4: Mother is mad.

TW: Mentions of Death, Mention of Murder, Unsettling Familial Relationship

4

Hyxver

Mother is mad. I can feel it in my bones, reverberating as if they were her own. Her plan is not working. This makes her unhappy. She is smart. She knows it. When her plans fail, she sees it as an insult to her intelligence.

My tongue flicks across my teeth. They sit awkwardly in my mouth. They are uncomfortable. I do not like them. Mother convinces me that it was a rite of passage.

The mirror looks back at me. Through its glass, I see mother pacing. Back and forth. She is speaking loudly. Grinding her teeth. Curling her fingers. She hisses and calls my name.

“Hyxver.”

I look at her in the mirror. She tells me to turn around. I do. Messenger. Eclipse. Cancelled. Plan. Ruined. Someone discovered her plan. ‘Fucking seer’ - she says. I do not see the problem.

“They would not expect it, if we attacked today,” My voice is dry in my throat as I speak. She looks at me. Her feet are no longer stomping on the floorboards. She smiles and grabs my shoulders.

“Oh my darling genius, I knew you’d think of something.” Her nails are sharp as they dig into my shoulders. She kisses my cheek. Her head tilts slightly. This is a prompt for further explanation,

“We attack the Star Elves today while they sleep. They will not see it coming. Then, we attack the others. A message will not have arrived yet. They will not expect it either.” Her smile widens.

“Yes, yes! We can still execute our plan. Although, they won’t all be gathered in one place but…It will work! Oh, this is wonderful!” She squeals and claps her hands together. The sound is sharp in the silence of the night, “Oh, sweetheart, my darling boy, I love you, you know that?” I nod. I do. She says it every day.

“Be a dear and fetch the flowers the messenger brought. Oh! And my weapons, love. Then, as soon as you’re ready, we leave,” She requests. She saunters away.

I gather her weapons. Put the flowers in a satchel. Some are stuffed into a bag at my hip. They will be useful in the battle ahead. I can already feel their nectar pulsing in my veins.

When I finish, she is waiting. Her smile is wide. Her pointed teeth glisten in the candlelight. When she asks me if I am ready, I reply ‘yes’.

I am prepared to commit a genocide.