Chapter Text
Chapter 1; OLD OCEAN
The chilly autumnal air was the only thing keeping her awake, just enough to focus on the path ahead. A tapestry of browns and reds covered the grass, crinkled and fragile, they broke beneath her feet and she couldn’t help but wince upon hearing the noise, was that what being broken and useless sounded like?
Trinity stopped, shoes stuck in place as leaves scattered closer and closer, twirling around her, scraping against the cobblestones, hitting trees and branches, nearing her stretched out fingertips and dropping abruptly to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
She closed her eyes and darkness flooded her senses, vague shapes and colors flew before her, merely shadows in the pitch black. The wind rose, the distant smell of wood and damp earth coming with it. She recalled the lingering rain of the last month, now nurturing the earth and the grass, still dry from the cold of winter, warming up the soil for the warmth of spring and summer.
The memory of the spring and the heath that would follow did little to lift her spirits. Summer meant exams, tests, eyes watching her, weighting her every movement, headaches like needles piercing her skin. This would be the last year, she thought with a relieved sigh, the last time she’d have to struggle with words and the bluntness of the dark ink on the pages, unforgiving towards the imagery in her mind. It lost meaning, depth, it bled out like an injured animal, its blood a testament to the fact that she had failed, yet again.
Her hands reached the insides of her coat pocket, finding the crumbled pages she had ripped out of her notebook, too afraid to leave them where her mother could see them, scrutinize them, barely keeping her annoyance down, her gaze hard against what she couldn’t understand.
The wind quieted, leaves cracked beside her, the sound stopping just inches away. Slowly, steadying herself to meet the sky and the world around her again, she opened her eyes, leaving the darkness and all that it carried with, behind her.
Trinity’s gaze shifted towards the ground where a pair of light brown sneakers with washed out yellow laces stood
“aren’t you cold?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper, fighting her way against the wind
“aren’t you too warm?” a voice replied, soft like flower petals but as steady as the stones that led the path towards the school.
They kept on walking, merely stealing brief glances at one another, without ever meeting each other’s gaze directly. Trinity could’ve traced the map of Mel’s features with certainty, with her eyes closed. Standing with her back turned or, like now, walking just inches apart, their knuckles brushing, the slightest touch, the smallest feeling of warmth. She had done it, just a handful of times, on crumbled pieces of paper, ripped from her notebooks, hidden in the deepest pockets of her bags, stuffed between the school books, crinkled and fragile out
of use, time and the many hands of those who used them before her. The thought made her shudder, as if that weight, passed on from one generation to another, pulled her down, stuffing her lungs with cotton, making it hard to breathe properly.
“wrote anything during the holidays?” she forced the question out of her lips, desperate to fill the silence with something other than her thoughts.
“a little, mainly I spent time with my sister, she always misses me during the school period and I don’t want her to feel alone or like… forgotten I guess. It’s always harder for her when I’m away, no one really listens to her or what she needs and” Mel stopped, her eyes narrowing, Trinity could see her jaw clenching. Without having to look down she knew her knuckles were white, fingers curled in an attempt to contain her frustration.
“sorry, that’s not what you want to know” Trinity’s heart fell, sinking deep into the pit of her stomach. She tried to open her mouth but the words remained hidden, unable to catch up with the speech that was playing inside her own head.
“no, it’s fine, wouldn’t have had anything to share myself, unless you count my nightmares in the human form of my mother as a fun tale” she grinned, trying to steal a glance towards Mel but she was met with nothing but her blonde hair, tucked in a ponytail like always, a tight blue ribbon securing it at the end
“sorry to hear that” Mel glanced back, finally, her lips tugged just barely in a small smile.
Trinity caught herself before a frown formed on her face, staring at the ground instead, willing her heart to slow down, despite her breath already quickening. She pressed her fingers against the fabric in the insides of her coat pockets, until they grew numb and the different textures mixed together, leaving prickles down her hands, shivers on her shoulders.
She replayed the warmth of those words inside her head, tossing and turning them around, giving them to different people but always going back to Mel in the end. Was kindness the only thing she was capable of ? Now, looking at her, searching her clear eyes for a sign of spite she wondered what it would have taken for her to snap in half, like one of those broken leaves they kept on hurting, crunching them to the ground.
