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|Name:||sʜᴇ sᴀɪᴅ ʜᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴡᴀs ( ʟᴜᴄᴇᴛᴛᴇ )|
|i must have been, she thinks, a simple girl. she can’t remember herself as that person|
but she keeps thinking the pool will remember and explain to her the meaning of her prayer so she can understand whether it was answered or not.
they're already halfway across the country by the time her face shows up in the national papers, and by then she already knows how to temporarily change her appearance with magic, so no eyebrows are raised when she slips in and out of small shops to purchase something to eat or drink. the headlines are predictably sensational, bold typefaces screaming their take on the story they've spun for gossip hungry readers. even the more sober publications seem to enjoy telling the story of the kidnapped heiress and the villainous witch-king, the clear cut good vs. evil narrative appealing to the broadest range of audiences.
kidnapped. could anyone call it as such when she felt a prisoner in her own home? she remembers nights spent dreaming of an escape, or else the countless times when a dangerous confession danced on the tip of her tongue (mother, father, i'm a witch): one that could take her away from that life and entomb her within another, though arguably worse, world. better to call it a rescue mission, or a break for freedom, the joint efforts of a cocky illegal witch and the girl he had spotted on a quiet beach one evening, lost in concentration as she tried to set a piece of driftwood alight.
in truth, it was self interest that motivated the both of them: he had wanted to use her for leverage, while she saw him as a ticket out. neither player in this tale ever expected to stay with the other for this long, but as it turned out, she needed someone to learn magic from, and playing the mentor was more enjoyable than he had expected. and just maybe, mutual attraction played a small part in there, too.