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Chapter 10 - Tales Of Yesterday

The Cleansing

The bathroom is still and bright with the thin blue of early dawn.

Steam curls from the tap as Xena braces herself against the porcelain sink. Dried streaks of blood—hers, the creature's—flame to life again under the water and spiral down the drain.

She watches them vanish and breathes for the first time since the fight.

She's alive. The Murmurer is gone. The forest is quiet.

Her abdomen throbs, the band of torn flesh glowing faintly where magic had burned it shut. Every movement stings, but she cannot stop washing, as if she could rinse away the night itself.

For a heartbeat she almost smiles—small, fierce, unbelieving.

She won.

A sound behind her.

The door cracks open.

"X-Xena?"

She spins, clutching a towel to her side. Xavier stands frozen in the doorway, eyes wide at the red-stained water, at the faint light pulsing beneath her skin.

"It's— it's nothing," she blurts. "Just a scratch."

"That's not a scratch." He steps forward, voice shaking. "What happened to you?"

She catches his wrist before he can look closer. "Don't tell Mom, especially not grandma Gen. Promise me."

"Xena—"

"Promise."

He nods, scared. "Okay. But only if you tell me what you did.And how you got to be like this" he gestured at her wounds.

Silence stretches. Then she exhales, trembling, and half laughing.

"I killed it. The Murmurer. It's over."

Xavier stares as if she's speaking another language. Maybe more so, nonsense. "You can't be serious."

She presses his hand to her side, where the wound hums with leftover heat. "Does that feel like I'm joking?"

The moment his fingers touch her skin, the air crackles.

Light flickers behind his eyes. In a rush he sees—her standing in the burning woods, the dagger bursting with blue fire, the creature collapsing into ash. He feels her terror, her power, her triumph. Then something else flashes through him: a bright, impossible future—flames coiling into wings, a voice calling Xena's name, green eyes watching from a storm.

He gasps and jerks back.

The vision shatters.

"Xav?" She grabs his shoulders. "What did you see?"

"I don't know," he whispers. "You were… magnificent. And there was something coming—something bright, I think."

She manages a tired smile. "Then maybe the world finally remembers we exist."

He pulls her into a careful hug, afraid to hurt her. "Please, just don't do that again. I can't lose you too."

"Can't promise that," she murmurs into his shoulder, half teasing, half truth.

---

Breakfast

Morning light filters through the kitchen blinds, striping the table in gold and gray.

Selene pours coffee without looking up; Gen sits opposite the twins with the morning news on low volume.

The words prom tragedy hum faintly from the radio.

"Classes resume tomorrow," Selene says. "They'll have counselors for everyone."

Xavier nods, eyes down. Xena stirs her tea, pretending the motion doesn't pull at her stitches.

Gen glances up. "They found scorched ground out by the creek. Strange markings. Hunters think lightning, but—"

She lets the thought hang.

Selene sighs. "We'll let the police handle their mysteries. We have enough to heal from."

Under the table, Xena nudges her brother's foot. Don't.

He catches her glance and forces a smile. "Yeah. Just lightning."

The conversation drifts—school work, groceries, anything but monsters.

When Selene finally rises to clear the dishes, Gen leans toward them.

"Be careful with the woods," she says softly. "Old things don't die easy."

Neither twin answers.

---

Return to Paradise Hills High

The school smells of disinfectant and candle wax.

Lockers bloom with flowers and taped-up photographs. Theo's jersey hangs behind glass, surrounded by notes that flutter each time a door closes.

Teachers speak gently, too gently. The halls are hushed, as if laughter might break something sacred. Xavier moves through it in a daze, the hood of Theo's sweatshirt shadowing his face. When the football team passes, their eyes drop; no one knows what to say.

Xena walks beside him, sleeves pulled low to hide her bandage. She hears whispers under the hum of lights—thin threads of sound only she can catch. The school itself feels haunted by the echo of the ritual gone wrong.

In homeroom, the teacher's voice trembles through the roll call. A few names go unanswered. The class stares at empty chairs draped in black ribbons.

Xavier's pen shakes; he glances at his sister. She forces a smile, small but real, a promise that they're still here.

Then the lights flicker—once, twice.

A faint murmur slides through the room, soft as breath.

Xena's pulse quickens. She looks toward the window and, for a heartbeat, sees a shimmer in the glass—green eyes watching, then gone.

The bell rings. Conversation rises again, thin and nervous.

Xena exhales and gathers her books.

"Ready?" she asks.

Xavier hesitates, then nods. "Yeah. I think so."

Together they step into the corridor, the noise of ordinary life beginning to swallow the silence—while somewhere, beneath the floor, something stirs and listens.

–––

The Cafeteria

The air in the cafeteria feels too bright, too normal.

Laughter bounces off tile walls, but underneath it hangs a weight everyone pretends not to feel.

Xavier sits at the end of the long lunch table with his friends—Nate, Brianna, and Dylan. Xena sits across from him, with her own friends, her tray untouched, half-listening, half elsewhere.

"Man, why didn't you show up for Theo's funeral," Dannie says quietly. "Everyone was there, Xav. Even Coach Scott cried."

Xavier stares at his sandwich. "I know. I just…stutters...couldn't."

June leans in. "It was beautiful, though. The whole football team carried his jersey. They even played that song he liked—the one from homecoming."

He swallows hard. "Yeah. I saw the pictures."

Dylan adds, "Theo's mom said you were his best friend. She looked for you."

That breaks something inside him. He forces a shaky smile. "I'm sorry, okay? I just couldn't handle everyone looking at me like I'm supposed to explain why he's gone."

Silence. The others nod awkwardly. Only Xena meets his eyes, quiet and unreadable.

When the bell rings, she stands first. "I'll see you in class," she says, voice soft but firm.

He nods, unable to speak.

---

The Mirror

The hallway feels endless, echoing with laughter that doesn't reach him.

Xavier ducks into the boys' restroom, turns on the tap, and splashes water on his face.

The mirror fogs slightly. He looks up—and doesn't recognize himself.

His eyes were red-rimmed, hollow.

The edges of his reflection seem to ripple, like water disturbed by wind.

"You should have been there…" a voice whispers behind the glass.

He freezes. The words sound like Theo's.

"Who's there?" he whispers. The lights flicker.

In the reflection, a shadow moves where he stands still—a figure just behind him, taller, head tilted, smiling in the dark.

"You left me," the voice breathes. "You should have been here."

Tears blur his sight. "No," he mutters, backing away. "You're not real."

The faucet turns off on its own. Silence falls—heavy, waiting. Then, a slam: the bathroom door swings open.

A classmate pokes his head in. "Yo, Xav, you okay?"

Xavier flinches, heart pounding. "Y-yeah. Just—just washing up."

He grabs his backpack and rushes past, nearly running out of the restroom.

Behind him, the mirror clears—and for a second, the shadow lingers, its mouth still moving though no sound escapes.

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