Again, as she averted her gaze, aware of Mel’s own eyes, she questioned what she was made of. Did she nurture kindness and care like a plant ? Watering it with every curated world she spoke, watching it bloom in the spring; did it have flowers and were they blue, Mel’s favourite colour, as she recalled ? Or had she always had it, carefully tucked in her back pocket, did it not hurt to reach for it every day, making sure it was still there, cradling it like some fragile being ?
Each question was a new thorn, growing from the ground and pulling her back, making her stumble on her feet, careless against the stones that blocked their path. Trinity could almost feel them, creeping up against her sides, growing under her coat, the deep green of their leaves miking with her uniform.
Startled, she pressed closer against the fabric desperate to hide, she couldn’t let Mel see that rotten green, attached to her own skin. It would have spread, that much she knew.
Silence grew, leaving space for the sounds of the forest to prosper, getting louder as if sensing the girls hesitation to speak.
The chirping of birds filled the air between them, looking at the sky they could almost see them, flying through the branches, little brown and red dots twirling in the air, free and safe against the chilly wind, unbothered by the screaming cracks of the leaves on the ground.
“look” Mel nudged her lightly , barely scraping her elbow against her arm. Startled, Trinity almost let out a scream, so focused on drowning in her own thoughts that she wasn’t even paying attention to what laid in front of their feet.
There, chirping his happiness at the sky, poking fun at the poor leaves stood a robin, steady despite how frail he looked, he almost looked proud of the red mark below his beak. Two little black pools, eyes made of obsidian stared at them, daring almost. It chirped again and suddenly it was a normal bird again, spreading its wings and flying away, faraway over their heads, chirping its last goodbyes.
Mel chuckled, seemingly delighted by the sight, she followed it for as long as she could, until it disappeared behind the branches
“Melanite is a subset of the adridite variety of garnet, it’s the only naturally black adridite” she spoke quietly, as if to not disturb the other birds, her back still turned, gazing up at the sky
“really?” it took a beat for Trinity to understand what the words were, as if everything was moving too fast for her to catch up
“yes, its black tone is caused by titanium oxide. It was popular as mourning jewelry during the Victorian era”
“titanium oxide” trinity whispered those two words, a little charm spell, calling something from deep inside her memory, now fighting to be brought back to life
“yes” Mel’s voice was barely above a whisper but it was closer to a roar in Trinity's ears, lending a hand, stepping closer, encouraging
“it’s found in hot planets, it can absorb starlight like ozone absorbs incoming sunlight on earth’s stratosphere. Temperature increases by altitude in the atmosphere, the opposite of the normal situation. It’s theorized to be present in hot Jupiters” the words kept flowing, her throat almost felt sore, unsure of the easiness that came over, startled by the feeling of fresh air pushing in her lungs, shoving away thorns and cotton and all that unnecessary weight
“you did read the book I lent you last summer then” Mel grinned, almost gaping at Trinity, face full of what seemed like genuine surprise.
A sudden feeling of warmth sparked in Trinity's chest, blazing against the branches that covered her body, pushing them apart, giving her room to breath
“couldn’t have you know more than I did, at least in astronomy class Mel…anos”
“weren’t you sleeping during greek ?” Mel’s expression seemed to widen even more, Trinity wanted time to freeze on the spot, bend on her knees and look in her backpack, searching desperately for a pen. She needed to keep this Mel, this moment, in her memories and she could only draw it to give her justice. It was already slipping away, far too quickly, it lasted a heartbeat and then it was gone.
Just as she was about to answer what sounded like millions of footsteps echoed, close, too close, young voices stretched, muffling the forest sounds, the birds, the wind, the words forming inside her, silencing them forever.
A familiar feeling of dread washing over her, she fought against her own instincts as she’d been told but when she stared in front of them and the high-rise, red bricked building came into view her breathing hitched, she clamped her mouth shout swallowing a scream, burying deep within her insides, with the thorns and the branches.
She felt the pointed arched windows, the sworded angels, the bright colored glass like eyes, baring into her soul, tearing her apart, limb by limb, scattering them on the ground, hiding them below the red rugs of leaves.
Her knees grew weak and she took a step back, unable to move forward
“I’m here” a voice again, gentler this time, quieter, Mel. She nodded, pushing her discomfort further down, willing the shadows to stay where they belonged, inside of her, where they’d build a home for themselves.
