When I come to, Wichata is kneeling next to me. He has one hand against my back and the other holding the left side of my face. I look up at him. His expression is a mixture of worry and alarm.

"I didn't realize- I'm sorry. Please, forgive me. Please"

Tears fall down his face. He looks as if he is pleading for his life.

"I-I do not know who you think I am. But-but it's okay. You were only following orders."

And then I think I must have something wrong with my vision. I blink, then squint. Witcha's face has a newfound yellow hue. His face, initially pale and grey, is now reminiscent of a melting golden statue. And because I am still sitting, I can only scoot back a few inches. All around me, the color of yellow sings freely. I look for the window that was letting in the sun, but there is none to be found. But it is so yellow. So very yellow. My mind swirls, and I can't speak.

"Is this magic?"

Wichata doesn't fully understand the question. He nods. I look at my hands. They, too, perhaps even brighter, are coated in a golden light. I look back up at him. He has fascination and awe written all over his brightly flaxen face.

"Are you doing this?"

He looks at me for a second before, slightly turning his head. His eyes narrow.

"I am not the owner of the light."

He doesn't say it, but I know what he means. I look back at my hands. A slight pulsating light beams from my hands, consuming them entirely so that I can barely see the shape of them. I jolt up. I look down. The scene is terrifying. My body is no longer a slightly golden white; it is gold. My skin is gold. My screams.

"What's happening?"

It's a painful second before Wichata slowly stands up to face me. He is at least five inches shorter than me. His eyes gaze up at me. He seems to be out of breath, but not from standing up. For some reason I can't place, he looks concerned. It's as if he had thought something, and now everything was challenging that thought. His world was changing right before my eyes, and I can't understand why. His lips part as if to say something, but he doesn't. I ask the question again. And again. He can't speak—he must be in shock. He blinks slowly. A quiet, pained sound escapes his mouth. He looks away from me. Then back at me. I ask the question one more time. It comes out as a whimper.

“He was right. He has always been right. I should have believed—I should have-”

Warmth and power flow through me as I yell, “What’s happening?!”

And with his eyes growing increasingly widener, he says, “You are.”

And then he leaves—bolts. 

A few minutes later, the room is no longer gold—I am no longer gold. What I am is confused. I don't understand what's happening to me. Why had-

"Auriel!" He comes out of nowhere. Behind him is a familiar-looking guard.

"I-"

The king stands before me panicked. He steps closer to me and reaches for my face. Before I can react, his hands cup my cheeks.

"What are you doing?" I slap away his hands. The words had come out defensively, and for a second, I wince in anticipation of a blow to the head. No such impact comes. The guard is still standing a few feet away, slightly amused.

"I'm sorry, I was just concerned." He steps back, and though he doesn't show it, I wonder if the weird tone in his words is from embarrassment.

"It's fine. I'm fine." I think about how ridiculous that lie is. I think he has the same thought because he is looking at the freshly carved sun on my chest. I begin to feel ashamed, and my entire body reddens. I lift my hand over the wound. He doesn't say anything; rather, he looks away from my chest and back up at my face.

“Wichata told me what happened. I did not think it would happen this soon. I mean, surely I should have known.” It’s almost as he’s talking to himself.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” A burst of surprised laughter comes from behind the king. The king whips around and glares at the humored man.

"I am a king. The king. You cannot speak to me like that." He sounds uncomfortable.

"You are not my king." He scowls at me with anger. But something about him looks more hurt than angry.

"Captain, leave us." With that, the man behind him leaves and shuts the door behind him. He turns back to me.

"You are in Linove now. I am your king, whether you like it or not."

"You are not my king because I don't have a king. If I did, it still wouldn't be you. You think I don't know all about you? We aren't just trained in battle. We spent hours learning everything about you and your people. I've heard what awful things you've done. I've experienced- I know what you let happen in Cronad. You say you have rid of evil, but I still see you standing before me, alive. You have only fueled the devil, the serpent you worship." Shock fills his entire being. His mouth opens. His purple eyes flicker to another shade. But suddenly, wide eyes become narrowed. His mouth closes in a tight line only to open a second later.

"I called you a fawn because of the way you look, but now it will be because of how spineless- how naïve you are. Pathetic. Cowardly. Do you think what they told you was true? Do you think they fed you facts? No, they fed you lies to fuel your hatred and to make you more loyal to them. They needed a loyal army, so they made things up so that idiots like you would run through Kayonese jungles and submit to being raped for the sake of their country."

I let out a soft whimper. He realizes what he has just said.

"I-"

"You're right. I let myself be raped. I let myself be taken hostage. I let myself be carved like an art project. I let it all happen because I loved my country." I speak sarcastically, but there was truth to it. Not really, no, but in some dark way, I can't help but think that I deserved it all. The king looks horrified. Stone turns to liquid.

"I- I didn't mean it like that."

"No, you did."

"I did not."

"Whatever. Fuck. You're right." And he was. I was a coward-spineless.

He tries to say something but I cut him off.

“I am a fawn. Shit. Shit.”

Sudden sounds emerged from outside the door. Screaming. The king whipped around. Men, guards were shouting, attack, we’re under attack.