Chapter 5

And I was there to quell the storm, to sense the imperceivable changes in Ix’s demeanor, to know when she needed to be pulled away or pushed forward. Diana didn’t see any of it. Diana didn’t see me.

As I lay there waiting for the sun to disappear, I swore I would never go to the Fenselle house again. My place was there in the Coven of Delisana, protecting and supporting my sister. I would not be distracted by the warmth of their community or the bright white walls of that house. I refused to imagine what life in the sun would be like, and when classes began, I avoided the girls, Summer included, for about two weeks. It wasn’t actually hard. Summer was a second year student focusing on advanced classes and on the off chance she in our room, the door would be open and I could sneak out through the greenhouse. We did have one class together, Basic Spells and Incantations, but being plastered to Ix’s side helped. I purposefully did not look at Summer, and she didn’t try to approach me. Meanwhile, the girls of Fenselle house had their classes in the daylight, starting at dawn. Ours started at dusk, and my schedule directly followed Ix's, with the exception of her special training with Diana and even those I still sat in, a permanent fixture blending into the scene.

I trailed behind Ix from class to class, to the cafe, through the common room. I watched her perform all her priestess duties as she started to settle into her role. She settled quarrels and coaxed the greenhouse to vibrance despite the layer of frost that had begun to crust over the windows. She refreshed the tiny alter to Delisana that was squished into the corner of the study room a couple of times and generally made herself be seen and loved by every sister of the Coven. The consensus was that she was perfect. Kind and caring and fun and, most importantly, level headed. They didn't see her meltdowns. They couldn't sense the stirring in her magical energy early in the mornings or after a long day of holding herself precariously together. And if all went to plan, they didn’t see me supporting her either. I was a success, because she was a success.

Diana, of course, was proud of Ix. She loved to gush over every one of Ix's tiny accomplishments, during the allotted time to do so of course, at the beginning of Ix's daily solo training and control tutoring sessions when we were wrangled into Diana's study with tea and painfully sweet pastries.

Don't get me wrong. I was proud of Ix, prouder than I'd ever been, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy in my chest every time her small accomplishments were inflated and my part in her ability to achieve them was ignored. Every night spent consoling, every grounding touch was lost in the flurry of her successes. The overwhelm and outbursts were fewer and farther between than before, but they were there. And I was there to quell the storm, to sense the inperceivable changes in Ix’s demeanor, to know when she needed to be pulled away or pushed forward. Diana didn’t see any of it. Diana didn’t see me.