“it’s our last year, it could be interesting, lots of new things to learn, no new friends to make. We already know the school, the teachers, the people, the food, the stairs, the beds and the sheets. I have two spare pairs of those, if you need it, they itch against my skin all the time. It’ll be fine” Mel listed, voice steady, arms closer to her sides. Trinity noticed, her tone had shifted a bit, it seemed more composed, guarded even.
Her hand burned for the slightest touch, eyes lingering a little longer on her face, observing her clenched jaw, brows furrowed in a thin line, it made her look older, more mature, more in control.
Maybe if she tried hard enough she could shadow her, appear to be in control while her insides were rattling, muscle bumping into muscle, bones quivering. A landscape of dryness formed in the back of her mind, filled with dead branches and pine needles, stones like cutting blades, rivers as stormy as the sea, shores as cold as ice.
Trinity registered her feet staggering forward, keeping herself barely above water, keeping her eyes focused on the door of the main entrance, heavy with padded locks, wood of a red so deep it almost looked like it had been painted with real blood.
As they walked, crossing the front courtyard in a straight line, strictly following the cobblestones that led the way, the school came to life. So many stories emerging one by one, tales of winter, snow, family, freedom and friends. It was strange how they could all exist within the same space, mixing at times but mostly avoiding one another, careful not to step in the way of the wrong crowd, strictly sticking to the assigned groups, looking for the familiar and kindred ones. It had happened quickly, as if following a script, Trinity had barely adjusted to the cold, piling blankets over blankets when she realized she was lonely.
As the first snow fell she only knew the warmth of the cup of tea in her hands, the company of the ink and the pages, the drawings that substituted the words she couldn’t say. Everyone seemed to have lived two lives, while she could barely find the courage to navigate the present. Time moved fast, a wheel spinning out of control, spreading clues on how to survive the school year that everyone, except her, seemed to be able to grasp.
Trinity didn’t understand any of it; the rush, the close groups, the need to overstep but she never complained. She figured she was wrong, took a little longer to adjust but she never really did. At least here she was alone, truly alone but at peace, it was easy to hide without being looked after, under the hard gaze of her mother. Protected by the school walls, cradled by the cool shadows of the trees, she could draw and speak her own language.
Her memory fails her these days, creating blank pages where they shouldn't be, morphing curated drawings of flowers into monsters and thorns, throwing moss over beauty, darkening yellow suns and clear skies. However she does remember the first time she met Mel. No drawing would have given it justice, probably she just wasn’t good enough yet. So she depicted it the only way that she could, as if they were two trees, growing close, feeding on the same ground, looking upon the same valley, filled with flowers; a dreamlike land where snow never stuck, thunder never rolled, rain never came. Sometimes clouds swam in the tunnel of their vision but they were trees and the cloudy days, with their chill and miserable weather passed quickly, as insignificant as a single rock against a cliff.
That piece of paper, too valuable to be shown into the light of day, sat still in the back of her drawer, like a king on a throne made just for him. Sometimes, only at night, she had taken it out, fingers brushing against the rough surface of the paper, trembling against the black ink. Just once she had an idea about coloring it but, as the green came to life in her hand, leaving a spot of color against her pale skin she had put it down, staring at it with spite, as if it had a mind of its own, capable of nefarious things.
It was spring time, almost exam season, despite the fact that they just had exams so she really didn’t see the point. They had gone fairly well but she had almost forgotten her own marks, wiping them away as her mother brushed her off, tossing the papers aside, not having anyone to celebrate with. Not a soul had approached in the last few months, the few jokes that she had tried to make created more of a barrier of distrust than anything. She had kept trying for a while, tossing some snarky comments here and there, throwing them to the sky like a lifeline, hoping they would reach someone who could understand.
If Mel understood her she didn’t know, never really asked. They lingered close to one another, moving at the same pace but with different intentions, not inclined yet to wait for the other to catch up or to turn the right way. They were two clocks with the numbers flipped, each staring at the other in the mirror, unable to read the hour correctly on the other’s hands, slightly annoyed by the ticking noises, which grew louder when they stood closer.
Then maybe the clocks broke, or their hands stopped making sense, or maybe they never really did. They stopped trying to look into the other directly, too afraid of the mirror standing between them. Now when they walked they stood a little closer, stealing glances and weighting each word with a criteria only they could understand.
