relationship gesture. She snatched her sunglasses and hat from the bag. Completely masking her reddening cheeks. Why the hell was she watching them like that, with no shame? It was entirely unnatural for her to do such a thing. Her inner scolding was stopped again by the same couple. They were in deeper so the girl clung to him. Clawing at his shoulders, sealing her mouth to his aggressively. Their bodies saturated in every crease allowing themselves to mingle slithery. In a rhetoric sense it could be too PDA but instead Lyra was entranced. Her ownself betraying herself as if two parts of her separated. Something began to leak wet that wasn't the lake water. Her breath exasped exaggeratedly, thighs pressing sturdy, she placed her index finger at the rim of her lips. Attempting to reil in this uncalled reaction, as rumpus as a fresh hooped stallion. What kind of person does this? Her imprints massage along her in fiery knots. Now it made more sense."You ready for a sandwich? Then we can swim again." Fane's words yanked Lyra right out of her chair. She curled her knees to her chest panting crazily. "I'm not hungry!" Jac squelched, he was thrown over Fane's shoulder kicking as any child would."Stop your complaining brat." He jerks playfully, setting him on the blanket. He retrieved the cooler from Jorbi and set it next to them. "You want pb&j or turkey and cheddar?" He asks the pouting boy."Hey, you alright?" Medus asks Lyra, whom was still in a daze. She rattled her neck and turned to him, mouth agape. "Yeah" it wasn't as convincing as she thought "Why?" She scoffs smiling, grabbing the container of fruit. Thankfully Medus dropped it.The Migorins spent another hour burning up amongst the sand and waves. Lyra wasn’t in much of a clowning mood. Not since the couple she undeniably witnessed being excessively affectionate. As a matter of fact she had to meet up with Melita. In a rush she had Jorbi drive her home. She would send her back to get the boys when they were ready. After a quick shower she threw on a blue surplice side cinch top, baggy jean joggers, and her hair in a stiff french braid to dry. She would have their work driver drop her off to the healers.“You’re early, that’s the first in a while.” Melita’s cotton head was bustling in a cabinet. Tossing empty containers out of her way.“Thought that would be a good sign?” Lyra asks from the entrance, afraid to be hit across the head. “Could be. There’s always the possibility.” her sarcasm nowhere near as substantial as Fane’s. “Anything that is acting up? Usually the imprint always is.” she pops from the rickety cabinet with an enormous jar of greenery. Almost as a huge squigly slug of intestines. Lyra didn’t even want to ask what it was for.“Actually something has changed.” Lyra sat herself in their usually wooden table. Still completely plattered with singular random items. “I need to know if it can be good or bad.” she adds in.“My dear, you know dark energy is very consequential. Only one who can tamper with it or begone of it is you.” her vagueness always seems to spite her. Melita cracked the jar opening releasing a horrifying smell of steamed carrots mixed with gravy. Lyra gagged into her palm. “Ah, just ripe.” she spooned some out and carried it over to a mishmash stewing over a bunsen burner.“Right, that's what you’ve been telling me the past two years. What you really fail to tell me is how I’m supposed to.” she guffs trying to refrain from gagging again. Melita pours the swampy vern water into the vial. “Are we really going to have this argument again?” Melita wasn’t up for the challenge “I have made it clear, countless times. Your curse is a complete personal parasite. It targets the seven deadly sins about you. Particalling you up from the inside out.” she shuts the burner off allowing it to simmer “You have chosen to kill it by derooting. A slow way, yes, because it was mostly trauma you have dealt with. Other’s weren’t as strong. Now all that's left is Vol-”“Don’t!” Lyra wheezed, holding around herself.“I’ve told you.” she repeats herself slowly approaching her as the vial began bubbling over the top. Melita kneels in front of the thrashing Migorin. The sin had no problem working itself up. The vial behind her had the liquid sliding down stickily as mucus. “You can deroot this last one for the rest of your life time. It won’t go away until you face it, face him.” she hums menacingly, the vial now glowing. Lyra’s face contorts into a beating pressure, holding the vibrating imprints. “I did, I left..him” she grunts, twisting to her side.“You are really trying to tell me that, while the last sin is so easily squirming inside you like a worm.” her eyes stay as solidified as her tone. “You are better than this Lyra.” “I don’t want him!” she bays, a duplicate burst of energy escapes her. Same as that morning with Medus. Melita didn’t flinch the same as her older brother.“Oh child, you are in trouble.” she coos, the vial now shatters into many pieces. “I guess that wasn’t the right blend.” she upbeats back into her crazy attitude. She gets up from her knees to examine what she did wrong with her concoction. Lyra almost sweating in all desire.“Mel please” she gasps “what do I do?” she manages to burn off the vibrating. Struggling to tamper her chest. Mel didn’t answer until the failed brew revealed it’s answer. “Face him.” Back at home Lyra was at her most stubborn. Refusal to face that she understood what Mel meant. She didn’t love Audric anymore, she didn’t want Audric anymore. She climbs the stone stairs to the peacock glass stain doors. Another huff from her considering the imprints just below her belt. If she had to, she’d deroot this for the next thousands of years if it meant Audric staying out of her life for good. She nods to herself with a grim grunt. That is exactly what she will do. “Lady Migorin.” that english voice again halting her every whim. She twists to meet the same homesick face as last night. “We meet again like this.” he smiles those perfect lips, she bats her eyes at him. “What are you doing here?” she grumbles, if only she could be invisible.“I thought the chrysanthemum made it rather obvious.” he leans against the metal fence panel. It figures Jac would’ve known. “Have you made a decision about my offer?” he inquires confidently, completely serious.“I thought I made things very clear.” her voice blunders, Lyra felt it again. Just beneath her jeans was the faint strum of vibrating. “I did too love.” he counters “We are not finished. Not even by a long shot.” his presence switching from confident to gentle. He leers at her with such expressing eyes, she gulps taking a step back.“Voltrin, I-I can’t.” she replies, under her jeans intensifying.“We were too far to go back.” he unfolds, travelling the steps up to her cautiously. She stumbled back against the door. Her heart stammering at the breathing force stimulating in her pants. Audric may or may not have been able to sense her curse. He did however understand her as if it were his first language. His mind clouding at the very desire to have her as he used to. But he promised himself he’d do this right, for her. Lyra was tipping over an edge “It wasn’t right.”“If it wasn’t then tell me right now. That you never loved me.”She flatlined, every notion she’s written out in her head incinerate. He somehow knew that she wouldn’t be able to. If he were his past self, he’d bash about how right he always was. Now he flunked down in immense relief, relief that she couldn’t. She lathered herself up to face him. He was a mere inches away unable to pull his eyes from her. He was waiting. Her lips began to part slowly, curling out delicately into what would be words. They were just constricted beneath the surface, only to wither away as his hand reached for her face. Just then the door next to them pivots open. Retracting any contact that might have happened between the two pent up adults. Fane was just on the other side, looming a blank slate stare at the pale face. He didn’t move or speak but just stood there. It was too daunting to become awkward. Audric wasn’t sure whether to leave or not.“Goodnight, Sir Voltrin.” Lyra says, curling into the door escaping him.Audric stood by watching her disappear. Leaving him with Fane who was still eyeing him. He didn’t leave but waited a moment. Wondering if he’d speak at all, he took a slight step back. Waiting again to see if he’d speak. Audric wondered if he should be the one to say something. He couldn’t find anything better to say than, bye?“Sir Migorin.” he nods, taking another sliding step. As he made his way down Fane spoke up.“As long as you remain a gentleman.” Fane called, bringing him back about. Heeding to his words. “I know just as much as my brother, how you two were.” he shuts the door.