Sometimes it wasn’t words, just an expression, a lingering look, a brush of skin against skin, a shudder.
To look, to talk, sometimes it felt like carrying the weight of the world, it felt like knowing a little too well what was happening on the other side of the mirror. Trinity had tried to step away, to break it, just to step closer or investigate, see if it was real or a cruel game her imagination was playing. “you always dream so much, get back on earth, you’ll get nothing up there”; they always said that, didn’t they?
“I heard they are closing off the forest this year”
“they’ll probably cancel the dance next weak”
“no way, they won’t allow it, you know Miss Chantrieri loves it”
“what if they get rid of the botanical club”
“oh, come on, boring plants grow in those woods, it’s just trees”
“what happened again?”
“I bet it was just some stupid joke, it’ll be fine”
The overlapping voices were already swimming too close, twirling around them, like both of them were a part of the joke, as if they belonged there.
Trinity looked up, she didn’t realize she had gone in, she felt panic rising against her chest, thinking about how lost she must seem “like one of those first year”, she thought she heard someone say but then she turned and there was no one there. Not even Mel. She tried scanning the sea of people, brushing against her like ways, crashing against her sides like waves during a storm. Someone came at her full force, almost knocking her to the ground; barely she managed to keep her footing, shooting a glare in the direction of the guy who had turned to say something, a faint smile on his face, which dropped in an instant when he met her gaze. He hurried on, bumping into a few more people in the process, muttering words as he ran away.
The hall came pulsed with people, every step mirroring the other, each heart beat drumming in her ears. She pulled at the straps of her bag, pushing her shoulders back, moving forward, looking for a wall, a nook, an escape.
A ring echoed and everyone stilled, frozen in time, silence finally came, the air barely shifted, every breath seemed delayed, eyes all focused on something before them; a podium upon with sat a long wooden table with five chairs, in each a professor, gaze dark and serious, gloomy and cloudy, as if they could only replicate the weather of the outside world, without any will of their own
“Please listen” a deep voice spoke, Trinity knew it well for all the times she had gone in his office to talk about classes and her barely passing scores
“sorry, got lost in the crowd. I’m here and I have food” Trinity turned, ready to shove, to yell, against whoever it was that disrupted that quiet moment at last.
Mel, it was only Mel, who now looked like a deer in highlights, her bag swung over shoulders and a paper bag in hand. Trinity tried to relax, she wanted to talk, to seem reassured but she barely managed a smile, before a louder voice spoke, again
“It is with great pleasure that we welcome you to another year, here at Barrentwort. To the new students, welcome, it’s always astonishing to see so much potential in young minds and we hope you’ll find your stay simulating. To those who are about to part shortly, let me say that your presence here will be missed, I can assure that you will be given the most support through your finals, in order to guarantee a promising future.
As always, let me remind you that the curfew is set at 11 p.m, classes will start tomorrow at 8 a.m, being late is not recommended, as I’m sure you already know. As you probably heard, this year the access to the forest is forbidden to everyone. Let me add that, to the dismay of some but the joy of many, myself included, no event will be cancelled and activities will be carried out as always. Have a good dinner and a good night”
The speech barely registered, it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know or heard in the last four years. Instead Trinity turned to Mel, fingers hurting for how hard the digged into the fabric of her bag, she could already feel her neck tensing, could already picture the stabbing pain that awaited her in the morning
“thanks” she managed to say, pushing the words out of her clenched teeth, willing her jaw to open and close, cringing at how difficult it was, like it had been wired shut too tightly
“it’s okey. Come to my room and you can eat on the bed if it’s fine” Mel shook her shoulders, a nervous habit, Trinity noticed.
“yes sure” it was a routine that worked like a clock for both of them; eating the same meal on the first night, in the same room but a little further apart, not really looking at each other but breathing the same air.
Sometimes it was enough, sometimes it was the most they could take.
Moving against the current of people they left the crowded hall, turned left, brushing their knuckles against exposed bricks, avoiding the eyes of the framed pictures and paintings. Then they hurried towards the stairs, taking them two at a time, as if they had an appointment they couldn’t be late for.
As the door cracked open, obedient to Mel's touch, Trinity breathed deeply, grateful for the quiet, they slipped inside the small room, leaving the rest of the world to wonder outside, blissfully unaware of their loneliness.